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Title: The Story of a Confederate boy in the Civil War
Author: Johnston, David E.
Language: English
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The Story of a Confederate Boy in the Civil War
By
David E. Johnston
_of the 7th Virginia Infantry Regiment_
Author of "Middle New River Settlements"
With Introduction by
Rev. C. E. Cline, D.D.
A Methodist Minister and Chaplain of the
Military Order of the Loyal Legion, U.S.A.
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY
DAVID E. JOHNSTON
PUBLISHED BY
GLASS & PRUDHOMME COMPANY
PORTLAND, OREGON
Preface
Some twenty-eight years ago I wrote and published a small book
recounting my personal experiences in the Civil War, but this book is
long out of print, and the publication exhausted. At the urgent request
of some of my old comrades who still survive, and of friends and my own
family, I have undertaken the task of rewriting and publishing this
story.
As stated in the preface to the former volume, the principal object of
this work is to record, largely from memory, and after the lapse of
many years (now nearly half a century) since the termination of the
war between the states of the Federal Union, the history, conduct,
character and deeds of the men who composed Company D, Seventh regiment
of Virginia infantry, and the part they bore in that memorable
conflict.
The chief motive which inspires this undertaking is to give some meager
idea of the Confederate soldier in the ranks, and of his individual
deeds of heroism, particularly of that patriotic, self-sacrificing,
brave company of men with whose fortunes and destiny my own were linked
for four long years of blood and carnage, and to whom during that
period I was bound by ties stronger than hooks of steel; whose
confidence and friendship I fully shared, and as fully reciprocated.
To the surviving members of that company, to the widows and children,
broken-hearted mothers, and to gray-haired, disconsolate fathers (if
such still live) of those who fell amidst the battle and beneath its
thunders, or perished from wounds or disease, this work is dedicated.
The character of the men who composed that company, and their deeds of
valor and heroism, will ever live, and in the hearts of our people will
be enshrined the names of the gallant dead as well as of the living, as
the champions of constitutional liberty. They will be held in grateful
remembrance by their own countrymen, appreciated and recognized by all
people of all lands, who admire brave deeds, true courage, and devotion
of American soldiers to cause and country.
For some of the dates and material I am indebted to comrades. I also
found considerable information from letters written by myself during
the war to a friend, not in the army, and not subject to military duty,
on account of sex; who, as I write, sits by me, having now (February,
1914), for a period of more than forty-six years been the sharer of my
joys, burdens and sorrows; whose only brother, George Daniel Pearis, a
boy of seventeen years, and a member of Bryan's Virginia battery, fell
mortally wounded in the battle of Cloyd's Farm, May 9, 1864.
DAVID E. JOHNSTON.
Portland, Oregon, May, 1914.
Introduction
The author of this book is my neighbor. He was a Confederate, and I a
Union soldier. Virginia born, he worked hard in youth. A country
lawyer, a member of the Senate of West Virginia, Representative in
Congress, and Circuit Judge, his life has been one of activity and
achievement. Blessed with a face and manner which disarm suspicion,
inspire confidence and good will, he makes new friends, and retains old
ones.
Judge Johnston (having through life practiced the virtues of a good
Baptist), is, therefore, morally sound to the core. He has succeeded,
not by luck or chance, but because of what he is. Withal, he has
cultivated the faculty for hard work; in fact, through life he has
liked nothing so well as hard work.
A vast good nature, running easily into jocular talk, with interesting
stories, in which he excels, he is able to meet every kind of man in
every rank of society, catching with unerring instinct the temper of
every individual and company where he is.
He is thoroughly American, and though having traveled extensively in
Europe and the East, he is not spoiled with aping foreigners, nor
"rattled" by their frivolous accomplishments. He is likewise an
experienced writer, being the author of the history of "Middle New
River Settlements, and Contiguous Territory," in Virginia and West
Virginia, a work of great value, which cost the author years of
persistent research.
This volume, "The Story of a Confederate Boy," is written from the
heart, with all his might, and all his honesty, and is characterized
throughout by fertility, sympathy, and magnanimity, in recording his
own personal experiences, and what he saw.
C. E. CLINE.
Portland, Oregon.
Contents
Chapter. Page.
I. Pre-election Statement as to Mr. Lincoln.--The
Presidential Election in November, 1860.--Fear and
Anxiety.--At School with Rev. J. W. Bennett in Winter
1860 and Spring 1861.--Debating Society.--Some
Recollections of Colonel Chambers and Others.--Strong
State Rights Ideas.--Desire to Become a Soldier.--The
Anticipation and the Reality.--Return Home.--War Talk
and Feeling 1
II. Giles County, Its Formation and Early Settlers.--Its
Geographical Position, Topography and Population in
1860.--State of Political Parties.--Election of
Delegate to the Convention 9
III. What Will Not Be Attempted Herein.--How the Southern
People Viewed the Situation.--Virginia as a Peacemaker.
--The Peace Conference and Its Failure.--Geographical,
Territorial Position.--Assembling of the Convention
and Its Action.--Mr. Lincoln's Attitude and Call for
Troops.--Adoption of the Ordinance of Secession.--
Preparations for Defense 15
IV. Organization of Volunteer Forces.--Giles Not Behind
Her Sister Counties.--A Company Organized at
Pearisburg with James H. French as Captain; Eustace
Gibson, First Lieutenant; William A. Anderson, Second
Lieutenant; Joel Blackard, Second Junior Lieutenant,
and Captains James D. Johnston and R. F. Watts on
the Committee to Purchase Uniforms, etc.--The Ladies
of the Town and Country.--In Barracks and on Drill.
--Anecdote.--Dixie.--Our March to Wolf Creek.--
Presentation of Bible and Flag 25
V. The Election for the Ratification of the Ordinance
of Secession Was Held on the Fourth Thursday of May
--the 23rd. On that Day Members of the House of
Delegates, and Perhaps Other Officers, Were to Be
Elected.--Our Departure.--Lynchburg and to Manassas
Junction 39
VI. Stay at the Junction.--Organization of 24th
Regiment as Afterwards Completed.--March to Camp
Davis Ford.--First Night on Picket.--Alarm.--
March to the Town of Occoquan and Back Again.--
A War of Words.--Serious Fight Imminent.--Leaving
the 24th Regiment.--Camp Tick Grove and a Personal
Difference.--A More Perfect Union.--Camp Wigfall.
--Blondeau's Shot.--How We Cooked, Ate and Slept.
--Shannon's Bob.--Rumors Afloat of Pending Battle.
--Three Days' Rations Cooked 47
VII. Breaking Camp at Wigfall.--The March to the
Battlefield.--General Beauregard and His Appearance
and Advice.--First Cannon Shot.--Battle of Bull Run.
--The Advance.--The Charge.--The Wounded.--Isaac
Hare and John Q. Martin.--Retreat of the Enemy.--
Severe Artillery Duel.--The Dutchman and His Chunk
of Fat Bacon.--Casualties 61
VIII. Night's Experience on Our First Battlefield.--The
Dead and Cries of the Wounded.--Occurrences on the
Field.--Sunday, July 21.--Shelled by the Enemy.--
March to the Field by the Sound of Battle.--The
Battle.--Casualties.--The Pursuit.--To the Outposts.
--Incidents.--Winter at Centerville 69
IX. Our Daily Duties.--In Camp.--Among the Last
Rencounters.--Lieutenant Gibson, Corporal Stone
and Others Hold a Council of War and Determine
to Advance and Drive McClellan from Arlington
Heights.--March to the Outposts.--Graybacks.--
Religious Exercises.--Incidents of Camp.--
Depletion of the Army.--Re-enlistments and
Furloughs.--Retreat from Manassas Behind the
Rappahannock.--Albert and Snidow.--Gordonsville 83
X. The Stay Near Gordonsville.--The March to
Richmond and Journey to Yorktown.--In the
Trenches.--Skirmishing and Night Alarms.--
Reorganization.--The Retreat from Yorktown.
--The Old Lady's Prayer.--Battle of Williamsburg.
--The Killed and Wounded.--Forces and Numbers
Engaged and Losses.--Retreat Up the Peninsula.
--Battle of Seven Pines.--Casualties 93
XI. Preparations for Active Field Service.--Dress
Parade and Speeches of General Kemper and Colonel
Patton.--Battles Around Richmond.--Gaines' Mill
or Cold Harbor.--Frazier's Farm and Malvern Hill.
--Testing a Man's Courage.--Casualties.--In Pursuit
of the Enemy.--In Camp Near the Chickahominy.--
Sickness and Death.--Threatening Attitude of the
Enemy in Northern Virginia.--Concentration of
the Confederate Army on the Rappahannock.--Pope's
Bravado.--Lieutenant Hugh M. Patton Succeeds
Stark as Adjutant, and Sergeant Parke Appointed
Sergeant-Major, Succeeding George S. Tansill 107
XII. General Jackson With His "Foot Cavalry."--On
the Flank and in the Rear of General Pope's
Army.--Longstreet's Division Diverting the
Enemy's Attention on the Rappahannock.--March
Through Thoroughfare Gap.--Haymarket to the
Relief of Jackson's Men.--The Fight on the
29th.--Battle of August 30, 1862.--Kemper
Commands Division, Corse Leads the Brigade.--
Pope Defeated.--Casualties.--Rainstorm and
March Through Leesburg to White's Ford.--
Crossing the Potomac.--The Cry "Back to
Washington" and not "On to Richmond."--
"Maryland, My Maryland," "Bonnie Blue Flag."
--Halt at Monocacy Bridge 123
XIII. A Soldier's Equipment.--Washing His Clothes.--How
He Ate and Slept.--March Through Frederick.--
Middletown.--Hagerstown.--A Soldier in Active
Service in the Field.--What He Possesses.--
Indications of Southern Sympathy.--The Return
from Hagerstown.--Battle of Boonsboro and
Casualties.--Retreat to Sharpsburg 135
XIV. Number of Men for Action in Kemper's Brigade.
--General D. R. Jones' Division.--Confederate
Cavalry.--General Lee Playing Bluff with McClellan.
--The Opening of the Battle.--Burnside's Attack
and Repulse.--Casualties.--Re-crossing the
Potomac 145
XV. From Winchester to Culpeper.--Reorganization
of the Army.--What Happened at Culpeper.--To
Fredericksburg and Battle There.--In Winter
Quarters.--Incidents of the Camp 163
XVI. Leaving Camp.--March Through Spottsylvania.--
Louisa.--Hanover, Petersburg.--First North
Carolina Campaign.--Heavy Snowfall and Battle.
--Accident to Anderson Meadows Near Chester.
--Camp Near Petersburg.--Gardner Exchanges
Hats.--Lieutenant Stone in a Box.--To Weldon,
Goldsboro and Kinston.--At Suffolk, Virginia;
Return via Petersburg, Chester, Richmond, to
Taylorsville.--John, the Drummer Boy.--Professor
Hughes, Frank Burrows, and Others.--Across the
Pamunkey, Return and to Culpeper 177
XVII. Pennsylvania Campaign of July, 1863.--Culpeper
and Snicker's Gap.--Fording the Potomac.--
Shooting a Deserter.--Pennsylvania Invaded.--
Chambersburg.--My Dream.--Willoughby Run.--Roll
Call 191
XVIII. Finishing Roll Call.--March to the Field.--
Inspection of Arms.--Fearful Artillery Duel.
--The Charge.--Killed and Wounded.--Army
Retires.--Crosses the Potomac 199
XIX. Sketches and Incidents While a Wounded Prisoner.
--How Long in the Field Hospital.--The Walk to
Gettysburg and Kindness Shown Me By a Federal
Captain.--In Box Cars and Ride to Baltimore.
--What Occurred in Baltimore.--To Chester,
Pa.--Dr. Schafer and Another.--Paroled and
Back to Dixie 221
XX. Return to My Command.--Long Stay at Taylorsville
in November and December, 1863, and Part of
January, 1864.--Dr. Blackwell's Address.--Our
Second North Carolina Campaign.--General and
Mrs. Pickett and Baby George.--Back in Virginia.
--The Advance to Newbern.--Capture and Execution
of Deserters.--In Camp at Goldsboro.--Shooting
a Confederate Deserter.--The Shoemaker's Letter.
--Wilmington and Mouth of Cape Fear.--Return and
to Tarboro.--The Capture of Plymouth, N.C.--To
Washington and Newbern.--Return to Virginia 231
XXI. Battle of Dreury's Bluff.--The Forces Engaged.
--Casualties.--The Pursuit of General Butler's
Troops.--Bombardment at Howlett's House.--The
Wounding of Lieutenant John W. Mullins.--His
Death.--Withdrawal from Howlett's House 247
XXII. To Richmond.--Captured Flags.--Affair at
Milford.--Tom Yowell's Yarn.--Hanover Junction.
--North Anna.--Cold Harbor.--John A. Hale and
His Prisoner.--Malvern Hill 259
XXIII. From Malvern Hill to the South of the James.
--Engagement at Clay's House.--Bermuda Hundred
Line.--Christmas Dinner.--Our Southern Women.
--Close of 1864 267
XXIV. Religion in the Army.--Doctors Pryor, Fontaine
Stiles.--General Pendleton.--Young Men's Christian
Association.--Frazier, our Preaching-Fighting
Chaplain 285
XXV. From January, 1865, to Close of Battle of Five
Forks--Gloomy Outlook at the Opening of the Year.
--The Peace Commissioners.--Spirit of the Army.
--A. L. Fry as Regimental Clerk and Historian.
--Trouble in Company D.--Activity Within the
Federal Lines.--General Pendleton's Speech.--
Early's Small Force Defeated at Waynesboro.--
Sheridan's Raid 297
XXVI. South of the James.--Battles of Dinwiddie and
Five Forks 307
XXVII. The Retreat.--Battle of Sailor's Creek.--Captured 321
XXVIII. To Prison at Point Lookout, Maryland.--Prison
Life.--Release.--Home 335
XXIX. The Conclusion.--War Ends.--The Return to Civil
Pursuits.--The Confederate Soldier 349
Portraits
Page
David E. Johnston, 16 years old, in Confederate uniform
and off for the war Frontispiece
Captain James H. French 32
Lieutenant Eustace Gibson 64
Captain Robert H. Bane 80
Lieutenant Elisha M. Stone 112
Lieutenant John W. Mullins 144
Corporal Jesse B. Young 208
Lieutenant Thomas S. Taylor 240
Rev. J. Tyler Frazier 272
David E. Johnston, Brigadier-General, Confederate Veterans,
and David E. J. Wilson, Captain and Aide-de-Camp 304
Chapter I
Pre-election Statement as to Mr. Lincoln.
