Early in 1863 Longstreet was placed in command of the Department of Virginia and North Carolina, with head-quarters at Petersburg, and with Hood’s and Pickett’s Divisions he moved to that place. An effort to capture Suffolk, on the Norfolk and Petersburg Railroad, was contemplated, and most of our command moved in that direction. I remained at Petersburg during the operations, which were unsuccessful.

It was, of course, very pleasant for me in the Cockade City, and my pay had accumulated sufficiently to permit me to provide myself with new uniforms, in the latest style and at extravagant prices.

There was considerable excitement in the city, in consequence of an order that the pleasure horses of the citizens should be impressed for the use of the artillery. To this there was a very decided objection, and every manner of device was resorted to save the pet animals. Some good people attempted to run off their horses into the country, but pickets had been stationed along the roads and the fugitives were easily captured. When the impressing officers went around to examine the horses in town, they found horses in the cellars and even in the dining-rooms. A carriage containing three ladies and drawn by a pair of fine bay horses was going down Sycamore Street when a guard ordered the driver to halt, and told the ladies that it was his unpleasant duty to impress the team. The ladies, who were young and pretty, declared that the horses should not be taken. They tried both entreaty and expostulation, but the guard was inexorable. The ladies then declared that if the horses were taken they must be taken too, and thought they had gained the victory. The guard did go away, but he quickly unhitched the traces, and took the horses with him, leaving the ladies in their carriage in all their glory. In some cases the impressment was useless, as delicate horses were taken which were of no use for service in the field.

The battle of Chancellorsville had been fought during our stay around Petersburg, and the command was then hurried back to the neighborhood of Fredericksburg. It was in May, 1863, I think, that I returned there. The Gettysburg campaign began, but before this I saw the review of the whole cavalry of the army at Brandy Station. The enemy came in upon us shortly afterwards, and, in the very beginning of the cavalry fighting, Colonel Sol. Williams, of the 1st North Carolina, was killed. He had been married to Miss Maggie Pegram, Captain Robert B. Pegram’s eldest daughter, only about two weeks before. The Adjutant of his regiment was John Pegram, Captain Pegram’s eldest son, who was killed at Petersburg in 1864.

The march from Culpepper Court House through Chester Gap, in the Blue Ridge, was very delightful to me, as the weather was fine and the scenery was beautiful. I was particularly struck with the scenery at Front Royal and Shenandoah. The Valley of Virginia then showed few signs of war.

This time we crossed the Potomac at Williamsport. It was a dreary day! The rain was falling in torrents. General Lee, General Longstreet and General Pickett were riding together, followed by their staffs. When we reached the Maryland shore we found several patriotic ladies with small feet and big umbrellas waiting to receive the Confederates who were coming a second time to deliver down-trodden Maryland. As General Lee rode out of the water, one of the ladies, with a face like a door-knocker, stepped forward and said: “This is General Lee, I presume?” General Lee gave an affirmative reply, and the lady continued: “General Lee, allow me to bid you welcome to Maryland, and allow me to present to you these ladies who were determined to give you this reception—Miss Brown, General Lee; Miss Jones, General Lee; Miss Smith, General Lee.” General Lee thanked them courteously for their attention, and introduced General Longstreet and General Pickett to Miss Brown, Miss Jones and Miss Smith. This was not the end of the affair, however, as one of the ladies had an enormous wreath which she was anxious to place on the neck of General Lee’s charger. The horse objected to it seriously, and the wreath was turned over to one of the couriers. The next morning we went into Hagerstown, where more ladies were in waiting. There were more presentations to General Lee and more introductions for Generals Longstreet and Pickett. One fair lady asked General Lee for a lock of his hair. General Lee said that he really had none to spare, and he was quite sure, besides, that they would prefer such a souvenir from one of his younger officers, and that he was confident that General Pickett would be pleased to give them one of his curls. General Pickett did not enjoy the joke, for he was known everywhere by his corkscrew ringlets, which were not particularly becoming when the rain made them lank in such weather as we then had. The ladies did not press the request. When we resumed our march more ladies came to be presented, but this time there were no petitions for a lock of Pickett’s hair.

It was some satisfaction for me to pass once more through Greencastle, where I had been bedeviled by both men and women when taken there by the cavalry who captured me the year before. Thence we went to Chambersburg, and I was amazed to find that hundreds of sturdy well-dressed citizens were still in the town. In Virginia there was hardly a white man to be found who was not in the Confederate service, excepting the sick and those who were too old or too infirm for any sort of military duty; and it gave us a realizing sense of the strength of the enemy to see that they could have so large armies in the field and leave so many lusty men in peace at home.

The army behaved superbly in Pennsylvania. The orders against straggling and looting were strict, and they were cheerfully obeyed. It was on the march in Pennsylvania that I saw General Lee, one morning, dismount from his horse and replace the rails of the fence of a wheat field which had been thrown down by some of our men. It was the best rebuke that he could have given to the offenders.

At Chambersburg I paid a visit to the jail in which I had been confined, and found a number of Yankee soldiers in the yard. Had I been so minded, I might have played upon them the malicious trick of which the Chambersburg boys made us the objects when we were there. Riding through the town, I recognized one of the citizens who had been peculiarly kind to me when I was a prisoner, and who had given me then an excellent dinner. I thought I would catechise him a little, and called out in a loud voice: “Halt, there!” He seemed rather nervous, and asked what I would have. “Do you live here?” I asked. He said that he did. “Did you live here last year?” He replied in the affirmative. “Were you here in September last, when a number of Confederate prisoners were brought in?” He said, “Yes, I was, but I did nothing against them.” Looking sternly at him I said, “Do you remember me?” He said that he did not. “Well, sir,” I continued, “I was one of those prisoners.” By this time he was badly frightened, and I hastened to relieve him by saying that my only object was to thank him for his kindness to me, and ascertain if there was anything I could do for him in return. He thanked me, but said that the town was so quiet that he needed no protection.

Late in the evening I rode out of the town, and it was dark before I came back. I was riding quite rapidly, and my horse, striking his foot against one of the stepping stones in the middle of the street, fell and threw me about ten feet over his head. As I went down I heard a woman exclaim: “Thank God, one of those wicked Rebels has broken his neck.” I was not hurt, and my horse was not much injured, so I remounted and, riding to the sidewalk, informed my unseen foe that the pleasure she anticipated was, at least, postponed.

The people generally were evidently greatly surprised at the devotion of our men to General Lee, and made some rough remarks about it. One old lady called out to an officer of ours as he strode by: “You are marching mighty proudly now, but you will come back faster than you went.” “Why so, old lady?” he asked. “Because you put your trust in General Lee and not in the Lord Almighty,” she replied.

I should mention here that the horse which I was riding was a fine black gelding, which I had bought on our way to the Valley of Virginia. A more thoroughly trustworthy animal I could not have had, and he stood fire splendidly. I had two other horses at this time, but always rode in action the black gelding I have just spoken of. I had intended to have given him some fancy name, but my boy Aleck dubbed him “Pete” the day I bought him, and by that name he went.