A few nights after this occurrence, the soldier on duty at this same post discharged his musket, which aroused the camp nearly a mile away. Such excitement was scarcely ever witnessed. The long roll sounded, officers cried out, "Fall in! Fall in! The enemy is coming!" Had this been true, there is little doubt that in the confusion and darkness of the night there would have been a stampede.

On the 10th of June we struck tents, taking up the line of march for the village of Occoquan, in the direction of the Potomac River. Our march was only about twelve miles,—hot, dry and dusty, through a country scarce of water. Many a scuffle at wells that we passed took place among the men famishing for water. Our march by the route step was rapid, much too rapid for troops unused to marching and carrying guns, accouterments, knapsacks, blankets and canteens, which, together, weighed from fifty to seventy-five pounds, and which, with our heavy, close fitting coats, made the march burdensome and cruel in the extreme; this in part because the commandant refused to halt for rest or to allow the men to get water. About sunset camp was reached, all hands broken down and exhausted. Next day we marched back, our boys in disgust, some of them quoting the King of France, who with fifty thousand men marched up the hill and then marched down again.

On the tramp to Occoquan occurred a difficulty between Lieutenant Hairston and our Lieutenant Gibson, the two high bloods squaring themselves in the road for battle, but the prompt intervention of Major J. P. Hammett of the regiment prevented the trouble, which threatened to involve not only the two officers but their respective companies, and which difficulty was the cause of the transfer of our company from the 24th to the 7th Virginia regiment.

We rested for a few days in camp in a grove of pines not far from Manassas, to which we gave the name of "Camp Tick Grove," from the fact of our being nearly eaten up by the seed-ticks that infest that region. Nothing of interest transpired while in this camp further than that the writer had a small personal difference with a great burly fellow, which but for the timely interference of a comrade might have resulted in somebody getting threshed. It was a trifling affair, soon over and forgotten. Our transfer to the 7th Virginia regiment being duly effected, we left the "camp of terror" and at Camp Wigfall formed a more perfect union with our new regiment, commanded by Colonel James L. Kemper of Madison County; of which regiment Lewis B. Williams of Orange was lieutenant-colonel, and W. T. Patton, of Culpeper, major.

This regiment was formed of ten companies, two from Madison, two from Rappahannock, one from Albemarle, one from Greene, one from Orange, one from Washington, D.C., one from Culpeper, and one from Giles—designated by letters as follows:

The adjutants who served in the 7th Virginia were:

Camp Wigfall was situate on a beautiful upland grass plot, a short distance southeast of Manassas, and not far from Bull Run. Here we spent the time rather pleasantly, engaging in daily company and battalion drill and doing picket duty on two old country roads leading in the direction of Bull Run.

Blondeau, the Frenchman, belonging to Company H, caused quite a stir and excitement one night by firing his gun at an imaginary foe, which turned out to be a cow browsing in the brush near him. The long roll was sounded, the camp aroused, the regiment put into line, but before this was accomplished the camp was in an uproar, one had lost his boots, another his trousers, another his gun, etc. On the companies reaching their positions in regimental line, ten rounds of ammunition were ordered given each man, and non-commissioned officers directed to make the distribution. It was often told of our Corporal Stone that while dealing out ammunition, on the occasion referred to, one of the men remarked to him that he was giving him more than ten caps, to which the Corporal replied in quick, sharp tone, "Oh, it's no time to count caps now!" Of course no one knowing the Corporal attributed his remark to a want of courage, for no cooler, truer, braver man belonged to the company. Such signification as it had was simply that men unused to "war's alarms," aroused from slumber at the dead of night, would, despite themselves, become excited and impatient, and especially so when they momentarily expected the enemy to pounce upon them; but no enemy came. We, however, rested on our arms the remainder of the night; and though no foe appeared, some of the men were credited with having seen some in the distance—on the hills, in the open fields, but on the coming of light they were found to be merely harmless bushes. On such occasions the imagination is naturally fertile.