The Presidential Election in November, 1860.
Fear and Anxiety.
At School with Rev. J. W. Bennett, in Winter 1860 and Spring 1861.
Debating Society.
Some Recollections of Colonel Chambers and Others.
Strong State Rights Ideas.
Desire to Become a Soldier.
The Anticipation and the Reality.
Return Home.
War Talk and Feeling.
As a boy, but little more than fifteen years of age, I heard and
learned much of the pre-election news, as well as read newspapers,
by which I was impressed with the thought that Mr. Lincoln was a
very homely, ugly man, was not at all prepossessing, some of the
newspapers caricaturing him as the "Illinois Ape," "Vulgar Joker
of Small Caliber," and much other of the same kind of silly rubbish
was said and published. Some of the negroes inquired if he was
sure enough a black man. They had heard him spoken of as a "Black
Republican."
At the election in November, 1860, Mr. Lincoln, the Abolition-Republican
candidate, was chosen President, which caused great anxiety and alarm
throughout the Southern states--in fact, in other parts of the country.
This fear was intensified later by Mr. Lincoln's utterances in his
inaugural address, of which more will be said in later chapter.
Late in the Fall of 1860, and in the early Spring of 1861, I was at
school on Brush Creek, in the County of Monroe, Virginia, under the
preceptorship of Rev. James W. Bennett, a ripe scholar and genial
Christian gentleman. I do not think I progressed as rapidly as I might,
most probably on account of some things that tended to distract my
attention from my studies. Toward the ending of the school there was
much talk about secession and war; in fact, it was the theme of
every-day conversation. Even the boys in the school talked learnedly
about the questions, and were divided in opinion much in the same
proportion as their fathers, guardians and neighbors.
As day after day passed and something new was constantly happening, the
feeling and excitement became more intense. As the war clouds began to
arise and seemingly to overshadow us, the mutterings of the distant
thunder could be heard in the angry words of debate and discussion in
the councils of the country, and at home among the extreme advocates of
secession on the one hand, and those holding extreme views opposed to
the principle and policy of secession on the other. This was not
confined to the men alone, but, as before stated, the school boys were
would-be statesmen, and in Mr. Bennett's school organized a debating
society, in which was most frequently discussed the question, "Shall
Virginia Secede from the Union?"--the question being generally decided
in the negative.
The meetings of the society were frequently attended by some of the men
of the neighborhood, and among them were Col. William Chambers, Major
Arnett, and Captain Shue. Colonel Chambers was a fierce, bold,
determined, and uncompromising Union man, opposed to secession in any
and every form or name in which it could be presented, while Major
Arnett and Captain Shue were much of the same way of thinking, but more
conservative in their utterances. These men and others frequently took
part in the debate and sometimes sat as judges.
When I took part in the discussion it was generally on the affirmative,
in favor of secession, my sentiments and convictions leading me in that
direction, though as a matter of fact my ideas were very crude, as I
knew little of the matter, not having at that time attained my
sixteenth year. I had only caught from my uncle, Chapman I. Johnston,
who had been educated and trained in the State Rights school of
politics, some faint ideas of the questions involved in the threatened
rupture.
Naturally following my early impressions, I became and was a strong
believer in and an advocate of State Rights, and secession, without
fair comprehension of what was really meant by the terms. My youthful
mind was inspired by the thought that I lived in the South, among a
southern people in thought, feeling and sentiment, that their interests
were my interests, their assailants and aggressors were equally mine,
their country my country,--a land on which fell the rays of a southern
sun, and that the dews which moistened the graves of my ancestors fell
from a southern sky; and not only this, but the patriotic songs, and
the thought of becoming a soldier, with uniform and bright buttons,
marching to the sound of martial music, a journey to Richmond, all
animated and enthused me and had the greatest tendency to induce and
influence me to become a soldier. Grand anticipations! Fearful reality!
When thinking of this, I am reminded of the story of Bill Douthat of
our Company, who, after trying the realities of war and soldier life
for a part of one year, returned home, and being strictly inquired of
as to what war was, what it meant, or how he liked it, answered, "Well,
gentlemen, I have seen the elephant; don't want to see him any more."
And after having tried it, I think I can truthfully say that Bill
expressed fully our views on the subject.
Leaving school about the last days of March or the first days of April,
I returned to my uncle's house.
Although Virginia had not yet seceded, there was an abundance of war
talk, and some of the people were rapidly coming to the conclusion that
war was inevitable, and that the only way the controversy could or
would be settled was by resort to arms, an appeal to the King of
Battles,--a submission to the arbitrament of the sword.
Volunteer military organizations already existed in various parts of
the state; perhaps there was scarcely a county or city in the
Commonwealth that did not have at least one organized volunteer
company.
Many overzealous persons declared their purpose to unite their fortunes
with the states which had already seceded, whatever the course of
Virginia might be, and many of these zealots were so much afraid that
there would be no war, or none in Virginia, that they hurried south;
however, the ardor of at least some of them became somewhat frigid as
the war became flagrant, until it is believed it fell below the
freezing point, and some of them going over to the enemy; helped stir
up the strife, then ran away, and let the other fellows do the
fighting.
Chapter II
Giles County, its Formation and Early Settlers.
Its Geographical Position, Topography and Population in 1860.
State of Political Parties.
Election of Delegate to the Convention.
Giles County, named for Hon. William B. Giles, once Governor of
Virginia, was created in 1806 out of the territory of Montgomery,
Tazewell, and Monroe counties; the county town or seat of justice,
Pearisburg, being named in honor of Col. George Pearis, a soldier of
the American Revolution, who donated to the county the land on which
the town is located. Colonel Pearis was a descendent of a French
Hugenot, and was born in the State of South Carolina, February 16,
1746. In a battle with the Tories at Shallow Ford of the Yadkin, North
Carolina, on the 14th day of October, 1780, he was wounded in the
shoulder, which disabled him for further military service, and on
reaching Virginia sought shelter with some relations on the New River,
at a place since known as Pepper's Ferry.
The settlement of what is now the territory of Giles County began at a
period anterior to the American Revolution, perhaps as early as 1755,
if not a few years before that date. Among the early settlers of Giles
County were the Lybrooks, Snidows, Harmans, Halls, Napiers, McComas',
Clays, Pearis', Peters', Hales McKenseys, Chapmans, Frenches,
Johnstons, Shumates, Hatfields, Adkins', Hares, Pecks, Hughes',
Wilburns, Shannons, and Banes, who were of Scot-Irish, German, Hugenot
and English blood, many of them suffering much from Indian incursions.
The population of this county, in 1860, was 6816, of whom 6038 were
free white persons. The county is situated in the midst of the great
Appalachian chain or range of mountains, distant from Richmond some
three hundred miles. Its length, thirty, by a mean width of twenty
miles. New River flows through it in a north-west direction, the chief
tributaries of which, in Giles County, are the Sinking, Walker's, Wolf,
Big Stony, and Little Stony creeks. Its principal mountains, Walker's,
Sugar Run, Angel's Rest, Wolf Creek, East River, Peters' and Salt Pond,
which are high, rugged, and precipitous. The streams are rapid, and the
surface of the country, other than the river and creek bottoms,
generally rough and broken, but the soil rich and fertile. The
population in 1861 was made up of sturdy, liberty-loving, hardy
mountaineers, engaged chiefly in agricultural pursuits, where brave men
are bred, accustomed to the chase and the use of firearms, which fitted
them for the hardships and privations of soldier life.
Politically, in 1860 and the early part of 1861, the county was fairly
evenly divided between the democratic and whig parties, with perhaps a
slight preponderance in favor of the democrats, the great body of whom,
with the State Rights whigs, being intensely southern in character, but
opposed to extreme measures, or hasty action.
In January, 1861, the legislature ordered an election for delegates to
a convention to consider the critical condition of the country, said
election to be held on the 4th day of February, at which in Giles
County Mr. Manilius Chapman was elected over Mr. Charles D. Peck by a
small majority. The convention assembled in Richmond on the 13th of
February, of which more hereafter.
Chapter III
What Will Not Be Attempted Herein.
How the Southern People Viewed the Situation.
Virginia as Peace Maker.
The Peace Conference and Its Failure.
Geographical, Territorial Position.
Assembling of the Convention and Its Action.
Mr. Lincoln's Attitude and Call for Troops.
Adoption of the Ordinance of Secession.
Preparations for Defense.
It is not herein attempted to record the causes which led to the
withdrawal of the Southern States from the Federal Compact of Union
framed by the Deputies of twelve of the Thirteen Original States, in
the City of Philadelphia on the 17th day of September, 1787, afterwards
acceded to and ratified by the states acting by and through conventions
of the sovereign people of the states entering into and forming the
Compact. Neither will it be discussed whether Secession is a violation
of the Constitution, nor whether it is or is not prohibited to the
states and no power granted or delegated to the Federal agent to
prevent it. It seems no longer a practical question, hence no
good purpose could be subserved by a discussion thereof. Some of
the arguments, however, of the Southern people are reproduced to
show how they viewed the question at the period of which I am
writing,--especially what Virginia people said and thought on the
subject.
In his inaugural address, Mr. Lincoln had declared his purpose to
repossess the forts which had been seized by troops of the seceded
states, reading to the Virginia Commissioners on April 13th a paper
setting forth his views declaring his purpose to coerce the seceded
States. By the Southern people this declaration by Mr. Lincoln was
construed as a purpose to wage immediate war of subjugation against the
South; in fact, no other meaning could be given to what he said.
Many of the Southern states did not want to leave the Union, abhorred
war, and especially was this true of Virginia. She therefore hesitated
before taking the step which was to separate her from that Union she
had contributed so much to create. Virginia, therefore, made overtures
to the government at Washington for an amicable and peaceful solution
of the questions agitating the country, which, if not adjusted, would
soon plunge the nation into the dreadful war to which we were rapidly
drifting. Virginia took the lead in the matter of pacification, by a
resolution of her legislature passed early in the month of January,
1861, recommending each of the states to appoint commissioners to a
convention, the object of which should be "to adjust the present
unhappy controversies." This proposition met the approval of President
Buchanan. Most of the states, save those which had then seceded,
responded by appointing delegates. In pursuance of this call, the
convention met in Washington, February 4, 1861, choosing John Tyler of
Virginia, chairman of the convention. After some three weeks'
deliberation, this "Peace Congress" submitted a number of propositions,
amendments to the Constitution. These propositions, together with most,
if not all overtures, came to naught, were rejected by the congress and
the party then in control of affairs at Washington.
On December 20th the State of South Carolina had seceded from the
Union, affirming and claiming that she, with her sister Southern
states, could no longer live on equal terms and in peace in that Union
and under that Constitution which many of the Northern states did not
hesitate to violate whenever it suited their interests; and further
insisting that there had been a powerful party organized in the North,
upon principles of ambition and fanaticism, whose purpose was to divert
the Federal Government from the external, and turn its power upon the
internal interests and domestic institutions of the Southern states;
that they had thus in the Northern states a party whose avowed object
not only threatened the peace but the existence of nearly one-half of
the states of the Republic; that this same party in the North proposed
to inaugurate a president, at the head of the Army and Navy, with vast
powers, not to preside over the common interests and destinies of all
the states alike, but upon partisan issues of avowed hostility, with
relentless war to be waged upon the rights and peace of half the states
of the Union.
This is but a faint picture of what awaited the Southern states, as
they saw it, upon the coming into power of a sectional party, with Mr.
Lincoln as chief magistrate, whose inaugural address clearly
foreshadowed war.
After repeated demands made by South Carolina, and after several
ineffectual attempts by negotiation for the surrender of Fort Sumter,
and a Federal fleet had sailed and was then off the harbor of
Charleston, for the reinforcing and provisioning of the garrison, it is
claimed that treachery and duplicity of the Federal government had been
used to deceive the state authorities of South Carolina as to the
surrender of the fort.
It was therefore decided to reduce the fort; hence, on the 12th day of
April, 1861, the bombardment commenced, the news of which fired the
Northern heart, notwithstanding the well known principle that it is not
always he who strikes the first blow that is the aggressor, but he who
by his conduct or act forces that blow to be given. However, the shot
had been fired which aroused the whole country to the highest pitch of
excitement, with seemingly no way to allay it. The war was on.
Let us return to the Virginia convention which assembled in Richmond
February 13th. These were momentous days. This historic body, composed
of the ablest and best men from the Commonwealth of Virginia, carefully
considered the grave issues involved, the fearful consequences of civil
strife. Upon the best authority it is averred that two-thirds of the
men composing this convention were opposed to secession, and preferred
to remain in the Union.
A committee on Federal Relations was appointed, which, on the 10th day
of March, reported fourteen resolutions, as follows: protesting against
all interference with slavery; declaring secession to be a right;
defining the grounds on which Virginia would feel herself to be
justified in exercising that right, namely: the failure to obtain
guarantees; the adoption of a warlike policy by the government of the
United States, or to reinforce, or recapture the Southern forts. These
resolves clearly defined the attitude of Virginia at this critical
moment. After serious discussion pro and con, all but the last of these
resolves had passed the convention, when the news was received that the
bombardment of Fort Sumter had begun.
Virginia was still for peace and the Union, endeavoring by every means
within her power to avert the awful calamity of civil war. Her
territorial limits were extensive, reaching from the northeast point of
North Carolina northwestward nearly five hundred miles to a point
within about one hundred miles of Lake Erie, practically separating the
eastern from the western states of the Union; hence her geographical
position entitled her to and gave her great power and influence toward
a settlement of the impending trouble. It was then claimed,--which was
no doubt true,--that the Federal Administration was anxious to see her
shorn of her power, which in a measure was accomplished by her
dismemberment, by the formation of West Virginia out of her territory,
and this by the aid of the Federal power.
Virginia's son was foremost in fanning the flames of revolution,
leading to the overthrow of British tyranny and the establishment of
American independence. Her son had written the Declaration of
Independence. Her son had led the Continental armies during the
Revolution, and her son was active in the framing and ratification of
the Federal Constitution. Virginia had been among the first to suggest
and to assist in creating the compact of union.
To the Confederated states and in the spirit of patriotism and
confidence in the continuance of good will, she had given to the Union
her north-west territory, an empire within itself, out of which six or
more states have been formed. She had furnished seven presidents to the
Republic.
