'Advance, friend, and give the countersign.'
The man walked towards me, and whispered in my ear 'Barnett's Sister!' at the same time attempting to pass. Placing my bayonet close against his breast, I ordered him to 'halt!' and called for the corporal of the guard. The Dutchman—for such he was—begged and plead, but it was of no use; I told him he was trying to 'run the guard,' and he must go to the guard-house.
'Barnett's Sister! Barnett's Sister! Barnett's Sister!' shouted the Dutchman. 'I know nothing about Barnett's Sister,' said I; 'stop your noise, or you will rouse the camp.'
Just then, the officer of the guard came round. I stated the case to him, and the man was taken to the guard-house. The next morning he was released, and on inquiry at head-quarters it was found that he had the password, but had confounded 'Buena Vista' with 'Barnett's Sister.' We all enjoyed a good laugh over it, and ever after 'Barnett's Sister' was the password for all who attempted to 'run the guard.'
We lay at Phillippi nearly six weeks. Every day or two an alarm would occur, the long roll would beat, and the men would form in line of battle. It is needless to say the alarms were all false. There are always hundreds of rumors in every camp, and ours was not an exception. But after the first week we paid little attention to the many wild reports which were in circulation. Although Gov. Wise had said he would take dinner in Phillippi or in —— on the fourth of July; notwithstanding Gov. Letcher had issued a proclamation warning us to leave the State in twenty-four hours or he would hang every one of us; although a proclamation dated Staunton, Va., June 7th, 1861, stated to the people of Western Virginia that their little band of volunture (?) had been forced from Phillippi by the ruthless Northern foe, led on by traitors and tories, and that Jeff Davis and John Letcher had sent to their aid a force of cavalry, artillery and rifles; and although the proclamation wound up by saying To-morrow an ARMY will follow! we felt tolerably safe at Phillippi. We had determined, if the aforesaid army did appear, it should have a warm reception.
Every day or two scouting parties went out and captured a few stray 'Bush-Whackers,' to whom the oath was administered, and they were released. Days and weeks passed, but the army of Davis, Beauregard, and Co., failed to appear. They had, however, congregated and entrenched themselves at Laurel Hill, about thirteen miles east of Phillippi.
We were reinforced from time to time, until our force numbered some forty-five hundred men, when Gen. McClellan determined to rout the enemy from Laurel Hill and Rich Mountain. How well he succeeded, history will tell.
On the night of the 6th of July, we left Phillippi for Laurel Hill, starting at midnight. The road was rather rough, but much better than we expected to find it. When we were within about five miles of the enemy's camps; we passed a toll-gate, where an old woman came to the door to 'collect toll.' Some of our boys stopped at the house to get a drink of water, and asked the old lady how far it was to camp,—meaning the rebel camp. 'About four miles,' she said, 'but you can't get in without a pass.'
The artillery was just then passing her door; the boys pointed to that, and told her 'they thought they had a pass that would take them in.'
'Oh!' she exclaimed, as the thought struck her that we were Federals, 'you won't find it as easy work as you did at Phillippi; they're going to fight this time.'