Co. Aytch - Maury Grays, First Tennessee Regiment | Page 9

him for the cold weather; they blamed him for everything, and when he
would ride by a regiment they would take occasion, sotto voce, to abuse
him, and call him "Fool Tom Jackson," and loud enough for him to
hear. Soldiers from all commands would fall out of ranks and stop by
the road side and swear that they would not follow such a leader any
longer.
When Jackson got to Romney, and was ready to strike Banks and
Meade in a vital point, and which would have changed, perhaps, the
destiny of the war and the South, his troops refused to march any
further, and he turned, marched back to Winchester and tendered his
resignation to the authorities at Richmond. But the great leader's
resignation was not accepted. It was in store for him to do some of the
hardest fighting and greatest generalship that was done during the war.
One night at this place (Romney), I was sent forward with two other
soldiers across the wire bridge as picket. One of them was named
Schwartz and the other Pfifer--he called it Fifer, but spelled it with a
P--both full-blooded Dutchmen, and belonging to Company E, or the
German Yagers, Captain Harsh, or, as he was more generally called,
"God-for-dam."

When we had crossed the bridge and taken our station for the night, I
saw another snow storm was coming. The zig-zag lightnings began to
flare and flash, and sheet after sheet of wild flames seemed to burst
right over our heads and were hissing around us. The very elements
seemed to be one aurora borealis with continued lightning. Streak after
streak of lightning seemed to be piercing each the other, the one from
the north and the other from the south. The white clouds would roll up,
looking like huge snow balls, encircled with living fires. The earth and
hills and trees were covered with snow, and the lightnings seemed to be
playing "King, King Canico" along its crusted surface. If it thundered at
all, it seemed to be between a groaning and a rumbling sound. The trees
and hills seemed white with livid fire. I can remember that storm now
as the grandest picture that has ever made any impression on my
memory. As soon as it quit lightning, the most blinding snow storm fell
that I ever saw. It fell so thick and fast that I got hot. I felt like pulling
off my coat. I was freezing. The winds sounded like sweet music. I felt
grand, glorious, peculiar; beautiful things began to play and dance
around my head, and I supposed I must have dropped to sleep or
something, when I felt Schwartz grab me, and give me a shake, and at
the same time raised his gun and fired, and yelled out at the top of his
voice, "Here is your mule." The next instant a volley of minnie balls
was scattering the snow all around us. I tried to walk, but my pants and
boots were stiff and frozen, and the blood had ceased to circulate in my
lower limbs. But Schwartz kept on firing, and at every fire he would
yell out, "Yer is yer mool!" Pfifer could not speak English, and I reckon
he said "Here is your mule" in Dutch. About the same time we were
hailed from three Confederate officers, at full gallop right toward us,
not to shoot. And as they galloped up to us and thundered right across
the bridge, we discovered it was Stonewall Jackson and two of his staff.
At the same time the Yankee cavalry charged us, and we, too, ran back
across the bridge.
STANDING PICKET ON THE POTOMAC
Leaving Winchester, we continued up the valley.
The night before the attack on Bath or Berkly Springs, there fell the

largest snow I ever saw.
Stonewall Jackson had seventeen thousand soldiers at his command.
The Yankees were fortified at Bath. An attack was ordered, our
regiment marched upon top of a mountain overlooking the movements
of both armies in the valley below. About 4 o'clock one grand charge
and rush was made, and the Yankees were routed and skedaddled.
By some circumstance or other, Lieutenant J. Lee Bullock came in
command of the First Tennessee Regiment. But Lee was not a graduate
of West Point, you see.
The Federals had left some spiked batteries on the hill side, as we were
informed by an old citizen, and Lee, anxious to capture a battery, gave
the new and peculiar command of, "Soldiers, you are ordered to go
forward and capture a battery; just piroute up that hill; piroute, march.
Forward, men; piroute carefully." The boys "pirouted" as best they
could. It may have been a new command, and not laid down in
Hardee's or Scott's tactics; but