It was on the 15th day of April that Mr. Lincoln issued his call for
seventy-five thousand troops. Virginia's quota, 2400, were to
rendezvous at points in Virginia, thus placing armed soldiers in her
territory, though still in the Union, her convention a few days
previous having refused to secede by a vote of 89 to 45. This act of
Mr. Lincoln was construed by our people as an act of war, and without
authority, that power being vested in Congress alone.
Thus it will be seen that all the efforts made by Virginia to preserve
the Union and peace had been defeated, Mr. Lincoln having pronounced
secession unlawful and void. Virginia was a Southern state, in sympathy
with her sister states of the South, and could not be induced to make
war on them, nor on the Northern states of the Union. The conduct of
the Federal Administration had not only forced her out of the Union,
but to take sides in the impending crisis. It was not a Southern
Confederacy that Virginia sought or her people fought for, but to
uphold and maintain the integrity and sovereignty of the state, and
this necessarily meant separate government. I am sure at no time did
the people of Virginia think of becoming the aggressors upon the rights
of the other states of the Federal Union.
The issue was, therefore, squarely presented. Virginia must decide on
which side she would stand. "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve,"
was the alternative. There was no middle ground, no neutral position,
no evading the issue. Against her persistent attachment to the Union,
the strongest appeals and bitterest denunciations, Virginia remained
unmoved.
When her voice and her pleadings were no longer heard, the news of the
bombardment of Fort Sumter, and Mr. Lincoln's call for troops, reached
the convention, the supreme moment had come. The die was cast. There
could be no further hesitation. On April 17th the Ordinance of
Secession, amid anguish and tears, was adopted by a vote of 81 to 51.
The call for troops by the President brought an immediate change in the
current of public opinion in Virginia from the mountains to the sea.
The Ordinance of Secession was ratified by the people on the 23d day of
May by a majority of 96,750 out of a total vote of 161,018.
Virginians having now made their decision to defend themselves and
their state, hastened to arms with ardor and a determined spirit of
resistance.
Chapter IV
Organization of Volunteer Forces.
Giles Not Behind Her Sister Counties.
A Company Organized at Pearisburg, with James H. French as Captain;
Eustace Gibson, First Lieutenant; William A. Anderson, Second
Lieutenant; and Joel Blackard, Second Junior Lieutenant; Captains James
D. Johnston and R. F. Watts on the Committee to Purchase Uniforms, etc.
The Ladies of the Town and Country.
In Barracks and on Drill.
Anecdote.
Dixie.
Our March to Wolf Creek.
Presentation of Bible and Flag.
On learning of the adoption of the Ordinance of Secession by the
convention, the country was ablaze with the wildest excitement, and
preparations for war began in earnest. Volunteer organizations of
troops were forming all over the state. Why and wherefore, may be
asked. Not to attack the Federal Government, to fight the Northern
states, but only to defend Virginia in the event of invasion by a
Northern army. There was at this time in the county, already organized
and fairly drilled, the volunteer company of Capt. William Eggleston,
of New River White Sulphur Springs. Pearisburg and the region
roundabout in the most part received the news of the secession of the
state with apparent relief and gladness, and immediately James H.
French, Esq., of Pearisburg, a lawyer and staunch, bold Southern man in
education, sentiment and feeling, assisted by others, commenced the
enlistment of a company of volunteer infantry to serve for the period
of twelve months from the date of being mustered into service,
believing that war, if it should come, would not last longer than one
year. Enlisting men for war was something new; people are always ready
to try something new, and as our people were possessed of a martial
spirit, this, together with the excitement and enthusiasm of the
occasion, made it no difficult matter to enroll a full company in an
incredibly short time. Names were readily obtained, among them my own.
I had to go with the boys,--my neighbors and schoolmates, little
thinking, or in the remotest degree anticipating, the terrible
hardships and privations which would have to be endured in the four
years which followed. The idea then prevalent among our people was that
we were not to be absent a great while; that there would probably be no
fighting; that Mr. Lincoln was not really in earnest about attempting
to coerce the seceded states, and if he was, a few Southern men would
suffice to put to rout the hordes of Yankeedom. If, however, the
Northern people were intent upon war, our people were ready to meet
them, because thoroughly aroused.
Our people had by this time arrived at the conclusion that war was
inevitable; no settlement on peaceable and honorable terms could be
had. They had therefore left the Union, which seemed to them the only
alternative. Consequently we felt obliged to appeal to the sword for
the settlement of questions which statesmanship had failed to solve;
yet always willing to make a child's bargain with the Northern
people,--"You leave us alone and we will leave you alone." Extravagant
utterances and speeches were made as to Southern prowess. It was even
said that one Southern man could whip five Yankees; that the old women
of the country with corn-cutters could drive a host of Yankees away;
but the people who made these assertions knew little of what they were
saying, for ere the war had long progressed we found we had our hands
full, and it soon became evident that we might like to find someone to
help us let go.
The organization of the company which afterwards became Company D, 7th
Virginia regiment, took place April 25, 1861. The only contest for
office worth relating was for the captaincy, which was between James H.
French and Andrew J. Grigsby, and resulted in the election of the
former. The following is a complete roster of the company, with dates
of enlistment, rank, etc., to be followed later by a tabulated
statement of losses in battle, by disease, desertion, discharge,
etc.:
ROSTER OF COMPANY D, 7TH VIRGINIA INFANTRY.
Date of enlistment. Name. Rank.
1861--April James H. French Captain
1861--April Eustace Gibson First Lieutenant
1861--April W. A. Anderson, Sec. Lieutenant
1861--April J. Blackard, Second Jr. Lieutenant
1861--April Allen C. Pack First Sergeant
1861--April John W. Mullins Second Sergeant
1861--April Joseph C. Hughes Third Sergeant
1861--April Wm. D. Peters Fourth Sergeant
1861--April Hamilton J. Hale Fifth Sergeant
1861--April Allen L. Fry First Corporal
1861--April Elisha M. Stone Second Corporal
1861--April T. N. Mustain Third Corporal
1861--April John W. Hight Fourth Corporal
1861--April David C. Akers Private
1861--August George W. Akers Private
1861--August William R. Albert Private
1861--August Daniel Bish Private
1861--August Allen M. Bane Private
1861--August Robert H. Bane Private
1861--April Joseph E. Bane Private
1861--August Jesse Barrett Private
1861--April Alexander Bolton Private
1861--August Travis Burton Private
1861--August William H. Carr Private
1861--August James M. Collins Private
1861--April John R. Crawford Private
1863--March William Crawford Private
1861--April James B. Croy Private
1861--April James Cole Private
1865--January D. E. Dulaney Private
1861--April M. J. Dulaney Private
1861--August Tim P. Darr Private
1861--April John S. Dudley Private
1861--April William H. Douthat Private
1861--April Thomas Davenport Private
1861--August David Davis Private
1861--April Elbert S. Eaton Private
1861--April Elisha D. East Private
1861--April John W. East Private
1861--April Joseph Eggleston Private
1861--April James H. Eggleston Private
1861--April Francis H. Farley Private
1861--April William C. Fortner Private
1861--April James H. Fortner Private
1861--April Jacob Tyler Frazier Private
1861--April William Frazier Private
1861--August Creed D. Frazier Private
1861--April William A. French Private
1861--April John S. W. French Private
1861--August Andrew J. French Private
1861--April James H. Gardner Private
1861--August Francis M. Gordon Private
1861--April Andrew J. Grigsby Private
1861--April Charles A. Hale Private
1861--April John A. Hale Private
1861--April John D. Hare Private
1861--April Isaac Hare Private
1861--April James B. Henderson Private
1861--August John Henderson Private
1861--Mar. 1862 Baldwin L. Hoge Private
1861--April 1861 James Hughes Private
1861--April James J. Hurt Private
1861--April George W. Hurt Private
1861--April John F. Jones Private
1861--April Manelius S. Johnston Private
1861--August George Johnston Private
1861--April David E. Johnston Private
1861--April George Knoll Private
1861--April Charles N. J. Lee Private
1861--April Joseph Lewy Private
1861--April Henry Lewy Private
1861--April William H. Layton Private
1861--April James Lindsey Private
1861--April Patrick H. Lefler Private
1861--August Anderson Meadows Private
1861--August Ballard P. Meadows Private
1861--April John Meadows Private
1861--April Newton J. Morris Private
1862--March Christian Minnich Private
1861--April George A. Minnich Private
1861--April John H. Minnich Private
1861--April Absalom D. Manning Private
1861--April Raleigh Merricks Private
1861--April Tapley P. Mays Private
1861--April John Q. Martin Private
1861--April John H. Martin Private
1861--August Wiley W. Muncey Private
1861--August George C. Mullins Private
1862--March James J. Nye Private
1861--April John Palmer Private
1861--August Charles W. Peck Private
1861--April John W. Sarver Private
1861--April Demarcus L. Sarver Private
1861--April Josephus Southern Private
1861--April Samuel B. Shannon Private
1861--April Joseph C. Shannon Private
1861--April William H. H. Snidow Private
1861--April John P. Sublett Private
1861--April William T. Sublett Private
1861--April Lewis R. Skeens Private
1861--April Alexander Skeens Private
1861--April Joseph Skeens Private
1861--April Amos L. Sumner Private
1861--August Thomas J. Stafford Private
1861--August William H. Stafford Private
1863--January Ralph M. Stafford Private
1861--April Andrew J. Thompson Private
1861--August Adam Thompson Private
1861--August Alonzo Thompson Private
1861--April Thomas S. L. Taylor Private
1861--April Lee E. Vass Private
1861--April Washington R. C. Vass Private
1861--April Elijah R. Walker Private
1861--April Lewis N. Wiley Private
1861--April Gordon L. Wilburn Private
1861--April Ballard P. Watts Private
1861--April Hugh J. Wilburn Private
1861--August William I. Wilburn Private
1861--April Edward Z. Yager Private
1861--April Thomas J. Young Private
1861--August Isaac Young Private
1861--April Jesse B. Young Private
Whole number of enlisted officers and men, 122.
[Illustration: James Harvey French]
Upon the company being organized, a committee was appointed by the
county court to purchase uniforms and blankets. This committee, which
was composed, as now recollected, of Captains James D. Johnston and R.
F. Watts, acted promptly, and the materials for the uniforms were soon
on hand. The ladies of the town and surrounding country went to work in
earnest and with energy to make our outfits. Herculean as was the task,
they accomplished it in an incredibly short time, and we soon donned
our bright new clothes, with nice brass buttons, and began to think
ourselves soldiers in fact. We occupied as barracks the large frame
building on the south-east side of the town, the same lately owned and
occupied by Capt. James D. Johnston as a residence. While here we
usually had daily squad and company drill, conducted by the
accomplished Captain W. W. McComas, then a practicing physician, who
had been a soldier in the Mexican War, and who, after the departure of
our company, raised and organized a company of which he was made
captain. He fell at his post in the forefront of the battle of South
Mills, North Carolina, April 19, 1862. He, like many others, died too
soon for his country's good, and his friends were greatly grieved and
distressed over his untimely death.
During the period which elapsed between the organization and departure
for Lynchburg, the designated place of rendezvous, and while in
barracks, "the boys," as we were wont to call ourselves, played many
pranks upon each other, one of which is worth relating. A sham or mock
election was held for the election of a fifth Lieutenant, the choice
falling on a very credulous member of the company, who, after the
announcement of his election, became quite anxious to know what the
duties of his office required of him,--which we, also ignorant of
military duties, were unable to answer. With his consent, it was agreed
to refer the solution of the matter to Lieutenant Anderson, who was
always full of wit and humor, ever ready with answer, and always
enjoyed a good joke. Upon the arrival of the Lieutenant, the question
was promptly referred to him, and without pausing he promptly answered,
"His duties are to carry water and catch fleas out of the soldiers'
beds." This seemed satisfactory to the newly elected Lieutenant, and
doubtless, as was afterwards demonstrated--for he always obeyed orders
and did his duty--he would have proceeded to perform his prescribed
duties as explained by Lieutenant Anderson, had not some one told him
that it was all a joke and a sell.
Early in May we were invited to a dinner prepared for us by the good
people living at and near the mouth of Wolf Creek, whither we marched,
partook of a bountiful repast, and returned to our barracks. During our
stay in barracks at Pearisburg, as before stated, we were frequently
drilled by Captain McComas, who attempted to teach us to keep the step
and to cheer, or huzzah. The latter was no easy task, for in fact we
never did learn uniformity in the "huzzah," but gradually drifted into
that wild "rebel yell," as it was called, which so often sent a thrill
of horror into the Yankee ranks, and the memory of which brings a cold
chill over those fellows yet! "Dixie," "Bonnie Blue Flag" and other
patriotic songs, sung by the choir of the company, greatly enthused us,
but "Dixie" had more music in it than all others put together, and it
has ever been so, even to this good day.
As all people of all lands are more or less fond of "flag worship," it
was altogether fit and proper that the company should have a suitable
emblem or flag, and the women, always first in every good work,
determined to present to the company a flag and a Bible. Both were soon
ready, and it was determined to have a formal presentation of each.
Miss Mary Woodram, now the widow of Dr. James O'Keiffe, presented the
flag, and the pupils of Pearisburg Academy the Bible, which was placed
in the custody of Jacob Tyler Frazier, who had been selected as
chaplain, the flag being delivered to Joseph Edward Bane, the company's
ensign. J. Smoot Dennis, a boy of only seven years of age, a pupil of
the school, presented the Bible, in the following little speech:
"The teachers and pupils of Pearisburg Academy beg leave to present
this copy of the Holy Scriptures to our magnificent 'Mountain Boomers'
as an expression of our confidence in their Christian faith and
patriotism."
To which the chaplain responded:
"On behalf of the 'Mountain Boomers' I accept this book, knowing it to
be the Word of God. I shall read it with care and diligence, and on all
suitable occasions will endeavor to explain and enforce its claims.
Should any of our band fall sick in camp, or be wounded on the field,
then from the great treasure of its precious promises I will bring balm
for the suffering, and point them to Him whose mission to earth was to
bind up the broken-hearted and save that which was lost. If the Pale
Horse and his Rider should overtake any of us in a distant land, we
will rest in hope of the glorious appearing of Him who is the
Resurrection and the Life, and with whom we shall be gathered into that
land which no foe invades, and where friends are parted no more."
