half a mile, turning to the left at same point we did on 30th May, and continuing our course nearly a mile under a hot, broiling sun, when coming up with Early's division, under Ramseur, and Gordon's division, we halted a few hours. At two o'clock P. M. we resumed our march towards the right flank of the enemy, going one mile, and then halted until dark. Skirmishing was brisk and cannonading rapid in our front. We expected to be engaged at any moment, but something prevented, and we returned to a pine woods on the Mechanicsville turnpike and remained during the night. A good many straggling Yankees were captured, who reported the enemy moving to their left flank, and say their men are destitute of shoes, deficient in rations, and very tired of fighting, etc. They also report Burnside's negroes at the front. The enemy, unwilling to expose their own persons, not only invoke the aid of Ireland, Germany, and the rest of Europe, but force our poor deluded, ignorant slaves into their ranks. They will prove nothing but "food for our bullets." * * *
June 7th—We remained in camp until evening, when we moved to a more pleasant locality. The enemy have disappeared from our left and left-centre, and gone towards our right, and Early's (lately Ewell's) command enjoys a respite from the heavy and exhausting duties of the past month.
June 8th—Sergeant Aug. P. Reid, of my company ("F," Twelfth Alabama), was this morning appointed acting Second Lieutenant by Colonel Pickens, and assigned to command of Company "D." This was a neat compliment to Gus, and to my intelligent company. The day was again marked by an unusual quiet; cannon and musketry were seldom heard. I seized a moment to write a letter expressing sympathy to Mrs. Hendree, of Tuskegee, at the untimely death of her excellent and gallant son, Edward, who was killed May 5th at the Wilderness while commanding sharpshooters. The first twelve months of the war we were messmates and intimate friends. He was afterwards made First-Lieutenant in Sixty-first Alabama regiment. He was the only son of a widowed mother, and of exceeding great promise.
June 9th—Remained in our bivouac until near six o'clock, when we were ordered to "pack up" and "fall in." Rev. Dr. William Brown, of Richmond, preached to us at four o'clock. Shortly after his sermon concluded, we marched about two miles towards the right of our line, and halted in an old field, near an old Yankee camp, occupied by some of McClellan's troops before his memora-
