54 Norra Caroiina Troops, 1861-’65.

had fallen, and to this young officer and his brave followers
belongs the honor of turning the tide of battle, and of possibly
saving Lee’s army from direful defeat that morning. He was
my ideal of a soldier, and as I thought of him I could but re-
flect upon the honors so unworthily worn by myself, and wish
they could have been the reward of such heroism as this. One
of his men had fallen wounded within a few feet of where I
lay, and after the heavy fighting ceased, the Confederates
having re-established their position, I was, though in pain,
so much interested that I asked him who his leader was.
Well do I remember his reply, as it came in a loud, emphatic
tone, as if proud to speak it: ‘Captain Billy McLaurin, of
the Eighteenth North Carolina Regiment, one of the bravest
men in Lee’s army!’ I was fully prepared to believe what
he said.

“Tt is a strange thing to me that those who write history are
so full and profuse in their records of achievements of gen-
erals, to the exclusion of such praiseworthy deeds on the part
of subalterns and privates who bore the brunt of battle.”

The testimony of a foe on the ground is worth considering,
in giving proper credit to the troops entitled to it. There
were not more than three or four dozen of us, in this sortie,
but it gave time for Lane to get in shape and hold the position
till others could come to his assistance. When Gordon came
with Early’s division, there were Virginians in it, but they
were entitled to no more credit than the Georgians, and oth-
ers, that were necessary to help, and did help, manfully, to
hold the lines.

After the attack in the afternoon Lane was put on a line
that McGowan was taken from near a brick kiln. We were
shifted to different parts of the line till the 21st when we
had a skirmish near a church two or three miles to the right
of the court house. That night we marched to the right, and
on the morning of the 23rd bivouacked in an oak wood on a
little stream that flowed into the South Anna river. Our
canteenmen were not long in finding water and—something
besides; one of them came running back, and asked for my
‘army colt.’ I pointed to my belt, hanging on a nearby oak.
Others were noticed hurriedly leaving camp. Pop! pop!

EIGHTEENTH REGIMENT. 55

pop! bang! bang! bang! was soon heard down the slope. Not
long after an elderly gentleman rode hurriedly into camp
and was directed to headquarters. General Lane sent at
once to have each regiment searched and if any mutton
was found to send mutton and man to him under guard.
Strict search was made, but it could no where be found and
the adjutants were so reporting. When the adjutant of the
Thirty-seventh was about to make a similar report for his
regiment, Jim L stepped up the slope right near head-
quarters with a leg of mutton in his hand, in open handed
gnilt, and he was scooped in.

Jim was the first to return with a trophy of the fusillade
down the branch, and was the only man caught. The rest
who went that way were innocent lambs and saw nothing.
Jim was put te walking a circle with a billet of wood, and
the leg of mutton on his shoulder. This soon became a bur-
den and the citizen asked that he be released and allowed to
have the mutton. General Lane didn’t relent at once, and
the kind-hearted citizen at last insisted that Jim be not only
pardoned, but that the men be allowed to go down into his
clover field and get the flock.

The incident of the morning, gave opportunity for one of
the ludicrous humors of war that afternoon.

The enemy drove back the guards from Jericho ford and
Lane was sent two or three miles back to assist in stopping
them, and found a corps had crossed and had a hard fight,
losing 100 men killed and wounded.

In the midst of a sharp attack the Thirty-seventh broke,
and started for the rear, leaving the Eighteenth liable to be
cut off and the Thirty-third to be flanked. As soon as they
began leaving the other regiments of the brigade began bleat-
ing like sheep. At a short distance the Thirty-seventh rallied
and returned and fought very well afterwards. It was ludi-
crous in the extreme—fighting for all we were worth and
bleating like sheep. We were relieved about 10 o’clock
and returned to the station. Next morning we threw up
earthworks that were not needed. The enemy had with-
drawn.

When my negro boy, Jack, came to me from the rear my