Reminiscences of Lee and Gordon at Appomattox Courthouse.
By A private soldier.
Having served during the late unpleasantness only as a private, sometimes in the rear and at other times in the front rank, I have no official report to make; but there are incidents of the war which come up before me now as vivid as when they occurred fifteen and eighteen years ago.Perhaps some of these might serve to punctuate or help to emphasize the many admirable “official reports” which are now appearing in the Southern Historical Papers. These reports must in a great measure make up the correct history of our lost cause — that history in which we, the makers of it, and our children feel so lively an interest.
The leading acts of the great drama, the movements of armies, causes, effects, &c., must be obtained from those whose high official positions enabled them to take in the whole field. I purpose only to allude to small events which came under my own observation, but such events as seldom find a place — indeed, would be out of place — in official reports.
Among the first troops to leave the State of Alabama was the Third regiment, which proceeded by rail to Lynchburg, Virginia, and was there mustered in by Kirby Smith; thence to Norfolk, where we remained in camp twelve months. During that time we had leisure to meditate upon the situation, criticise field operations, visit pleasant acquaintances, and many of the boys, as the sequel proved, made serious love to the girls, for when the orders to march came there were those who vainly pleaded the Scriptural excuse of having “married a wife and could not go.” Nevertheless we marched, and there was many a tearful leave-taking — for from the cordial reception given us by the noble women of Norfolk had grown many sincere friendships, and I recall no other occasion of the war which so much resembled the home-partings as the day our regiment left the city. To many of us our sojourn there was the oasis in the social desert of the war.
Next, to Seven Pines, the Seven Days to Malvern Hill, and Mahone's “bandbox brigade” (as the veterans of Manassas jocularly taunted us) were part and parcel of the Army of Northern Virginia, under the direction of the great leader of war and his lieutenant, whose dash always won the hearts of his men.
But I will at once pass over the three years which followed — years of hard marches, “hard-tack,” short fare and short wear,