Chapter V
The Election for the Ratification of the Ordinance of Secession Was
Held on the Fourth Thursday of May, the 23d. On That Day Members of the
House of Delegates, and Perhaps Other Officers Were to be Elected.
Our Departure.
Lynchburg and to Manassas Junction.
The total vote (1033) in Giles County was cast in favor of the
ratification of the Ordinance of Secession. Captain William Eggleston
was elected to the House of Delegates over Dr. John W. Easley by a
majority of 234 votes. Our departure for the rendezvous was delayed for
the purpose of giving such members of the company as were entitled to
vote the opportunity to do so. To avoid delay and to furnish means to
carry us to the railway station twenty-one miles away, preparations
were made in advance to transport us in wagons.
The day arrived at last. It was a lovely May morning; the sun shone in
all his splendor, the birds sang, all nature seemed to smile, and there
was nothing to indicate that this should be the last farewell for many
noble Giles County boys to home, friends, and loved ones. We seemed to
be going on a holiday journey, to return in a few days. But alas! when
the time of departure arrived, what a change of scene! The town was
being filled with people,--the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters,
wives, relatives, friends and lovers of the men and boys who were
starting on the errand of war. Here was a fond and loving mother
clinging to her baby boy, weeping, sobbing, praying the Father of all
Mercies to protect and preserve the life of her darling child, amidst
the fury and storm of battle. There stood the patriotic, gray haired
father, the tears trickling down his cheeks, giving to his beloved son
words of comfort, begging that he act the man, be brave, do his duty,
refrain from bad habits, and to shun all appearance of evil. A loving
sister might be seen with her arms around a brother's neck, reminding
him of her love and attachment, and her grief and sorrow at parting
from one with whom she had been associated from childhood's days, upon
whom she had leaned for protection, and upon whom her fondest hopes for
the future rested, and whose face she was, in all probability, gazing
upon for the last time. Ears were not deaf to the mutual promises and
plighted faith of lovers, of what they hoped one day should be
realized. Nor were eyes dim to the parting glances and silent tears,
for scarcely could be found an eye that was not bathed in tears on this
occasion. It was weeping, shaking of hands, "goodbye," and "God bless
you;" and thus the scene continued until the long train of wagons drove
us away.
On reaching the residence of that hospitable gentleman, Thomas Shannon,
ten miles away, we found in his orchard near the spring a long table on
which was spread a splendid dinner. After partaking thereof, and
resting a short time, we resumed our journey towards Dublin, arriving
there at sunset. Assembling near the station, we were addressed by
Colonel Pogue and Mr. Frank Wysor, whose speeches were well timed and
patriotic, which, together with the good supper furnished us, had the
effect to dispel in some degree the gloom and sadness of the morning.
At eleven o'clock P.M. we boarded the train for Lynchburg, arriving
there at sunrise next morning. With us were Robinson and Hurt, drummer
and fifer, who kept us well supplied with music during that long
night's ride. Crowded closely in the coaches, unaccustomed to riding on
the cars, and sleeping none, we found ourselves on reaching Lynchburg
pretty badly used up. Falling into line at the station, we marched up
Bridge street to Main, then to a back street above, going into quarters
in a tobacco warehouse, where we remained but a day and night; then to
the fair grounds, or Camp Davis, as it was called. There we were joined
by Captain Eggleston's company, the Mercer company under Captain
Richardson, with several companies from the counties of Franklin,
Henry, Patrick, Floyd, Montgomery, and Carroll, which later formed the
24th Virginia regiment of infantry, commanded by Colonel, afterwards
Lieutenant-General Jubal A. Early, Peter Hairston, Lieut.-Col., and J.
P. Hammett as Major. Colonel Early was not in camp with us at Lynchburg
and did not join us until we reached Manassas. The camp was in charge
of Lieut.-Col. Hairston, a tall, slender, sandy-haired, blue-eyed man,
good natured, but, as we then thought, evidently better qualified to
manage his farm down in Henry County than a green military force
composed of Virginia gentlemen, unused as they were to restrictions or
restraints upon their personal liberty, and not to be broken into
harness, so to speak, in a few days.
Our quarters were rude plank sheds with inclined rough floors; our
bedding not of feathers, but of a little straw and blankets. As no one
in the company knew anything of the art of cooking, what little was
done as a matter of course was badly done; the cooking vessels
consisting of a tin cup, camp kettle, and frying pan. Bread was
generally furnished from the bakers' shops of the city, while meat,
rice, beans, peas, etc., had to be dumped into a camp kettle and boiled
together--so that it requires no strong stretch of the imagination on
the part of the reader to realize that we had a real mess. However,
"necessity, the mother of invention," compelled us to learn how to
cook, and we were right apt scholars.
In a few days after taking up quarters at Camp Davis, there were issued
and delivered to us Springfield muskets, bayonets, scabbards, cartridge
boxes, but no ammunition. With these muskets we performed quarter
guard, the chief objects of which seemed to be to keep the men out of
the city, and to give us some knowledge as to the handling of arms. In
accomplishing the first named purpose it was vain; the guards had
muskets, but no powder and ball, therefore if anyone were desirous of
passing the lines into the city, he had only to wait until the sentry
turned on his beat to walk away, then glide quickly across the line;
but when the sentry did catch a fellow, he usually made him stand at
the point of his bayonet, marking time, until the corporal of the guard
could answer the call and conduct the prisoner to the guardhouse.
Consequently a different remedy was resorted to by the officers, viz.:
The frequent call of the roll, by which the absentees were readily
ascertained. This had the effect of lessening the practice of going
into the city without permission.
We remained in Lynchburg eight days, breaking camp at Camp Davis Friday
the 31st day of May, 1861, and departing that evening in freight cars
over the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, for Manassas Junction, a
distance of one hundred miles or more. After a long, tiresome,
all-night ride, we reached Manassas at sunrise on the morning of June
1st, the morning on which occurred, at Fairfax Court House, a skirmish
between the Federal and Confederate outposts, in which Capt. John Q.
Marr, of Fauquier, was killed and Major Ewell wounded. The Confederate
post at Manassas was named "Camp Pickens" in honor of Governor Pickens
of South Carolina.
Chapter VI
Stay at the Junction.
Organization of Twenty-fourth Regiment as Afterwards Completed.
March to Camp Davis Ford.
First Night on Picket.
Alarm.
March to the Town of Occoquan and Back Again.
A War of Words.
Serious Fight Imminent.
Leaving the Twenty-fourth Regiment.
Camp Tick Grove, and a Personal Difference.
A More Perfect Union.
Camp Wigfall.
Officers of the Seventh Virginia Regiment.
Blondeau's Shot.
How We Cooked, Ate and Slept.
Shannon's Bob.
Rumors Afloat of Pending Battle.
Three Days' Rations Cooked.
The day, or second day, after arriving at Manassas, began the
organization of the 24th Virginia Regiment of Infantry, with companies
from the counties of Carroll, Floyd, Montgomery, Henry, Franklin,
Patrick, Mercer and Giles, including our company, the regiment
numbering about one thousand men. In our company were J. Tyler Frazier,
the company Chaplain, Thomas S. Taylor, James B. Henderson, the
Eggleston boys, and perhaps others not now recalled, whose custom and
habit was not to retire at night until they had held devotional
exercises, thanked God for His past mercies and blessings, and asked
His care and protection during the night. This they had not failed to
do since leaving home. Taps were sounded at nine o'clock, when all
lights must be extinguished. One night at Manassas taps sounded while
the boys were at their devotions. Colonel Hairston, seeing the light in
their tent still burning, had the boys marched to the guard house; but
they were soon released.
After two or three days at the Junction, we marched seven or eight
miles to Davis' Ford on the Occoquan river, a stream formed by the
junction of Cedar Run, Broad Run, and Bull Run, where we went into
camp, pitching tents in a field on the right of the road, behind a
skirt of pines which lined the northeast bank of the stream. The
Occoquan here is small, with high banks. The field where we camped was
barren, not even covered with grass. Our beds were mother earth, our
rations were cooked in frying pans and camp-kettles, and we had to wash
our own clothes, often without soap.
Company drill was our daily avocation, and when well and closely
followed was quite irksome, especially in warm, sultry weather. We also
performed quarter guard and did picket duty, the latter by detachments
from the various companies, under the command of a commissioned
officer, arranged by alternate service. The picket post was nearly a
mile in advance of the camp, the small stream flowing between.
No one but a soldier can form any proper conception of the feelings and
imaginations of a green boy performing his first night's picket duty on
the outpost, and in order to give some meager idea of such a situation,
the writer will here relate his personal experience during his first
night on the outpost.
It must be kept in mind that the private soldier is supposed to be a
mere machine, which, if not in working order, may somewhere along the
line produce friction. This machine is supposed to know nothing but his
duty and obey orders,--the instructions of his superiors. If placed on
outpost duty and told that there is nothing in front of him but the
enemy, to keep a sharp lookout, and to warn of the approach of danger,
he is not expected to ask questions. My time came to go on duty at ten
o'clock at night. The night was cloudy and dark, but pleasant. I was
placed on the road by which it was supposed the enemy might come, and
given the countersign. From ten o'clock to twelve, midnight, was the
time I had to remain, unless the enemy captured or ran me away. What a
long two hours! The silence was oppressive. I stood peering through the
darkness, away a half a mile or more from any human being, so far as I
knew, imagining that every noise or bush shaken by the passing breeze
was a veritable foe.
The long two hours had nearly passed away, when--hush! in the distance,
on the hard beaten road, not two hundred yards away, came the sound of
approaching hoof-beats. Yankees, of course! Who else could they be? I
had no information that any of our troops were on the road in front of
us. What should I do? To fire before challenging and alarm the camp
would be highly improper; to run away without challenging or firing
would be an act of cowardice. So, nerving myself as well as I could
under the circumstances, remembering the instructions and countersign,
I awaited the coming of the party with all the courage I then seemed
to possess. Supposing them to have approached to within some fifty
yards,--though it was most likely a hundred yards--I challenged
the party, and was answered, "Friends, with the countersign." Then
the rejoinder, "One of you dismount, come forward and give the
countersign," which was quickly done, and the party passed on; and you,
gentle reader, may be assured there was one on his first night's picket
duty who breathed with more ease. The spell was broken,--thereafter I
had less trouble when on the outpost.
A few nights after this occurrence, the soldier on duty at this same
post discharged his musket, which aroused the camp nearly a mile away.
Such excitement was scarcely ever witnessed. The long roll sounded,
officers cried out, "Fall in! Fall in! The enemy is coming!" Had this
been true, there is little doubt that in the confusion and darkness of
the night there would have been a stampede.
On the 10th of June we struck tents, taking up the line of march for
the village of Occoquan, in the direction of the Potomac River. Our
march was only about twelve miles,--hot, dry and dusty, through a
country scarce of water. Many a scuffle at wells that we passed took
place among the men famishing for water. Our march by the route step
was rapid, much too rapid for troops unused to marching and carrying
guns, accouterments, knapsacks, blankets and canteens, which, together,
weighed from fifty to seventy-five pounds, and which, with our heavy,
close fitting coats, made the march burdensome and cruel in the
extreme; this in part because the commandant refused to halt for rest
or to allow the men to get water. About sunset camp was reached, all
hands broken down and exhausted. Next day we marched back, our boys in
disgust, some of them quoting the King of France, who with fifty
thousand men marched up the hill and then marched down again.
On the tramp to Occoquan occurred a difficulty between Lieutenant
Hairston and our Lieutenant Gibson, the two high bloods squaring
themselves in the road for battle, but the prompt intervention of Major
J. P. Hammett of the regiment prevented the trouble, which threatened
to involve not only the two officers but their respective companies,
and which difficulty was the cause of the transfer of our company from
the 24th to the 7th Virginia regiment.
We rested for a few days in camp in a grove of pines not far from
Manassas, to which we gave the name of "Camp Tick Grove," from the fact
of our being nearly eaten up by the seed-ticks that infest that region.
Nothing of interest transpired while in this camp further than that the
writer had a small personal difference with a great burly fellow, which
but for the timely interference of a comrade might have resulted in
somebody getting threshed. It was a trifling affair, soon over and
forgotten. Our transfer to the 7th Virginia regiment being duly
effected, we left the "camp of terror" and at Camp Wigfall formed a
more perfect union with our new regiment, commanded by Colonel James L.
Kemper of Madison County; of which regiment Lewis B. Williams of Orange
was lieutenant-colonel, and W. T. Patton, of Culpeper, major.
This regiment was formed of ten companies, two from Madison, two from
Rappahannock, one from Albemarle, one from Greene, one from Orange,
one from Washington, D.C., one from Culpeper, and one from
Giles--designated by letters as follows:
Co. A, Capt. John Welch, Madison County.
Co. B, Capt. Thos. B. Massie, Rappahannock County.
Co. C, Capt. John C. Porter, Culpeper County.
Co. D, Capt. James H. French, Giles County.
Co. E, Capt. John Taylor, Culpeper and Orange Counties.
Co. F, Capt. F. M. McMullen, Greene County.
[1]Co. G, Capt. Austin Walden, Rappahannock County.
Co. H, Capt. William Cleary, District of Columbia.
Co. I, Capt. Isaac Winn, Albemarle County.
Co. K, Capt. William Lovell, Madison County.
Dr. C. Bruce Morton, Surgeon.
Rev. Mr. Bocock, Chaplain.
Rev. Mr. McCarthy, Chaplain.
Rev. Mr. J. Tyler Frazier, Acting Chaplain.
Captain Crisler, Quartermaster.
Captain Graves, Quartermaster.
Captain J. W. Green, Commissary.
The adjutants who served in the 7th Virginia were:
Charles C. Flowerree, 1861 to April, 1862.
E. B. Starke, April, 1862, to June 30, 1862.
Hugh M. Patton, ----, 1862, to August 30, 1862.
John H. Parr, September, 1862, to April, 1865.
Sergeant-Majors:
George S. Tansill, to June 30, 1862.
---- Park, to August 30, 1862.
David E. Johnston, from November, 1862, to April, 1865.[2]
[1] This company joined the regiment on the morning of the
day of first battle of Manassas.
[2] I recall the names of some of the officers who came in
later as well as men, to wit: Captains W. O. Fry, Thomas Fry,
F. McMullen; J. W. Almerid, Thos. Harris, Phil S. Ashby,
Thos. G. Popham, Jas. G. Tansill; Lieutenants Porter, Jas.
