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.

I became a good rider, and before I left I was one of the best in the troop. I was well mounted upon a fine horse I named "Red Robin." I exchanged this horse for one called "Flying Ant," which was considered a very vicious and dangerous animal, as she had disabled two men before I took her in charge. I simply wished to show the company that I could manage her, and I did. She was a splendid horse. On leaving the cavalry for the infantry service I sold her, including my fine cavalry saddle and equipment, to a prominent man in Quincy, Florida, for fifty-five dollars in gold, which I was to receive in a few days, but which I never did.

In January, 1863, I joined the 1st Georgia Regulars as second lieutenant of Company B. The regiment had been ordered from Virginia to Georgia to recruit its ranks. From there they were ordered to Florida near the junction of the Chattahoochee and Flint rivers, and there I joined them.

I shall not attempt to give in detail my life in this regiment—its toils and privations, marches and battles. I shall only give incidents in our campaigns that are personal, and I may often with but a line pass over long periods of time.

At the time I joined the 1st Georgia, it was commanded by Major R. A. Wayne. The colonel, and lieutenant-colonel had been disabled by wounds and illness and never rejoined the regiment. Major Wayne became colonel. He was personally one of the most fearless men I have ever known. He was a gruff man, short and peremptory in manner, in camp disliked by his officers and men, but in time of battle, especially in great danger, commanding the respect of all.

During the spring and summer of 1863 we performed picket duty along the coast near the mouth of the Appalachicola River. This was useless from a military point of view, and our ranks were more decimated by malaria than if we had been in many battles. We were under the immediate command of General Howell Cobb. I have never been able to understand why he kept us there with the daily report of sickness and death. Oh! the chills and fever—and no quinine! This medicine, so necessary in the treatment of malaria, the enemy refused to pass into our lines. Three-fourths of our men and officers were prostrated, many of them dying. It was a shameful waste of life. The memory of the sufferings in those sickly camps will remain with me always.

My brother Tomlinson was the captain in Company L in the regiment. He was a good officer, beloved of his men and respected by the officers of the command. He had been wounded twice severely, in the Virginia campaigns, on the field of Malvern Hill he was left for dead with a wound in the chest from a piece of shell, and at Second Manassas with a ball through his leg. He was carried home from our camp on the Appalachicola River so wasted with malaria, that I never expected to see him again. All in the regiment were sick with this disease that summer and I felt the effects of it through the entire winter.

Early in 1864 we were ordered to march in all haste to Quincy, and from there to entrain to Lake City. We rejoiced to leave our sickly camp. Shortly before we left we were joined by a company of men, which had been raised in Savannah as a command to operate heavy artillery. They were men over fifty and boys under eighteen years of age. They presented a most unmilitary appearance in motley civilian clothes.

A large force of Federals had landed at Jacksonville and intended to march to Tallahassee and take possession of the State of Florida. Their cavalry were marching upon Lake City and were within a few miles of the city when we arrived. Our small battalion and a company of Florida cavalry were all the troops we had to receive them. About a mile from Lake City where we expected to meet the enemy we formed a line in the pine woods. Soon they were in sight, and, on seeing our skirmishers, dismounted and proceeded to attack us. It was a foggy morning and the enemy approached within seventy-five or one hundred yards before we perceived each other. I was given command of the skirmish line. I was instructed to try to draw them near to our line. Both sides commenced firing. Soon the mists rose. The enemy, seeing our line of battle, retreated with haste. They outnumbered us two to one. We lost no men. While walking along the line of skirmishers I was aware of bullets whistling near me, one going through my cap. Then I realized that the white blanket strapped to my shoulders made a target, I pulled it off and the firing, especially at me, ceased.

After this skirmish fighting our forces were joined by Colquitt's and Harrison's brigade and we marched forward at once and met the enemy on the ever memorable battlefield of Olustee. It was not the intention of our commanding officer, General Finnegan, to fight the battle where it was fought. About a mile to the rear our line of battle had been formed with a protection on one flank of Ocean Pond and a swamp on the other. A regiment was sent forward to entice the enemy to our line of defense; they became engaged and regiment after regiment was sent forward to support them until the engagement became general, resulting in a complete victory for our forces.

The battle of Olustee was fought in the open pine woods. The victory was attributed to the courage and determination of the soldiers. There were no special tactics or generalship displayed. It was simply a continuous charge of the enemy to break our irregular lines which had been formed behind logs and trees. In this strong position our regiment of