When everything was still;—
I dreamed I saw Susannah
Come running down the hill....
“O Susannah, don’t you weep,
Nor mourn too long for me—
I’se gwine to Alabama,
With my banjo on my knee!”
“Old Grimes is dead, that good old man,
Whom we shall see no more—”
The Sixty-fifth Virginia’s spirits flew in feathers. The Sixty-fifth was, for this period of the war and on the Southern side, a full regiment. It carried nearly five hundred muskets. It was practically half as large as it had been on the day of First Manassas. It had passed through three years of deadly war, but as a regiment it possessed skill as well as courage, and—with one exception—it had had fair luck. And then it had gathered recruits. It was a good regiment to belong to—a steady, fine regiment.