Brown; Sergeants Wm. Aylor, Apperson, Parrott, Billy Fray, H.
C. Burrows and Frank Burrows.
Camp Wigfall was situate on a beautiful upland grass plot, a short
distance southeast of Manassas, and not far from Bull Run. Here we
spent the time rather pleasantly, engaging in daily company and
battalion drill and doing picket duty on two old country roads leading
in the direction of Bull Run.
Blondeau, the Frenchman, belonging to Company H, caused quite a stir
and excitement one night by firing his gun at an imaginary foe, which
turned out to be a cow browsing in the brush near him. The long roll
was sounded, the camp aroused, the regiment put into line, but before
this was accomplished the camp was in an uproar, one had lost his
boots, another his trousers, another his gun, etc. On the companies
reaching their positions in regimental line, ten rounds of ammunition
were ordered given each man, and non-commissioned officers directed to
make the distribution. It was often told of our Corporal Stone that
while dealing out ammunition, on the occasion referred to, one of the
men remarked to him that he was giving him more than ten caps, to which
the Corporal replied in quick, sharp tone, "Oh, it's no time to count
caps now!" Of course no one knowing the Corporal attributed his remark
to a want of courage, for no cooler, truer, braver man belonged to the
company. Such signification as it had was simply that men unused to
"war's alarms," aroused from slumber at the dead of night, would,
despite themselves, become excited and impatient, and especially so
when they momentarily expected the enemy to pounce upon them; but no
enemy came. We, however, rested on our arms the remainder of the night;
and though no foe appeared, some of the men were credited with having
seen some in the distance--on the hills, in the open fields, but on the
coming of light they were found to be merely harmless bushes. On such
occasions the imagination is naturally fertile.
The camp becoming quiet, we settled down to old habits. Rations were
abundant, more thrown away than we consumed. Inaction was not good for
us, and numbers of men became sick and were sent to hospital. Our
soldiers, like other people, loved to sleep. If their rest was broken
or disturbed at night, by picket, quarter guard, duty, or otherwise,
they were sure to take a nap the next day, if the flies, of which there
were swarms, would allow them to snooze. If they failed to get their
nap during the day they were pretty sure to have their nocturnal
slumbers disturbed by gnats and mosquitos, especially during the warm
nights.
Two members of our company, Samuel B. and Joseph C. Shannon, sons of
Thomas Shannon, had with them a negro servant, Bob, as their cook. Bob
was noted for his propensity for laughing, and when in a good glee he
could be heard half a mile. He was very patriotic, and declared his
purpose to go into battle with his young masters; that he could and
would fight as well as we, and shoot as many Yankees. In this Bob was
in earnest, as he believed; but ere long his courage was to be put to a
practical test, for rumors were already afloat in the camp that the
enemy was advancing and a battle impending.
The private soldier knows little of what takes place, other than that
which comes under his immediate observation. His general was supposed
to keep his own counsels, not allowing his left hand to know what he
intended to do with his right. Later on, the private soldier of the
Civil War became often as wise about what was on hand as his superior.
An order came to cook three days' rations, pack haversacks, and be
ready to move at a moment's notice. From this, we knew something was
up. Just what, we could not tell; however, we learned that the enemy
was advancing, and a battle to be fought. All was now activity and
preparation in the camp, and the men in high spirits and ready for the
fray.
Chapter VII
Breaking Camp at Wigfall.
The March to the Battlefield.
General Beauregard and His Appearance and Advice.
First Cannon Shot.
Battle of Bull Run.
The Advance.
The Charge.
The Wounded.
Isaac Hare and John Q. Martin.
Retreat of the Enemy.
Severe Artillery Duel.
The Dutchman and His Chunk of Fat Bacon.
Casualties.
Breaking camp at Wigfall Wednesday noon, July 17, the 7th regiment
marched in the direction of McLean's ford on Bull Run, halting on the
high land nearly a mile from the Run, and going into bivouac, or rather
lying down in an uncultivated field, where we rested quietly during the
night. Moving next morning a short distance, we halted on an eminence,
overlooking Mitchell's, Blackburn's and McLean's fords, and the country
beyond, whence about noon we observed clouds of dust to the north. Very
soon after this came the sound of brisk skirmish firing, and the roar
of cannon from the direction of Mitchell's ford.
The 24th Virginia, 7th Louisiana, and 7th Virginia regiments
constituted a brigade commanded by Col. J. A. Early. Longstreet's
brigade, holding Mitchell's ford, against which the enemy directed his
principal attack, consisted of the 1st, 11th and 17th Virginia
regiments.
The 7th Virginia moved towards the firing along a narrow country road
and over a field which had been planted in corn, in which field near
the road, in charge of a guard, was a Federal prisoner. We eyed him
closely, Bob, the colored cook, especially observing him with interest.
At McLean's gate, as we passed, stood General Beauregard, the commander
of the Confederate forces,--slim, strong shouldered, five and a half
feet high, of swarthy complexion, and lightish mustache. He appeared
calm, and collected, saying as we passed, in a quiet, low tone: "Keep
cool, men, and fire low; shoot them in the legs."
I am reminded to state here that in the earlier battles of the war I
have seen men in their excitement fire their muskets into the air at an
angle of probably forty-five degrees, and others so lowering their guns
that the ball would strike the ground but a few feet in front of them.
This, however, was soon corrected, and the men took good aim.
[Illustration: Lieut. Eustace Gibson]
Pushing forward from this point some two hundred yards, we halted on
the left of the road under cover of a belt of pines, which sheltered us
from the view of the enemy. Soon came the boom of a cannon, the ball
whizzing and buzzing over our heads. All eyes turned in the direction
of the noise of the ball, which struck the house near where General
Beauregard was standing. A second shot came, the ball cutting away an
apple tree near the house referred to, causing a team of horses to take
fright and run away, as well as the colored man, Bob, who, musket in
hand, had halted at the house, and the last seen of him that day he was
making rapid speed for Manassas. Bob never expressed any regret for the
run he had made, satisfied with his experience. The rattle of musketry
in our front made strange music, affecting some of the men very
peculiarly, especially John W. East, of our company, who, on account of
a severe pain in the region of his stomach, clasped both hands across
that locality, becoming almost doubled, which wholly disabled him for
the fight.
The order for the advance came, and forward we went along the narrow
country road, through the pines, with a wild yell, and at double quick,
accompanied by a section of the Washington (Louisiana) artillery,
commanded by Lieutenant Squires. Meeting on the way some wounded men of
the 1st Virginia regiment, pale and bleeding, had any other than a
pleasant and happy effect upon our nervous systems, tending somewhat to
dampen the ardor.
Emerging into an open field two hundred yards from Bull Run, by a
movement by the right flank, we were in line advancing towards the
stream, the banks of which were covered with timber, the opposite bank
sloping from the stream, high and precipitous. Within one hundred yards
of the stream, from the opposite bank the enemy poured into our ranks,
or rather at us, a volley of musketry, which, thanks to his bad
marksmanship, went high, doing little or no damage, but causing us, by
common impulse, as is usual with soldiers in their first battle, to
fall flat on the ground, and down we went. On the side next the enemy,
in front of Isaac Hare, was John Q. Martin, who sprang over Ike,
leaving him next the enemy. Ike, with a curse and threatening gesture,
compelled Martin to resume his former position. The men of the regiment
were immediately upon their feet. As they rose, Lieutenant Squires,
whose section of artillery had unlimbered immediately in our rear, gave
the command, "Fire!" which command, being mistaken by our men for that
of our own officer, caused us to let fly, a terrific volley at the
enemy in the woods in our front, and this was followed by a rush with
fixed bayonets for the stream, behind which the enemy was posted,
forcing him to retreat in confusion, leaving his dead and wounded,
knapsacks, haversacks, hats and part of his small arms. Reaching the
bank of the stream, the regiment lay down, and there followed for more
than an hour a fierce artillery duel between the Federal batteries and
the Confederate, the latter under Lieutenant Squires, which resulted in
the withdrawal of the former. During this bombardment, shell, shot and
shrapnel fell around and among us, wounding a few men of the regiment,
but all were quiet, and continued to hug the ground. This was about
five o'clock in the afternoon.
George Knoll, "Dutchman," as we usually called him, being in his
characteristic mood, but hungry, took from his haversack a chunk of fat
bacon, stuffing himself while the artillery fire was in progress.
Quiet now reigning, we began to look after the wounded and prepare
for spending the night in battle line in front of the enemy, who had
retired from our immediate front, but still hovered near by.
The troops engaged on the Confederate side, save the artillery
mentioned, were principally the 1st, 11th and 17th Virginia of
Longstreet's brigade, with the 7th Virginia of Early's. The losses in
Longstreet's regiments, as reported, were: Killed and mortally wounded,
15, and slightly wounded, 53. Of these casualties 40 were of the 1st
Virginia. Seven were wounded in the 7th Virginia of Early's brigade,
one killed and five wounded of the artillery. In Company D of the 7th
regiment Isaac Hare and James H. Gardner were slightly wounded by spent
balls. H. C. Burrows of E Company got a musket ball through his hand; a
man of B Company had his hand or fingers mangled by a piece of shell.
The Federal force that attacked us was Richardson's brigade, of Tyler's
division, consisting of the 1st Massachusetts, 2d and 3d Michigan, and
12th New York regiments; Ayers' battery, and Brackett's cavalry. The
Federal loss, as reported, was 19 killed, 38 wounded, and 26 missing.
Chapter VIII
Night's Experience on Our First Battlefield.
The Dead and Cries of the Wounded.
Occurrences on the Field.
Sunday, July 21.
Shelled by the Enemy.
March to the Field by the Sound of Battle.
The Battle.
Casualties.
The Pursuit.
To the Outposts.
Incidents.
Winter at Centerville.
Returning to the battle line, we found ourselves groping around in the
dark.
Knowing the enemy to be close by, we quietly went to work throwing up
temporary breastworks of logs. The cries of the Federal wounded, and
the groans of the dying, the occasional volleys of musketry fired by
some of our troops at imaginary foes, with the hooting of owls, made
the night hideous and weird, deeply impressing the nature of a lot of
young Virginia boys reared in Christian homes. The regiment behaved,
however, with great coolness during the entire night, encouraged by the
example, presence and good conduct of our brave Lieutenant-Colonel
Williams, then in command, Colonel Kemper being absent on public
service.
With the coming of daylight, the Confederate scouts crossed the Run,
brought in the Federal wounded, and quite a number of muskets,
knapsacks, blankets, canteens, cartridge boxes, and hats, thrown away
or dropped by the enemy in his flight. By an examination of the dead in
front of our regiment, it was ascertained that we had fought the 1st
Massachusetts regiment.
This action of the 18th was preliminary to the real battle which came
on Sunday the 21st, but on different ground, seven or eight miles
northwest of the engagement of the 18th as just described. During
Friday and Saturday all was quiet, the Confederate line of battle
extending from Union Mills to Stone Bridge, several miles in length;
the enemy in the meantime keeping up a showing of force, threatening
our front at McLean's, Blackburn's and Mitchell's fords, while his main
column was moving or preparing to move northwest to strike the
Confederate battle line in flank and reverse on its extreme left.
Our regiment remained Friday night and until late Saturday evening at
the same place at which it had halted on Thursday; being then relieved
by other troops, retired to a pine thicket close by, where we received
a bountiful supply of rations, some in boxes from home,--a thing that
makes glad the heart of a homesick boy.
On Saturday evening we were joined by Colonel Kemper, the commander of
the regiment. At sunrise on Sunday morning, July 21, the enemy's
batteries near Blackburn's opened fire, on account of which we marched
to the cover of the pines, between McLean's and Blackburn's fords,
remaining but a short time. Our regiment, together with the 7th
Louisiana, crossed the Run at McLean's ford for the purpose of
attacking the enemy's batteries, which were annoying us, occasionally
throwing shots into our ranks, without, however, doing any serious
damage. It will be recalled by those present that while lying down
behind the pines a shot struck near the center of our company,
scattering dust and dirt over us.
While getting into battle line, preparatory to assault upon the
batteries, an order came to retrace our steps to the cover of the
pines. This was near 12 M. By this time we distinctly heard the roar of
heavy guns far to our left, and the great Battle of First Manassas was
on.
Near one o'clock P.M., we moved by a rapid gait with the head of the
column directed northwest, guided by the sound of the battle. The
distance from our starting point, McLean's, by the route we marched to
the extreme Confederate left, was fully eight miles, which distance was
covered in two hours, notwithstanding the scorching rays of the sun,
stopping not for rest or water, for want of which we suffered. The
three regiments of Colonel Early's brigade, 7th Louisiana, 7th
Virginia, and 13th Mississippi, (the latter substituted for 24th
Virginia) passed to the extreme Confederate left, reaching there at
near 3:20 P.M., finding themselves face to face with the foe at the
Chinn house and in open ground.
Approaching the scene of action, a wild cheer was heard, following
which a man on horseback at full speed, hatless, face flushed, covered
with perspiration and dust, brandishing his sword over his head, and
shouting, "Glory! Glory! Glory!" rode rapidly by. In answer to inquiry
as to what was the matter, he said, "We have captured Rickett's battery
and the day is ours." This was the first glad news we had received, and
all were thrilled with new courage. Cheering wildly, the men pressed
forward at double quick. Passing in rear and beyond a wood into which
Smith's Confederate brigade had just entered, we encountered the fire
of the enemy, mostly United States Regulars. The 7th Virginia here
formed quickly, the 7th Louisiana and 13th Mississippi forming on the
left, thus completing the battle line with three regiments front. Nor
had we arrived a moment too soon, for the enemy was pressing our left
flank sorely. There they were, in full view on our front, and to the
left of us on the higher ground. Here Colonel Early[3] ordered us not
to fire, saying that they were our friends: a grievous blunder upon his
part, the result of misinformation not easily explained. Captain
Massie, whose company was armed with rifles, called out, "Colonel, they
may be your friends, but they are none of ours. Fire, men!" and fire
they did.
[3] See Colonel Early's Report, Rebellion Records, Series 1,
Vol. II, pp. 555-6.
As we formed, the enemy at long range kept up an irregular fire,
inflicting upon our men considerable loss in killed and wounded, and
all this while we were too far away from them to pay them back in their
own coin. As we pushed forward towards the enemy, they retreated
pell-mell, we chasing them over the hill towards Bull Run, considerably
in advance of the general Confederate battle line forming across a
peninsula created by a sharp curve on Bull Run between Stone Bridge and
the mouth of Catharpin creek.
