y brother David
fired the shot. Before we knew that Jackson was out of the Valley, news
came of the battle of First Manassas, in which General Bee conferred
upon him and his brigade the soubriquet of "Stonewall," and by so doing
likened himself to "Homer, who immortalized the victory won by
Achilles."

In this battle the Rockbridge Artillery did splendid execution without
losing a man, while the infantry in their rear, and for their support,
suffered dreadfully. The College company alone (now Company I of the
Fourth Virginia Regiment) lost seven killed and many wounded.

In August it was reported that a force of Federal cavalry was near the
White Sulphur Springs, on their way to Lexington. Numbers of men from
the hills and mountains around gathered at Collierstown, a straggling
village in the western portion of the county, and I spent the greater
part of the night drilling them in the town-hall, getting news from time
to time from the pickets in the mountain-pass. The prospect of meeting
so formidable a band had doubtless kept the Federals from even
contemplating such an expedition.

The winter passed drearily along, the armies in all directions having
only mud to contend with.

Since my failure to leave with the College company it had been my
intention to join it the first opportunity; but, hearing it would be
disbanded in the spring, I enlisted in the Rockbridge Artillery attached
to the Stonewall Brigade, and with about fifty other recruits left
Lexington March 10, 1862, to join Jackson, then about thirty miles south
of Winchester. Some of us traveled on horseback, and some in farm-wagons
secured for the purpose. We did not create the sensation we had
anticipated, either on leaving Lexington or along the road; still we had
plenty of fun. I remember one of the party--a fellow with a very large
chin, as well as cheek--riding up close to a house by the roadside in
the door of which stood a woman with a number of children around her,
and, taking off his hat, said, "God bless you, madam! May you raise many
for the Southern Confederacy."

We spent Saturday afternoon and night in Staunton, and were quartered in
a hotel kept by a sour-looking old Frenchman. We were given an
abominable supper, the hash especially being a most mysterious-looking
dish. After retiring to our blankets on the floor, I heard two of the
party, who had substituted something to drink for something to eat,
discussing the situation generally, and,