shot
at privates. It was they that did the shooting and killing, and if I
could kill or wound a private, why, my chances were so much the better.
I always looked upon officers as harmless personages. Colonel Field,
I suppose, was about the only Colonel of the war that did as much
shooting as the private soldier. If I shot at an officer, it was at long
range, but when we got down to close quarters I always tried to kill
those that were trying to kill me.

SEWELL MOUNTAIN

From Cheat Mountain we went by forced marches day and night, over hill
and everlasting mountains, and through lovely and smiling valleys,
sometimes the country rich and productive, sometimes rough and broken,
through towns and villages, the names of which I have forgotten, crossing
streams and rivers, but continuing our never ceasing, unending march,
passing through the Kanawha Valley and by the salt-works, and nearly back
to the Ohio river, when we at last reached Sewell Mountain. Here we
found General John B. Floyd strongly entrenched and fortified and facing
the advance of the Federal army. Two days before our arrival he had
charged and captured one line of the enemy's works. I know nothing of
the battle. See the histories for that. I only write from memory,
and that was twenty years ago, but I remember reading in the newspapers
at that time of some distinguished man, whether he was captain, colonel
or general, I have forgotten, but I know the papers said "he sought the
bauble, reputation, at the cannon's mouth, and went to glory from the
death-bed of fame." I remember it sounded gloriously in print. Now,
reader, this is all I know of this grand battle. I only recollect what
the newspapers said about it, and you know that a newspaper always tells
the truth. I also know that beef livers sold for one dollar apiece in
gold; and here is where we were first paid off in Confederate money.
Remaining here a few days, we commenced our march again.

Sewell Mountain, Harrisonburg, Lewisburg, Kanawha Salt-works, first four,
forward and back, seemed to be the programme of that day. Rosecrans,
that wiley old fox, kept Lee and Jackson both busy trying to catch him,
but Rosey would not be caught. March, march, march; tramp, tramp, tramp,
back through the valley to Huntersville and Warm Springs, and up through
the most beautiful valley--the Shenandoah--in the world, passing towns
and elegant farms and beautiful residences, rich pastures and abundant