Up to this time we had little realization of the utter defeat of the
Federal army, the evidence of which we saw a few days after, when,
following his line of retreat, we found guns, caissons, muskets,
ambulances, spades, picks and knapsacks abandoned in his flight. The
only reason seemingly the enemy had for running as he did was because
he could not fly.
The casualties in the 7th Virginia for the limited time it was under
fire were severe--nine killed and thirty-eight wounded, our Company D
losing Joseph E. Bane, a brave and gallant soldier, killed; Robert H.
Bane, A. L. Fry, Manelius S. Johnston, Charles N. J. Lee, Henry Lewy,
John P. Sublett, and Samuel B. Shannon wounded. The loss of the
Confederates in the battle was 387 killed, 1582 wounded, and 13
captured.
The Federal loss was 2896 men, of which 460 were killed, 1124 wounded,
and 1312 captured or missing, besides 26 pieces of artillery, 34
caissons and sets of harness, 10 battery wagons and forges, 24
artillery horses, several thousand stand of small arms, many wagons
and ambulances, large quantities of army supplies of all kinds.
The Confederate army remained on the field after the battle for two
days, amidst a terrific rainstorm; then marching beyond Centerville,
six miles to the east, went into camp in a body of woods, where we
remained for some weeks; thence moved a short distance beyond Fairfax
Court House. Here we laid out our camp and pitched tents, which was
barely done when the long roll sounded and we were quickly on the march
in the direction of Alexandria and Washington, whither we should have
been pushing the day after the battle; for if vigorous pursuit had been
made, Washington would have fallen into our hands.
The march referred to took us to Munson's hill; learning on the way
that a brisk skirmish between the enemy and some Confederate troops had
occurred during the day, which had only ended with the approach of
darkness. Halting near Munson's hill, an order was given to load
muskets, and again we moved forward. John W. East, from sheer
cowardice--constitutional--he could not avoid it--fell at full length
in the road. John turned up in camp a few days after, in fair health
and clothed in his right mind. The regiment passed on a few hundred
yards to the base of the hill, going into camp. The following morning,
Company K, together with Company D, under Captain Lovell, on the right
and front of the hill had quite a sharp skirmish with the enemy. Next
morning, Saturday, August 30, Major Patton, with Companies B and D,
advanced to Bailey's Corners, three-quarters of a mile or so, where
they engaged in quite a fusillade with a portion of the Second Michigan
regiment, in which a lieutenant of B Company was wounded, and one man
of the Michigan regiment was mortally wounded.
In a few days after the skirmish just described, we returned to our
camp, where we found peace and plenty. Lieutenant W. A. Anderson, who
at Camp Wigfall had been detailed to go back home and secure additional
men to fill up the loss in the ranks, caused by sickness, had returned
with the following men, to wit: George W. Akers, William R. Albert,
David Davis, Creed D. Frazier, A. J. French, Francis M. Gordon, John
Henderson, George Johnston, P. H. Lefler, Anderson Meadows, Ballard P.
Meadows, Winton W. Muncey, George C. Mullins, Charles W. Peck, Thomas
J. Stafford, William H. Stafford, Adam Thompson, Alonzo Thompson,
William I. Wilburn and Isaac Young.
With the exception of company and regimental drill, some picket duty,
and quarter guard, we did little but cook, eat, write letters and
sleep. The weather was hot, the water bad; this, with an overabundance
of rations, and insufficient exercise--in fact, a life of almost entire
inactivity--were the fruitful sources of disease, and many of the men
were sick, a number of them finding their way to the hospital; among
them, Allen C. Pack, Ed Z. Yager, William Sublett, John Henderson,
William Frazier, H. J. Hale, and doubtless others, not now recalled.
Frazier, Henderson, Sublett and Hale died, as did Alonzo Thompson,
whose deaths and loss were much regretted. Strange, yet true, that many
of our strongest men fell victims to disease, while those apparently
much weaker stood the service well.
While on picket duty at Fall's Church, a Captain Farley, with smooth
face, fair skin and blue eyes, claiming to be--and was--a South
Carolinian, and an independent scout, approached our outpost and
proposed that some of the men go with him into the timber in front
of the picket and run the Yankees out. Our boys regarded this as
preposterous, and on went Farley. He had not been in the woods long
till firing began, and he soon returned with blood streaming from his
ear: he had a close call.
During the months of August and September we served on frequent picket
duty at Munson's, Upton's and Mason's hills, and at Annandale. Our
lines were fairly well connected. The enemy, not being able to discover
by their scouts what we were doing--what movements we were making, or
what force we had, resorted to the use of balloons. On one occasion our
people fired at a balloon with cannon shot, and down came the balloon.
A short while after this, the balloon was up again, when our boys
concluded to at least give the man in the basket--Professor Lowe--a
scare; so, rigging up the rear gears of a wagon with a stovepipe, ran
the improvised artillery to the hilltop, in full view of the aeronaut,
pretending to load. The Professor descended quickly, only to appear
again at a safer distance.
On one of our tramps to picket we went to Annandale and remained a day
or so with Captain Harrison's Goochland Dragoons, which did outpost
duty during the day and we at night. We lived largely, while on picket,
on green corn, potatoes, and sometimes other vegetables, a relief from
fresh beef, bacon and hardtack, the regular diet of camp life.
As the enemy perfected his lines, he became bolder, pressing closer.
This led to frequent collisions between the troops on outpost duty.
These conflicts were by general orders discouraged, and called petty
warfare. Nor were these without their casualties--if not caused by the
enemy, sometimes by accident, or mistake--careless handling of firearms
in passing through the brush, carrying of arms at a trail and catching
the hammers against some obstacle. One such accident is recalled by
which a man by the name of Link, of Captain Eggleston's Giles company,
lost his life.
[Illustration: Capt. Robert H. Bane]
During the sojourn at Fairfax, a detachment under Lieutenant Allen, of
the 28th Virginia, was sent to the station on the railway to guard some
baggage and stores deposited there. Of this detachment was John R.
Crawford, of our company, who for true physical courage, bravery and
self-possession, had scarce an equal; indeed, it was often said of him
that he knew no fear--did not know what it meant--never dreamed nor
imagined what danger was; that he felt as much at ease in the storm of
battle as when resting quietly in the camp. The reader doubtless has
heard of the "Louisiana Tigers," who in the first battle of Manassas,
when closing with the enemy, threw down their muskets and rushed upon
the enemy with their bowie-knives. They were a dangerous, blood-thirsty
set--at least so reputed. It was two of these same "Tigers" who found
Crawford on guard over the baggage and stores above referred to, which
they proposed to appropriate. Crawford warned them to stand off and go
away. They paid no heed to the warnings, but persisted in their
purpose. Crawford then reversed his musket and downed the man nearest
to him, who fell trembling and bleeding at his feet; whereupon his
companion quickly advanced to his rescue, but Crawford's belligerent
attitude caused him to beat a hasty retreat.
The Winter of 1861-1862 was spent at Centerville in camp, our quarters
being constructed of log huts with wooden chimneys. The Winter was cold
and dreary, and we had some difficulty in keeping a supply of rations,
which had to be transported from the junction six miles away by wagons
over a road deep in mud and mire.
Owing to the difficulty of distinguishing our Virginia state flag from
many flags of other states carried by the enemy in the battle of
Manassas, whereby we had been threatened with serious consequences,
such as occurred with our own brigade on that field: it became
necessary to have a flag uniform in design for all the Confederate
army. Such a flag was designed by Colonel Miles, of South Carolina, and
presented by General Beauregard to the army. This flag was about
twenty-two inches square, the field red, with blue stripes from corner
to corner at right angles, with thirteen white stars; and was ever
after our battle flag.
Again we were on picket, Crawford on outpost, with instructions to keep
a sharp lookout, as the enemy was near, but not to shoot without
calling "halt" the usual three times, and if no halt made, to shoot.
Shortly after Crawford took post, his cries of "Halt! Halt! Halt!" were
heard, and bang! went his gun. The corporal ran to see what was the
matter: he found Crawford standing quietly at his post as if nothing
had happened--a stray fat hog had wandered to the post and had not
halted at Crawford's command, consequently was dead. Crawford's only
explanation was, "I obeyed orders." The hog was roasted, with many
compliments for Crawford, and all had a feast.
Chapter IX
Our Daily Duties.
In Camp.
Among the Last Rencounters.
Lieutenant Gibson, Corporal Stone and Others Hold a Council of War and
Determine to Advance and Drive McClellan from Arlington Heights.
March to the Outposts.
Graybacks.
Religious Exercises.
Incidents of Camp.
Depletion of the Army.
Re-enlistments and Furloughs.
Retreat from Manassas Behind the Rappahannock.
Albert and Snidow.
Gordonsville.
Our duties in camp during the Winter were not onerous, save quarter
guard in inclement weather, especially rain and extreme cold, for it
will be remembered that we had no shelter on quarter guard post--that
is, none while on post and on the beat, as a guard must always be in
the open, both as to weather and to the foe. The guards were divided
into three reliefs: the first went on at 9 o'clock A.M., the second at
11, the third at 1. This order was observed during the twenty-four
hours. When off post we were required to remain at the guard house,
unless by special permission of the officer of the guard. The quarter
guard were supposed to be the special custodians of the quiet and
safety of the camp. The mode of placing guard on post was as follows: A
sergeant or corporal commenced at the top of the roll, the number of
men being equal to the number of posts. Beginning with post number one,
we marched around the entire camp, relieving each sentinel with a new
man. When this was to be performed at night, the countersign (a pass
word adopted at army headquarters and transmitted to the various
subordinates) was delivered in a whisper to the guards by the officers
thereof, so that as the sergeant with the relief guard approached the
sentry, he was required to halt and give the countersign.
Colonel Kemper, still a member of the General Assembly of Virginia, was
absent for the greater part of the Winter. Lieutenant-Colonel L. B.
Williams, a rigid disciplinarian, who was left in command, endeavored
by watchfulness, to have everything done in strict military style;
frequently visiting the guard house, having the officer turn out the
guard, call the roll, and woe to the man absent or out of line when his
name was called. Punishment was sure to follow in the way of double
duty or otherwise. On one occasion Lieutenant Anderson and W. H.
Layton, having both imbibed too freely, took a jaunt to the guard
house, where they had no business, and here Colonel Williams, on one of
his visits, found them. Layton was placed in the guard house and the
lieutenant in arrest.
During this stay in Winter quarters, Privates Mays, Farley, Thompson
and John W. East had an altercation, the last (save two) which occurred
in the company. It was not an uncommon thing for the soldiers to
discuss the conduct of the war, the remissness and failure of
commanders, the probabilities and improbabilities of success, peace,
the plan of battles, and the war policy, offensive and defensive. A
discussion of this kind is well remembered as having occurred between
Lieutenant Gibson, then officer of the day; Corporal Stone, Sergeant
Peters, Sarver, Hare and others, in the quarters of my mess, while
at Centerville. It was at night; the boys had gotten in a little
stimulant. Lieutenant Gibson dropped in, and with the others, imbibing
freely, began in a very serious way the discussion of the surest and
quickest way or mode of ending the war, and restoring peace to our
distracted country. After much discussion pro and con, which lasted
practically throughout the night, Corporal Stone submitted a plan to
which all readily assented, and which was as follows: To "attack
immediately General McClellan's army, drive it from Arlington Heights,
capture the Federal capital, then propose an armistice and congress
of the states." Stone was for starting that night, for prompt and
aggressive action, but Peters favored postponement until morning, which
was by this time at hand. Just then the long roll sounded to arms, and
a march toward Washington, sure enough, began, but with only our
regiment. And, oh! such headaches as Stone, Peters, Gibson and the
others in the war council had, and how formidable and impregnable now
appeared Arlington, which a few hours before was to them but a mole
hill. Our mission was to relieve a Louisiana regiment then on picket
near Fairfax, where we remained for a week, occupying the quarters just
vacated by the Louisianians. Here it was that we formed our first
acquaintance with the "graybacks," which filled our clothing and
blankets, much to our discomfort. Oh! the digging under the shirt
collar, under the arm pits, and every point where the cruel pest found
the flesh of the poor soldier. It was a difficult matter to rid
ourselves of them--they seemed over anxious to remain with us. Nothing
short of boiling them hard in water got rid of them. The next Summer on
the peninsula, in the swamps of the Chickahominy, and around Richmond,
we had them in abundance, the boys often saying that they had stamped
upon their backs the letters, "I.F.W.," which, interpreted, meant "In
for the war."
During our stay in Winter quarters at Centerville, there was little, if
any, preaching or religious exercises, as there was no place to have
public services, and the weather was too severe to hold services in the
open. The mess of J. Tyler Frazier, in which were Thomas S. Taylor,
James B. Henderson, F. H. Farley, John F. Jones, William C. Fortner,
Joseph Eggleston, James Eggleston, and perhaps others, never neglected
their religious duties, and in quarters invariably read a chapter of
the Bible, sang a hymn, and prayed before retiring at night. These men,
by their upright conduct, observance of their religious duties, their
Christian character and conversation, had great influence over their
comrades, and especially upon the conduct and morals of the company.
The expiration of the term of service, twelve months, of most of the
men was rapidly approaching; the ranks having been much depleted by
sickness, death and other causes. No adequate provision had yet been
made for the retention of those already in the field, or for the
filling of the ranks. It was evident that if the war was to be
prolonged, and the contest maintained, we must have an army. With one
year's service many were satisfied; the fever had worn off, enthusiasm
was on the wane. The government, to induce re-enlistment, was offering
fifty dollars bounty and thirty-day furlough. Quite a number availed
themselves of an opportunity to go home by accepting the bounty and
re-enlisting. Some eighteen of Company D took advantage of the offer,
among them E. M. Stone, John D. Hare, J. W. Mullins, A. L. Fry, J. W.
Hight, John W. East, R. H. Bane, J. B. Young, Tom Young, W. H. Layton,
Tom Davenport, John Palmer, and the writer. Tom Young, Davenport,
Layton and Palmer never returned--deserted.
On our return to the army we were accompanied by Christian Minnich, who
enlisted in the company, having two sons therein. The question of
re-enlistment was soon settled by an act of Congress, which placed
every man in the Confederate states between the ages of 18 and 35 in
the army for three years, or until the close of the war, retaining all
that were under 18 and over 45 for ninety days, continuing the
organizations then existing, with the right to elect regimental and
company officers.
