among other things, surmising
as to the ingredients of the supper's hash, when Winn said, "Bob, I
analyzed that hash. It was made of buttermilk, dried apples, damsons and
wool!"

The following day, Sunday, was clear and beautiful. We had about seventy
miles to travel along the Valley turnpike. In passing a stately
residence, on the porch of which the family had assembled, one of our
party raised his hat in salutation. Not a member of the family took the
least notice of the civility; but a negro girl, who was sweeping off the
pavement in front, flourished her broom around her head most
enthusiastically, which raised a general shout.

We arrived at Camp Buchanan, a few miles below Mount Jackson, on Monday
afternoon. I then, for the first time since April, 1861, saw my brother
John. How tough and brown he looked! He had been transferred to the
Rockbridge Artillery shortly before the first battle of Manassas, and
with my brother David belonged to a mess of as interesting young men as
I ever knew. Some of them I have not seen for more than forty years.
Mentioning their names may serve to recall incidents connected with
them: My two brothers, both graduates of Washington College; Berkeley
Minor, a student at the University of Virginia, a perfect bookworm;
Alex. Boteler, student of the University of Virginia, son of Hon. Alex.
Boteler, of West Virginia, and his two cousins, Henry and Charles
Boteler, of Shepherdstown, West Virginia; Thompson and Magruder Maury,
both clergymen after the war; Joe Shaner, of Lexington, Virginia, as
kind a friend as I ever had, and who carried my blanket for me on his
off-horse at least one thousand miles; John M. Gregory, of Charles City
County, an A. M. of the University of Virginia. How distinctly I recall
his large, well-developed head, fair skin and clear blue eyes; and his
voice is as familiar to me as if I had heard it yesterday. Then the
brothers, Walter and Joe Packard, of the neighborhood of Alexandria,
Virginia, sons of the Rev. Dr. Packard, of the Theological Seminary, and
both graduates of colleges; Frank Preston, of Lexington, graduate of
Washington College, who died soon after the war while professor of Greek
at William and Mary College, a whole-souled and most companionable
fellow; William Bolling, of Fauquier County, student of University of
Virginia; Frank Singleton, of Kentucky, student of University of
Virginia, whom William Williamson, another member of the mess and a
gradu