CLOSING DAYS OF THE CAMPAIGN.
Early on the morning of the 26th the Federal cavalry came within range of our camp during a dense fog. A volley scattered them and our cavalry drove them back for two miles.
Holding our position for two hours, and no further advance being made by the enemy, we resumed the march, camping at night near Lexington. A march of 12 miles on the 27th brought us to the Tennessee river, which had already been crossed by Hood with his army and wagon train. During the night, in expectation of an attack by the enemy, we were moved into a line of breastworks which had been vacated by Loring's division, but we had seen the last of our blue-coated friends for that campaign. Crossing the river on the 28th we found on its Southern bank and near the end of the pontoon bridge, 10 or 12 dead mules, and among them three or four grey specimens of that much abused animal. I had heard when a boy that a grey mule never died, that they were gifted with a sort of equine immortality. And now this dogma of my early days found its complete subversion, for these were not only dead, but as Gen. Jno. C. Brown said to us in North Carolina afterwards, when asked as to President Lincoln's death, they were "very dead." Unable to resist the force of this absolute demonstration of the fact, I have always believed since that a grey mule could die, though if further personal evidence were demanded I would be unable to produce it.
After crossing the river and without stopping to hold a post-mortem examination on these faithful animals, who robed in grey had died in the cause, we set out to rejoin our division at Corinth, Miss. Passing through Tuscumbia Bartow and Cherokee, we reached Birnsville, Miss., on the evening of Dec. 31st. Here in the waning hours of the dying year, after tramping eight hundred miles in absolute health I lay down and had an old-fashioned Burke county chill. Lying by a log-heap fire through the long watches of the winter night, my changes of base in the effort to keep the chilly side of my body next to the blazing logs were almost continuous. My old comrade Joe Warren, whose stalwart frame in company with Jim Thomas, Bill Jones and Eph Thompson graced the leading "file of fours" in this campaign was wont to say that a certain brand of whiskey had "a bad far'well." So the closing year had for the writer at least "a bad far'well." The New Year found me unable to travel. Lying over until Jan. 2d, in company with several other invalids, I secured a seat on top of a dilapidated box car. We had ridden only a mile, when the conductor fearing the concern would collapse and kill us all, kindly invited us to step down and out. Complying with some degree of reluctance I shouldered my gun and after a tramp of fifteen miles rejoined my command at Corinth, Miss., where the shattered remnant of Hood's army had gathered.
SOME INCIDENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN.
"GO OFF AND WASH YOURSELVES."
After the death of Gen. W. H. T. Walker, in July, '64, our brigade was assigned to Pat Cleburne's division. In his younger days he had served in the English army and had probably imbibed his ideas of military discipline from that service. On Sept. 26, '64, near Jonesboro, Ga., the army was reviewed by President Davis and in the afternoon of that day our regiment was ordered to appear at Cleburne's headquarters for inspection. The men had received no intimation of the order and some of the companies were not in a very cleanly condition either as to dress or arms. Soap was scarce and but little time had been spent on their toilets. The inspection proceeded without comment from Cleburne until the company commanded by Capt. Joe Polhill of Louisville, Ga., was reached. Cleburne looked over the ranks with his keen Irish eyes as Capt. Dixon inspected the arms, and then in a tone indicating some degree of disgust, said, "Attention company! Shoulder arms. Close order, march. Right face. Forward by file right—march. Go off and wash yourselves," and the regiment was ordered back to its quarters. Will Daniel, jealous of the reputation of the Oglethorpes, who had not been inspected, addressed a note to Gen. Cleburne protesting against the implied reflection on his company, to which the General replied that no reflection was intended where no inspection was made. In justice to Capt. Polhill and his company it is only proper to say that at a subsequent inspection next day they redeemed their reputation.