348 Southern Historical Society
arms and equipments, the captured troops marching up in regular Cornwallis style. The whole battalion was engaged on the Heights. But there! Stop! Soon we see a courier coming. Something is up! What's the matter? The " assembly " call is blown. March- ing orders are received and soon we are on our way to
SHARPSBURG,
where we were to meet that gentlemanly soldier, General George B. McClellan, who was again in command of the Federal army, the high-sounding, blatant Pope, who came, who saw, and who had been disastrously defeated, having been recalled, and subsequently, we believe, sent out West to win fresh laurels by amusing the Red man on the plains, and then to lapse into that beautiful obscurity, in which he was destined ever to have a prominent place.
McClellan had by some means come into possession ot General Lee's plans, possibly by capturing the courier who was sent to Gene- ral D. H. Hill when at Boonesborough. Anyhow, such was the im- pression at that time, and my diary so records it. We soon arrived at the position assigned us and engaged in a severe struggle, in which it was our misfortune to lose another of our brave boys, Charles Pemberton, whose remains we buried near the Potomac after the fight. This it has been said was a drawn battle, but of course, I am not a judge. I do know this that we returned in good order after the fight across the river, where we remained some twenty-four hours, before we started to fall back, reaching Martinsburg, the home of Belle Boyd, the famous Confederate spy. This was a strong Union city, but there were some patriotic citizens here who welcomed our troops as they passed through. From there we pushed on to Bunker Hill, a point famous in the war of the Revolutionary period, and which seems to have been a stopping place for both armies in their movements up the Valley, and there remained a short time, when we again struck out for Winchester where lived Ned Hollis and Tom Emmett, members of our battery. Emmett, poor fellow, brave as the bravest, lost his life in attestation of his loyalty to the cause he loved. We remained at Winchester several days before we took up the march, nothing occurring out of the ordinary routine of the soldier's life until we were brought up in front of Fredericksburg, where, General McClel- lan having been relieved, we were to meet General Burnside, who, having reorganized the Federal army, was to seize us by the collar and run over us to Richmond. But it had not been so decreed. The game was one at which two sides could play. So we were not sur-