March 1, or thereabouts, in 1862, the enemy began to push his lines
closer up, and to make more frequent reconnaissances, and to extend his
lines toward Aquia Creek on the Potomac, on the right flank of the
Confederate army, causing our commander uneasiness, no doubt, as to the
tenableness of our position, and hence on or about the 10th of the
month orders were issued to cook rations, and be prepared to march. The
movement began three days later, with the head of the column directed
toward Warrenton and the Rappahannock River, which was crossed the
second or third day. At Centerville we left burning immense quantities
of provisions and army supplies, of which later we stood in dire need,
the inadequacy of transportation being the excuse for the destruction.
At a point either in Culpeper or Rappahannock, near where we one night
encamped, was a distillery, of which some of our men took possession,
procuring Old Man Riley Albert to make a run of applejack, with which
they tanked up, then filled their canteens, with no way to transport
the residue. Harry Snidow and others from a nearby store procured jars,
with which they trudged along until the jars were emptied. No one was
drunk, but the boys were happy and jolly.
Gordonsville, in Orange County, near the junction of what was then the
Central and Orange and Alexandria railroad, was reached, where we went
into camp.
Chapter X
The Stay Near Gordonsville.
The March to Richmond and Journey to Yorktown.
In the Trenches.
Skirmishing and Night Alarms.
Reorganization.
The Retreat from Yorktown.
The Old Lady's Prayer.
Battle of Williamsburg.
The Killed and Wounded.
Forces and Numbers Engaged and Losses.
Retreat up the Peninsula.
Battle of Seven Pines.
Casualties.
Our stay in the vicinity of Gordonsville was of short duration--only
for a few days--for on or about April 1 we set out for Richmond,
distant about seventy-five miles. The route taken lay through the
counties of Louisa, Hanover and Henrico, a low, flat, swampy territory,
and in March and April knee deep in mud. The people along this march
were unaccustomed to seeing large bodies of armed men marching. The
negroes, especially, gazed upon us with seeming astonishment. How long
we were making this march to the capital city is not now recollected,
but as we carried heavy burdens at that day, it is probable we did not
reach Richmond before the 8th or 9th of April.
On the 10th of the month last mentioned, the 7th regiment left Richmond
aboard a steamer on the James River, disembarking at King's Landing,
ten miles from Yorktown, inland, whither we marched the evening of our
debarkation. We took position in and near the trenches for the purpose
of preventing the Federal army from marching up the peninsula. Now and
then a brisk skirmish would occur on some part of the lines, scarcely a
night passing without picket firing and alarms; one of which occurred
during a heavy rainstorm, in which the men stood to their guns
throughout the night and were thoroughly drenched by the rain.
The time for reorganization of the army had arrived, and this was
accomplished quietly on Saturday, April 26, 1862, in the face of the
enemy. Before giving in detail the result of the reorganization, I will
state that a very decided change had taken place among the men as to
their estimates of the character and ability of their officers, field
and company. Many were moved by their dislikes and prejudices,
engendered by contact in their first year's service, against officers
who had endeavored to enforce obedience and strict military discipline,
prompted by no other motive than the good of the service; yet these
acts, done in accordance with military law, and inspired by patriotism,
were often misconstrued by men born freemen, wholly unaccustomed to
having restraints placed upon their personal liberty; such acts, the
exercise of such authority, being regarded by our volunteer citizen
soldiery as tyrannical. Consequently those who had been foremost in
rushing to the country's rescue in the early days of her peril, bravely
leading their men to the forefront of the battle, were displaced, to
the detriment of the service; but patriotic and good men are oftentimes
only human. The organization was, however, effected apparently without
injury to the public service.
Captain James H. French, of my company, was taken sick on the march
from the Rappahannock, and was left in Richmond; consequently he was
not present at the reorganization, and perhaps was not a candidate for
re-election. Had he been present and a candidate, it is more than
probable he would have been again chosen captain without opposition, as
no one could have had any personal grievance against him. He had proven
himself a man of unflinching courage, and as much in this respect could
be said of the other company officers. Save one, Lieutenant Joel
Blackard, all were displaced. Blackard, in the reorganization, was
elected captain; Sergeant R. H. Bane, first lieutenant; Orderly
Sergeant John W. Mullins, second lieutenant; Corporal E. M. Stone,
third lieutenant. The non-commissioned officers elected were: A. L.
Fry, first sergeant; W. H. H. Snidow, second sergeant; William D.
Peters, third sergeant; Joseph C. Shannon, fourth sergeant; this
scribe, fifth sergeant; A. J. Thompson, first corporal; Daniel Bish,
second corporal; George C. Mullins, third corporal, and J. B. Young,
fourth corporal.
Comment as to the choice of the men will not here be made, nor the
character of the new officers, as ample opportunity will be afforded in
these pages to judge their conduct. It suffices to say now that the
company had no cause for regret.
Of the regimental officers, Colonel James L. Kemper was chosen to
succeed himself; Major W. T. Patton was elected lieutenant-colonel;
Adjutant C. C. Flowerree, major; Lieutenant Starke was appointed
adjutant; George S. Tansill, sergeant-major. Dr. C. B. Morton was
regimental surgeon, with Dr. Oliver assistant, and upon the promotion
of Dr. Morton to brigade surgeon, Dr. Oliver became regimental surgeon,
with Dr. Worthington as assistant.
As recollected, Company H, from the District of Columbia, having served
its one year, for which it had enlisted, disbanded shortly after
reorganization.
Lieutenant-Colonel Lewis B. Williams, than whom no braver man wore the
gray, was elected colonel of the 1st Virginia regiment. Prior to the
battles of Bull Run and Manassas, the 7th regiment had been brigaded
with the 24th Virginia and 7th Louisiana, under Colonel J. A. Early.
After these battles, we were commanded by General Ewell. Subsequently,
the 1st, 7th, 11th and 17th Virginia regiments formed General
Longstreet's brigade. On reaching Yorktown, Brigadier-General A. P.
Hill became our brigade commander, General Longstreet having been made
a major-general, to whose division our brigade was attached.
At this juncture we were still at Yorktown, with the enemy bold and
threatening in our front. It was evident, therefore, that a collision
was imminent, either where we were or near by. The order came to move
on Saturday evening, May 3. We were soon on the road, in the mud,
floundering and pushing toward Williamsburg, about twelve miles
distant, reaching there early next morning, after an all night march.
The command halted in front of the grounds of the Eastern Hospital for
the Insane. The enemy, evidently determined we should not get away
without trouble, followed closely, skirmishing briskly with the rear
guard, which was continued throughout the afternoon. Then came the
monotonous standing in line of battle from early dawn till near
midday--a thing that always tries the patience of a soldier. The
booming of artillery, and the rattling of small arms could be
distinctly heard. As we passed over the street leading to William and
Mary College, an elderly lady appeared on her porch, with clasped hands
and eyes lifted heavenward, uttering for us, in simple, pathetic tones,
a prayer to God for the protection of our lives in the coming conflict.
Beyond the College the column filed to the right into an open field,
piled baggage, and then in battle line moved forward into the timber,
receiving as we entered therein a shower of balls at close range,
wounding a number of men. This onslaught was answered by a charge from
us, which broke up the lines of the enemy, consisting in part of New
York regiments, and drove him for more than a half mile through the
woods into a body of fallen timber, in which was encountered a fresh
line of battle. Some doubt at first existed as to who these people
were. This was settled by the unfurling of their flag. At close
quarters, the fight was desperate for more than two hours, in which our
ammunition was expended, when General A. P. Hill ordered a charge with
fixed bayonets, upon which the enemy (New Jersey men) were driven from
the field; for a hand-to-hand charge is something fearful to
contemplate. Being relieved by other troops, Hill's brigade retired to
the line from which it had moved in the charge, from whence we withdrew
during the night, continuing the retreat; for it will be remembered
that the task in hand for us was the holding in check of the enemy--a
force vastly superior to our own. In this day's work I fired 36
charges, by which my shoulder was pounded so that it was for a time
completely disabled. This battle was fought for a safe retreat for our
trains and for the army, and accomplished this purpose. We had beaten
the enemy in our center, and on the right wing, while a portion, two
regiments, of General Early's brigade had been repulsed by General
Hancock's Federal brigade.
The forces engaged were, as stated by General Longstreet: Federals,
12,000; Confederates, 9,000. The casualties: Federal, 2,288;
Confederate, 1,565. This engagement was called the Battle of
Williamsburg, and will be remembered by the survivors whose eyes
may fall upon these lines.
In Hill's brigade the loss was 326, of which 67 were killed, 245
wounded, 14 missing. The 7th Virginia lost 13 killed, 64 wounded,
aggregate 77. In Company D, of the 7th Virginia, the loss was one
killed, 14 wounded, as follows: Killed, William H. Stafford; wounded,
Lieutenant E. M. Stone, and the following men of the line: Allen M.
Bane, Charles W. Peck, Andrew J. Thompson, John A. Hale, John W. East,
Isaac Hare, George Knoll, Anderson Meadows, Demarcus Sarver, William
I. Wilburn, Edward Z. Yager, John Meadows, and the writer--who knows
what it is to have a hot buckshot in his hand. Baldwin L. Hoge had
the belt of his cartridge box severed and cut from the belt; several
of the men had holes shot through their clothing. Sergeant Tapley P.
Mays, of Company D, the ensign of the regiment, who bore the flag
aloft throughout the battle, had the staff severed three times and
the flag pierced by twenty-three balls, Mays escaping unscathed. For
his gallant conduct on this field, he received the thanks of the
commandant of the regiment, and his conduct was made the subject
matter of a complimentary letter to him from the Governor of the
state, promising that he should receive a fine sword for his gallant
conduct.
The mud was deep, the movement slow, and when morning dawned we were
only a few miles from the battlefield, halting occasionally in battle
line in order to hold the enemy in check until our long train of wagons
and artillery could get away. It must not be supposed that because we
were wearied, covered with mud and hungry, that we were dispirited and
gloomy. Such mental conditions could not then well exist among such a
jolly set of fellows, for we had in each company one or more who would
have their amusement, in a joke, a laugh, or a song, especially Bolton
and George Knoll (the Dutchman), who were clownish and full of fun. In
passing along the roads and through the towns and villages, if a
citizen with a high silk hat appeared, these clowns would call out:
"Mister, come out of that hat; I know you are in there, for I see your
feet!" Another would likely call out: "Mister, my bees are swarming;
lend me your hat to hive them in." They sometimes ran across a man with
high top boots. Then it was: "Come out of them boots! I know you are in
them, for I see your head above." Occasionally they were paid back in
their own coin. An old preacher, white-haired, with long white flowing
beard, one day rode into camp, when one of these wags called out:
"Boys, here is old Father Abraham," whereupon the old preacher said:
"Young men, you are mistaken. I am Saul, the son of Kish, searching for
his father's asses, and I have found them." The preacher had won, and
nobody enjoyed the joke better than the fellows who had been beaten at
their own game.
The Chickahominy was crossed by our troops May 9, when we went into
camp at Clark's farm, and later near Howard's Grove, on higher and
dryer ground, with better water. Here inactivity and hot weather
brought on much sickness. It was from this camp that A. L. Sumner of
Company D took "French furlough"--went without leave, to see his
family, was arrested, brought back, courtmartialed, and sentenced
for a term to Castle Thunder, a Confederate prison in Richmond for
Confederate delinquents. On his return he made up for his delinquency.
A. L. Fry, orderly-sergeant, was summoned as a witness against Sumner
at his trial, and was thereby absent at the battle of Frazier's farm.
For several days preceding the 30th day of May, 1862, the weather had
been very sultry, and during the night of that day there broke over the
camp a violent electric storm, accompanied by a heavy downpour of rain,
which flooded the quarters and submerged everything on the ground
within the tents, compelling the men to stand on their feet for hours.
The vivid flashes of electricity, the fearful peals of thunder,
reminded one of the progress of a mighty battle, and was a fitting
precursor of the morrow's bloody day.
At daylight, Saturday, May 31, came the order to march. Although we
knew the enemy was in close proximity to Richmond and extending his
lines closer, with the intention of investing the city, yet we were at
a loss to determine where we were going, as we had not received orders
to be ready to move. Much difficulty was encountered in crossing the
small branches, which had overflowed their banks, but we finally made
our way into the Williamsburg road, learning on the way from parties
coming from the front that a battle was imminent. Hurrying forward at
quickstep, turning to the right from the Williamsburg road, we found
ourselves in line of battle on the edge of a swamp in a wood, where
we remained until about 1 P.M., hearing the boom of cannon, and
indistinctly the rattle of musketry, apparently far to our left. Not
long after the hour mentioned, we were hurried away to the left to
Seven Pines, where we soon found ourselves face to face with the enemy,
in part the Federal division of General Silas Casey, whose earthworks
and camp we carried, including some of his artillery. The forces
engaged, as given by General Longstreet in his "Manassas to
Appomattox," were: Union troops, 18,500; Confederates, 14,600; Union
losses, 5,031; Confederate, 4,798. This engagement was called by the
Confederates the Battle of Seven Pines.
I have not been able to secure my brigade or regimental loss but my
company loss was: A. D. Manning, killed; Sergeant E. R. Walker,
Privates Travis Burton, John W. Hight and Joseph Lewy, wounded. Our
ensign, Mays, acted with his usual gallantry.
The right wing of the Confederate army, under General Longstreet, had
defeated the left wing of the Union army, captured its intrenchments,
guns and camp, and driven it for quite a distance, but the Confederate
left wing had not been so fortunate as the right. In this battle, after
we had broken General Casey's lines, some Union sharpshooters took
cover in the swamp in our front, one of whom at about seventy-five
yards fired at me, the ball grazing my cap.
A short time previous to the Battle of Seven Pines, our
brigadier-general, A. P. Hill, had been made major-general. Colonel
Kemper had been promoted to brigadier-general and was in command of
the brigade during the above-mentioned engagement. General Joseph E.
Johnston, commanding the Confederate army in this battle, was badly
wounded, and General Robert E. Lee was appointed to succeed him in
the command.
We left the battleground, as now recalled, on June 2, returning to
camp, a few days after which the 24th Virginia regiment, which had been
with Early's, then with Garland's brigade, was united with ours--now
composed of the 1st, 7th, 11th, 17th and 24th Virginia regiments.
