attempt to break through the Gap. In this irregular battle General Bushrod Washington, the last male survivor of the Washington family, and an intimate friend of General Lee, was killed.

The enemy had fallen back to their camp across Cheat river on the Staunton pike ten miles east of the Gap, and, as it was expected that they would renew the attack, our regiment had been hurried forward to re-enforce the brigade, which now consisted of about four thousand raw recruits.

We were not soldiers except in name; four thousand boys from the country, under the command of an Indiana lawyer who, we were told, had seen some service in the Mexican War, and whom we learned to know as Brigadier General Kimball. Four thousand sons of honest tradesmen and farmers, just from comfortable homes, unaccustomed to the rigors of camp life, were thus huddled together on a desolate mountain top where the winter had already begun. We had little knowledge of military duty and no opportunity to drill except in the use of the axe, with which most of the boys had served their apprenticeship. Trees had to be cut, places cleared for tents and a hospital built for the sick. A portable sawmill was sent from Zanesville, Ohio. Logs had to be cut and carried to the mill on handspikes over the rough and rocky ground on the mountain sides. A driving snow storm began to sweep the mountain. The boys had been furnished with only one blanket each and an oil cloth "poncho" to keep them warm. The only water we could get was melted

snow. Now as I look back through the sunlight and shadow of more than fifty years all this remains in my memory as a weird dream of a former existence.

I studied as best I could to learn the duties of an officer and familiarize myself with the hardships of an enlisted man. Sometimes I went out with the pickets to see how the sergeant placed his men. Once during a snow storm I remained all night at a post near the enemy's line. We formed a shelter of brush by the side of a log. In the morning the snow was ten inches deep. When the officer of the guard came around and saw me he exclaimed, in surprise, "Why, Captain, what in the world are you doing here?" I replied that I was taking lessons in the duties of a soldier's life. I considered it for the good of the service that my men should belive implicity that I would not ask them to do anything I did not understand, nor go anywhere that I would not be willing to be with them.

CHAPTER 4.

Our First Battle.

On October 3d, General Kimball decided to attack the enemy. With that purpose in view orders were issued to the different regiments to have their companies in line fully armed, and with two day's rations, ready to march at one o'clock in the morning. This was serious business, but, at the hour named, Company "G" was in line, and as First Sergeant Guthrie, who had already committed our muster roll to memory, called the names in the dark, all answered but one private. I went to his tent and found him looking around in a dazed manner. I said, "George, what is the matter with you? Why are you not in line?" "I can't find my cartridge box," he stammered. I saw it at his feet and told him to buckle it on and get into line. He looked at me and with a trembling voice replied, "Captain, I feel that I am not prepared to die." I somewhat impatiently told him to buckle on his cartridge box, fall into line and do his duty for that was all God required of him. George obeyed, answered to his name, and before the war closed the poor boy tested my theology, for he gave his life for his country in the line of duty.

The brigade as now formed consisted of the 9th and 13th Indiana, the 25th and 32d Ohio, and marched in