class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 25]"/> Davis, of Company G, Fifty-sixth, who said: “Fifty-sixth is just ordered back to rest. A part of the companies on the right of the battery (at Crater) are still here. The Yankees had opened such a heavy fire they would not try to get out. There is going to be an interesting time here, and I want to see it out. If you will stay with me I will take care of you.” Six or seven of his company were with him. Soon Sergt. Wm. London and Isaac Randall of Company F joined us. Peter Price, who had been shot through the lung at Plymouth, was wounded in the thigh as they fell back, and Mayor Graham was wounded in the arm. We were now about one hundred and fifty yards to the left of the Crater battery. At about 1 p. m. three lines of battle made a desperate effort to break our lines on the right. We could see them form an advance like they were on dress parade, raise their cheer and rush close to our line; then our volleys would knock them into confusion. In the meantime they were bringing line after line down to the branch in our front, where they could find cover under the hill. We would let them get about midway in a field, then we could get about two rounds into them before they got under cover. Soon they began to charge us from this close quarter, but two or three rounds would drive them back under cover shelter. Finally they crawled up the side of a hill and massed seven flags within two hundred yards of us, and lay there until night. The heavy firing of musketry and artillery lasted until midnight before we could get out. Captain Roberts, of Company B, Fifty-sixth, had his head shot off. One tall, dark-eyed South Carolinian was shot in the head and killed by my side. He was a brave man, taking deliberate aim every shot. One other man was wounded close to me.

A. P. Hill’s corps got to Petersburg at night of 18th. Next morning Jesse Lattimore, of Company F, Thirty-fourth N. C. Regiment, visited us, and was still in good spirits of whipping the Yankees. We told him they hadn’t brought men enough with them and their regiments were too small. After resting twenty-four hours we moved right and worked on some fortifications.

On the evening of 24th of June, Wilcox’s Division attacked Grant’s left, supported by our brigade and a part of Johnson’s division. It was called the battle of Huckleberry Swamp. The enemy was strongly entrenched, and we fell back after dark. We were only slightly under fire. We recalled that Lafayette Beam, of Capt. David Magness’ company, Thirty-eighth Regiment, was killed that evening. We occupied Scales Brigade camp, and about midnight they came in on us and we all lay and slept until late next morning.

The next night we took position on the branch to the left of the Crater. We had always felt pretty safe in the earthworks until here Grant began to shell us with mortars, throwing huge shells up to fall on us or to burst over us and the fragments rain upon us; so now began the most serious time when we could not get rest day nor night except under incessant fire. The left of our brigade rested on the Norfolk railroad, and we held this position in the open fields under a July sun for six weeks, the regiments changing position every week. Our food was miserable—musty meal and rancid Nassau bacon. Our bread was cooked at the wagon yard on canal, west side of Petersburg. When the bread had been cooked twelve hours it would pull out like spider-webs. We were on picket or fatigue duty nearly every night. One-third had to stand to arms all the time, and from 2:30 a. m. all had to stand to arms until sunrise. The two lines were on an average five hundred yards apart.

On the 11th of July, while working on a covered way to the rear, I was wounded in the left arm above the elbow, the ball grazing and bruising the inside of the arm. I was disabled and sent back to field hospital for a few days, during which time I caught measles. Then after a week in the trenches I was sent back to the hospital at Richmond. The men were now breaking down faster under the awful strain and bad fare; many were taking typhoid fever, and nearly all had dysentery. A train load of sick and wounded were being shipped to Richmond every day.

I left on the 28th of July. It was known that the Yankees were undermining our works, and we were tunneling all around to meet them, but our tunnel at the Crater missed them about fifty feet. On the 30th the Crater was exploded under Elliott’s South Carolina Brigade, formerly Walker’s, on our right. I shall not attempt a description of that memorable event farther than to say Ransom’s Brigade, commanded by Colonel Rutledge of Twenty-fifth, held its position and helped to retake the lost ground, though none of our historians seem to be advised of that fact. Up to this time, Lieutenant Grigg, Perry Ross, Arthur Blanton and Alexander Kennedy had been wounded, and soon after Starlin Jones was mortally wounded. When I convalesced I found John Carter and Dobbins Wesson in the same ward with typhoid fever, and I went to see them every day. One evening when I called, Carter said he was glad to see me, that he wanted to talk with me, for he was going to die. I tried to encourage him, but he said he could not live long. He said he was not afraid to die, that he had always tried to live right, and that it was a great consolation that he had never done anything that would reflect on his people left behind. Thus, before the rising of another sun, a good and true man passed to his reward. A few days after when I visited Wesson he told me that he was in great trouble, that his wife had quit writing to him, etc. I tried to encourage him, when the ward master beckoned to me and said, “You need not pay any attention to him. He is delirious and don’t know what he is talking about. He jumped out of the window and we had to catch him and bring him back. If you know his people you can write them that he will not live until to-morrow morning.” I wrote them to that effect. He was a brave and faithful soldier and loved by his comrades.

Of the twenty-five of Company F that died that summer of sickness, I will mention four of my mess, who were all good and true soldiers and participated in all the battles up to squat. Thomas Davis, Riley Barnett, John Ledford and Thomas L. Nowlin. While I was away, Ransom’s Brigade was in the battle of Ream’s Station on Weldon railroad, in August, and Louis Justice and Migamon Haynes were killed. Sergt. F. M. Stockton, Luther Lutz and William Chitwood, and probably others, were wounded.

I got back to the company the 15th of October, after a sixty-days furlough, and found our brigade resting left of Appomattox River. Here we remained through the long, hard winter, under fire day and night. During this time Lieutenant Purse was wounded, also Wesley Richards and Sergeant William London mortally wounded. I can not see how we escaped so well, but we learned to lay low, dig holes and contrive bomb-proofs. Then Spencer Crowder used to say that we had Uncle Johnnie London to pray for us. Spencer tried to quit swearing, and we thought he had succeeded, but the last battle we were in he cursed the Yankees as bad as ever. We fortified our position and had portholes for our sharpshooters made of sand bangs and iron plates. Besides the hard fare, we suffered for want of fuel. Our company only got eight or ten sticks of green pine wood per day most of the time. During the winter we got coffee and some canned beef, which helped us greatly. Governor Vance tried to give us a Christmas dinner, but it was only a quart of little Irish potatoes. Our wages were raised from $11 to $15 per month, but they quit paying us at all and owed us for three or four months at the close. The following prices prevailed: Bacon, $10 lb.; pork and beef, $5 lb.; peas, $1 qt.; corn meal, $1.25 qt.; rice, $1 lb.; salt, $1; sweet potatoes, medium, $1 each,