About the middle of June we were transported by rail in cattle and box-cars to Richmond, Virginia. There the regiment was drawn up in line of battle and we had our first dress parade. Our regiment was soon ordered to Strasburg, Virginia; there we disembarked from the train and commenced our march down the beautiful Shenandoah Valley to Winchester. Large wagon trains were in attendance to transport our tents and camp equipage. How great a change gradually came over our transportation department! From several wagons to a company, we were reduced eventually to one to the regiment, known as the skillet wagon, as the men kept their cooking utensils in it.
Our regiment was armed with an ordinary smooth-bore musket which shot a cartridge loaded with a ball and three buckshot. By actual trial our guns with such a cartridge were only effective a short distance, and would not bear the ball and shot at direct range more than eighty yards. Our cartridges were gradually changed to one with a single ball. Each soldier carried a belt of leather around his waist to which was attached a cartridge box containing forty rounds of cartridges and a cap box with about fifty percussion caps. This musket was used up to the end of the war, although a large part of the army gradually changed for Enfield rifles, a better gun with a range two or three times as far as a muzzle loader. The Federals had an immense advantage with their superior breech-loading Spencer rifles, which carried three times as far as our rifles, and shot ten times to our one. Toward the end of the war this was equivalent to doubling the Federal force.
During our first marches our knapsacks and all camp equipment were hauled in wagons. But soon we were required to carry our knapsacks; but we eventually threw them away, and carried our clothing in a roll. The shoes I wore were splendid,—made by a shoemaker at home, and my socks had been knitted by my mother.
At Winchester we were attached to Gen. Francis S. Bartow's brigade. The army was in command of Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, who rode down our line, and I had my first sight of our commanding general. After remaining in camp at Winchester, we were ordered to march farther down the valley toward Martinsburg. Near there we were drawn up in line of battle expecting an attack. While waiting we were suddenly ordered across the valley toward Manassas Junction. We marched all night; when the sun rose not more than one-fifth of the men had reached our destination. I was among the foremost. In this connection I wish to state that I had an extraordinary endurance on long fatiguing marches. I never met a man in the army whom I thought my superior in endurance.
Our brigade waited by the railroad expecting to be transported to Bull Run. But as transportation was very limited the 9th Georgia was left behind. We could hear the roar of battle, and early next day we were upon the historic field of Bull Run, generally known as the First Battle of Manassas. We marched over the battlefield only to see the dead and wounded Federals. I saw the first dead I had ever seen. It made an impression of horror upon me that I remember to this day.
I recollect a day or two after the battle I came upon a horse, wounded in the shoulder, standing in the shade of a tree. The wound was such that he had no power to twitch or move the muscle of his shoulder to frighten the great number of horse flies which were sucking his blood. I was struck with the wise provision of nature that gives the horse the power of shaking off insects by a twitch of the skin.
General P. G. T. Beauregard, who commanded the Confederate forces, rode down our line. We gave him a cheer, and I remember crying out, "Let us go forward." My impression was the right one. If our victory had been followed up, we could easily have captured Washington, and the outcome of the war would have been very different. But we waited and gave the aroused North full time to recover from their defeat, and place large armies in the field.
While on picket duty on the hills in sight of Washington, our regiment was under fire for the first time. I remember on one occasion I had been standing with my hand upon a plank—I moved away. A second afterwards a bullet struck the plank.
We remained several months inactive in camp, losing valuable time. Camped near us was the 28th Georgia in which was my brother George as a surgeon. We were also within a few miles of the 1st Georgia Regulars, a splendid body of men, in which my brother Tomlinson was a first lieutenant. So I had the pleasure of being near and seeing my two brothers.
During the winter of 1861-1862 the hardships of camp life, caused more than anything else by bad food and water, enfeebled my health. While lifting a heavy log I sprained my back, and was ordered to a hospital in Richmond. In Richmond I met my brother George, so did not go to a hospital, but stayed with my brother, who, on account of his poor health, was forced to leave the army. The surgeon who examined me thought I was permanently disabled, so I obtained my discharge from the ranks and went home with Brother George. At home, in a few months, I partially recovered my health and insisted on again entering the army. My mother would not consent to my entering the infantry, therefore I bought me a good horse and proposed to ride down to the seacoast where I would consider the matter, as I was at that time exempt from service. But I went to Bainbridge instead, intending, with a Mr. Campbell, to organize an artillery company. But while there I met some college friends who had enlisted in a cavalry company for the coast defense. I joined them as a private and did some hard riding for three months along the Florida coast. We were stationed at Newport, which is near the mouth of the St. Mark's River in northwest Florida. This company was a finely appointed body of men. They furnished their own horses and were splendidly mounted. They were all young men of position and education. There seemed to be no distinction between the officers and men. I do not think there was a mess in the company that did not have several servants to cook and wait upon its members.