a few stray
'Bush-Whackers,' to whom the oath was administered, and they were
released. Days and weeks passed, but the army of Davis, Beauregard, and
Co., failed to appear. They had, however, congregated and entrenched
themselves at Laurel Hill, about thirteen miles east of Phillippi.

We were reinforced from time to time, until our force numbered some
forty-five hundred men, when Gen. McClellan determined to rout the enemy
from Laurel Hill and Rich Mountain. How well he succeeded, history will
tell.

On the night of the 6th of July, we left Phillippi for Laurel Hill,
starting at midnight. The road was rather rough, but much better than we
expected to find it. When we were within about five miles of the enemy's
camps; we passed a toll-gate, where an old woman came to the door to
'collect toll.' Some of our boys stopped at the house to get a drink of
water, and asked the old lady how far it was to camp,--meaning the rebel
camp. 'About four miles,' she said, 'but you can't get in without a
pass.'

The artillery was just then passing her door; the boys pointed to that,
and told her 'they thought they had a pass that would take them in.'

'Oh!' she exclaimed, as the thought struck her that we were Federals,
'you won't find it as easy work as you did at Phillippi; they're going
to fight this time.'

On our return home this same woman was at the door, but she didn't
demand _toll_ this time. 'Well, old lady,' said one of our fellows,
'what do you think _now_ about the fighting qualities of your men?'

'They who fight and run away,
Will live to fight another day,'

she exclaimed, and, slamming the door, vanished from sight, I trust
forever.

At daylight we drove in the rebel pickets at Laurel Hill. We were within
a mile and a half of their main camp, and halted there to await orders
from Gen. McClellan, before beginning the attack. He was advancing on
the enemy at Rich Mountain and Beverley.

We threw a few shells into the rebel camp, producing great consternation
among their men and horses. For four days we kept up skirmishing, but on
the fifth day it rained, and little was done. All were anxious to
commence the attack, but, as we had heard nothing from Gen. McClellan,
all had to 'wait for orders.' That night the enemy, hearing of the
Federal victory at Rich Mountain, and the occupation of Beverley by
McClellan, and evidently thinking himself in a 'bad fix,' retreated from
Laurel Hill toward St. George. In the