Chapter XI
Preparations for Active Field Service.
Dress Parade and Speeches of General Kemper and Colonel Patton.
Battles Around Richmond.
Gaines' Mill or Cold Harbor.
Frazier's Farm and Malvern Hill.
Testing a Man's Courage.
Casualties.
In Pursuit of the Enemy.
In Camp Near the Chickahominy.
Sickness and Death.
Threatening Attitude of the Enemy in Northern Virginia.
Concentration of the Confederate Army on the Rappahannock.
Pope's Bravado.
Lieutenant Hugh M. Patton Succeeds Stark as Adjutant, and Sergeant
Parke Appointed Sergeant-Major, Succeeding George S. Tansill.
Following the Battle of Seven Pines, and the period preceding the
opening of the battles around Richmond, at Mechanicsville on June 26,
all were engaged in drilling and gathering in absentees. Muskets were
put in order, cartridge boxes, bayonets and gun straps were issued.
Inspection of arms and accouterments, and dress parades were frequent,
and the word went from lip to lip that something was up, that all this
preparation meant business, and that right early.
Rations were cooked and distributed on Wednesday, June 25, and
everything put in shape to move on short notice. Being on parade on
the evening of the day last referred to, General Kemper and Colonel
Patton made soul-stirring speeches, telling us that the great battle
of the revolution was now to be fought, and if we were successful the
Confederacy would be a free country, and we would all go home together;
if beaten, the war must be prolonged for years.
Leaving camp in the early morning of the 26th, we marched in the
direction of Mechanicsville bridge, on the Chickahominy, halting a
short distance from the bridge under cover of timber on the roadside,
from which we could, late in the afternoon, hear the roar of the battle
at Mechanicsville beyond the river, then being fought by the
Confederate division of General A. P. Hill and the Federal corps of
Porter. As the darkness came on the flash of their guns could be seen
distinctly, the battle continuing until nearly 9 o'clock. At dawn the
firing across the river was renewed, continuing for a time. The
movement of our force was then made across the bridge, following the
track of the retreating foe, whose course was marked by the destruction
of commissary stores. Reaching the vicinity of Gaines' Mill at noon, a
line of battle was formed behind and near the crest of a low range of
hills, hiding us from the view of the enemy. In our immediate front
were the brigades of Pickett, Wilcox and Pryor, who were to lead the
assault on our part of the line, with our brigade in support. Near the
middle of the afternoon the battle opened with fury, raging with
varying fortune until nearly dark, when our troops broke over the Union
lines, forcing their men from the field: a victory dearly bought.
Kemper's brigade was not called into action, though lying under fearful
shelling, but fortunately we were just near enough the crest of the
ridge to avoid the shells, which passed in most part over us. We
suffered but little if any loss.
The Federals engaged in this battle numbered about 35,000; their loss
in killed, wounded and missing, 7,000, besides twenty-two pieces of
artillery which fell into our hands. The Confederates no doubt had the
larger number engaged, and their casualties were, therefore, greater,
but seem not to have been reported.
Next morning we marched over the field on which the Confederate
brigades of Wilcox, Pickett and Pryor, with others, had made heroic
fight, and it is almost incredible that a single line of Confederates
should have forced their way in the face of the murderous fire they
met, over such a position, which was to all appearances impregnable,
and certainly was, except as against men fighting for homes, firesides,
and principles which they regarded as dearer than life.
We occupied the field Saturday, in a position to make or to receive an
attack, but the enemy was in no plight--in fact, in no mood, to attack
us, but on the contrary was making for the James River, though we did
not then know it. Our officers did not seem to know with certainty what
direction the enemy was taking, as his movement was well masked. It
seems to have been discovered late on the evening of Saturday, the
28th, or early on Sunday morning, the 29th, that General McClellan,
with his army, was making for the shelter of the Union naval fleet on
the James, and such being the understanding, Longstreet's and A. P.
Hill's divisions at an early hour on Sunday morning were pushed across
the Chickahominy via New Bridge, and to the Darbytown road, to
intercept the retreat. The day was warm, the roads dusty, and the march
fatiguing, especially as it was rapid for fifteen or eighteen miles.
Pushing ahead early the next day, Monday, June 30, the enemy was
encountered about noon. The skirmishers were soon engaged, but the
advance of our troops did not begin until about 4 o'clock P.M., and
after we had suffered for two or more hours from a severe shelling.
While under this severe fire and in line in the woods, in a swamp
amidst brambles and vines, a shell from one of the enemy's guns burst
immediately in our front and only a few feet away, scattering the
fragments and shrapnel in our midst, one of which struck a man close by
me, burying itself in a testament in his breast pocket, which thus
saved his life.
[Illustration: Lieut. Elisha M. Stone]
The point where the encounter took place was known locally as Frazier's
farm. The only Confederate troops engaged were the two divisions above
mentioned, which had been sorely reduced by the casualties at Seven
Pines, Mechanicsville and Gaines' Mill, as well as by sickness, the
exhaustion of a rapid march, and by straggling, to about 12,000 men.
These were pitted against the main body of the Union army.
From the firing we had every reason to believe that the enemy was close
at hand in large numbers, seemingly not distant more than half a mile.
The advance of our forces was through a dense wood, tangled underbrush
filled with brambles, and partly covered by water, with no possibility
of keeping the men up to their places, the stronger ones pushing
through over the obstacles, while many of the weaker, unable to keep
pace, were left behind. Kemper's brigade was leading and his advance
soon became a charge, the enemy being posted on the farther side of an
open field. Some of the line officers implored the regimental commander
to halt long enough to get the men in order and close the ranks, but
the officer cried out: "Forward! Forward!" and on rushed the men, every
man his own general, which they usually were in making such a charge.
In a fierce battle a man's courage is severely tested. Here our
regiment is in battle line on the edge of a wood; less than a quarter
of a mile in front is another wood, sheltering the enemy; between the
opposing forces is an open field; the regiment is advancing and the
lines move out into the clear sunlight. Men will hurriedly reason with
themselves: "The enemy is posted in that timber across the field;
before we move many yards he will open on us with shot and shell; this
is perhaps my last day on earth." So each man reasons, but every face
is sternly set to the front and not a man falters. The shell and shot
blow dozens to gory fragments, but the line does not halt, the living
saying to themselves: "The fire will presently change to cannister,
then I shall certainly be struck." The prediction is being verified,
gaps are opened through the ranks, only to be closed again; the
regiment has lost its adhesion and marching step, its lines are no
longer perfect, but the movement is still onward. From knowledge of
methods in battle, our men suppose the infantry is in support of the
battery. We have escaped shell and cannister, but when we meet the
musketry fire we shall be killed. There is no hanging back, no thought
but to push ahead. The leaden hail now comes and the lines are further
disordered; the left wing has lost its front by quite a distance, but
the push is forward, men grip their guns, their eyes flash, and with a
yell, on to the battery they rush, bayonetting the cannoneers at their
posts. The Federal infantry supports give way precipitately--then
follows that famous bone-searching rebel yell of triumph.
The brigade, led by the brave General Kemper, met a shower of shot,
shell, cannister and storm of leaden bullets; it never faltered, rushed
upon the Union battery--Randol's Pennsylvania--routing its infantry
supports. Here Ensign Mays planted the colors of the 7th regiment on
the Union guns. They were ours, won, however, at fearful cost. The
failure promptly to support our brigade--the enemy flanking us on both
wings--caused General Kemper to order the retirement of the brigade,
now suffering severe loss from the fire of these flanking columns,
which in turn were themselves flanked and defeated by the troops coming
to our support. Such is the fearful game of war with men of the same
valor and blood.
The brigade casualties were 414, of which 44 were killed, 205 wounded
and 165 missing. Regimental loss in the 7th Virginia, 111, of which 14
were killed, 66 wounded and 31 missing. Adjutant E. B. Starke was
killed and Sergeant-Major Tansill severely wounded, disabled for
further service. Sergeant-Major Tansill had been a soldier in our war
with Mexico, and was one of the most efficient, the bravest and best of
our soldiers. The gallant Lieutenant, afterwards Captain James G.
Tansill, of Company E, of the 7th regiment, was the son of
Sergeant-Major Tansill.
The loss in my company was 16. Killed, Captain Joel Blackard; mortally
wounded, Ballard P. Meadows, Lee E. Vass and Joseph Eggleston; the
other wounded were: J. C. Shannon, Daniel Bish, Jesse B. Young, David
C. Akers, H. J. Wilburn, Tim P. Darr, Francis M. Gordon, George A.
Minnich, T. P. Mays, John W. Sarver and Joseph Suthern. Captured, Allen
M. Bane. Ballard P. Meadows was made a prisoner and died in the hands
of the enemy. Upon the fall of the brave and lamented Captain Blackard,
the command of the company devolved upon First Lieutenant Robert H.
Bane, a gallant soldier, and a worthy successor to Captain Blackard.
Second Lieutenant Mullins became first lieutenant; E. M. Stone, second
lieutenant, and Sergeant E. R. Walker was elected second junior
lieutenant.
During that night our troops rested on the field without disturbance
from the enemy, who continued his flank movement, a masterly retreat,
to a position at Malvern Hill, on the banks of the James: a position of
great natural strength, where the entire Union army was concentrated,
supported by the gunboats in the river. The Battle of Malvern Hill did
not begin until the afternoon, but its tide swept to and fro until far
into the night. The divisions of Longstreet and A. P. Hill were held in
reserve, close up, but not called into action, near enough, however, to
be in range of the enemy's artillery and heavy projectiles thrown from
the gunboats, inspiring fear and terror among our men not justified by
their execution. The repeated charges of our troops against the enemy's
stronghold failed to dislodge him. Our men were repulsed; they had
bearded the lion in his den; he refused to yield; he could not afford
to, for if he did he had but one place to go and that was into the
river, or the alternative, of surrendering. In the Battle of Frazier's
Farm the Federals largely outnumbered the Confederates. They lost ten
guns captured by the Confederates, who, when the battle closed, held
the greater part of the field. The Federal General McCall was captured
by the 47th Virginia regiment.
At the opening of the campaign, the Union army numbered 105,000, the
Confederate 80,762--tremendous armies, when we come to think of it. The
losses on each side, up to the Battle of Malvern Hill, in killed and
wounded, were thought to be equal, but in that battle it is stated upon
authority that the Confederate loss was about 5,000 men, the Union loss
about one-third that number. During the Battle of Malvern Hill, Mr.
Davis, President of the Confederate States, was with us in the morning
and under the fire of the gunboats.
It being ascertained that the enemy had retreated during the previous
night, we hastened in pursuit, amidst a heavy rainstorm, and after a
fatiguing, disagreeable, all-day march, found the enemy in a strong
position at Westover, on the James. As he showed no disposition to come
out from his cover, our army, about July 8, reached its camps in the
vicinity of Richmond. It had been a wonderful series of battles.
General McClellan had made a most masterly retreat, escaping from
woeful disaster. It was within the range of probability, in fact,
almost a certainty, that if the Confederate army had been under as good
discipline as it was two years later, the Union army would have been
destroyed or made prisoners. As it was, the Federal loss was nearly
16,000 men and 54 pieces of artillery, while the Confederate loss was
reckoned at about 19,000 men. Richmond had been saved, the enemy driven
far away, General McClellan proving himself better at a retreat than
going the other way.
After the enemy had taken shelter under the protection of his gunboats
at Westover, the Confederate commissariat attempted to reach the large
amount of supplies held by the farmers along the James River. Numerous
wagons were sent under escort to secure these supplies. Our Company D,
going on one of these trips, was attacked by Union gunboats, into which
we fired quite a number of volleys of musketry at close range, being
sheltered by the river bank, and in return received a severe shelling.
A few men were wounded, and I received a shot on the side of the foot,
but not much of a hurt.
From July 8 to August 13, a period of inactivity ensued, and as usual
in that swampy country, with bad water, there was much sickness among
the men. Lewis R. Skeens, of Company D, died in camp and was buried
near by. Charles W. Peck, George W. Akers, William C. Fortner, James B.
Henderson, John R. Crawford, and the writer were taken sick and sent to
hospital at Richmond, where Peck and Akers died. Fortner, Henderson,
Crawford and the writer improved rapidly, and were ready to return to
our command by the middle of August.
General McClellan's Union army was shut up at Westover, and being
depleted by the ravages of sickness and death. This fact, together with
the threatening attitude of a new Federal army in Northern Virginia,
induced General Lee, who now had apparently nothing to fear from
McClellan, to concentrate his army on the Rappahannock, and to that end
about the middle of July had transferred General Jackson and his
command to the Rapidan--which, by the early days of August, was in the
vicinity of the enemy--and closed with him at Cedar Mountain on August
9, forcing the enemy to retire on Culpeper court house.
Longstreet's division left Richmond Wednesday, August 13, for
Gordonsville and the Rapidan, our brigade moving by rail. Learning that
our division was moving, Fortner, Henderson, Crawford and the writer,
the sick bunch above alluded to, applied for discharge from the
hospital, and procured transportation via Lynchburg. Reaching Orange
court house on the 18th, we left the railway, taking the track of the
advancing army. The first day's tramp finished up Fortner and
Henderson, both of whom were still feeble; and it also finished up my
shoes, leaving me barefoot; in fact, had none I could wear until after
our return from Maryland a month later. Leaving Fortner and Henderson
on the road, Crawford and I pushed on, rejoining our command on the
Rappahannock. Fortner overtook us in a few days, and in time to go into
the battle of the 30th, when he received a severe wound. Poor Fortner!
Misfortune seemed now to be his lot, going and coming.
By August 20 the greater part of General Lee's army was on the
Rappahannock, confronting the Union army under General John Pope, on
the opposite bank. Pope, who, it is stated, had said a few days before
in an address to his troops that "his headquarters were in the saddle,
and that he never turned his back upon an enemy nor looked for lines of
retreat"--which statement he later denied--had already run, and was in
a position to have to run again, or at least to get to the rear to look
after his line of retreat.
Longstreet's division on August 21 moved forward to Kelley's ford,
which we left on the 22d, taking position near Beverly's, relieving
some of General Jackson's command, which moved up the Rappahannock.
For three or four days there was considerable skirmishing, with
occasional artillery duels across the river. Again moving on the 24th
to the assistance of Jackson's troops, engaged with the enemy at some
of the upper fords of the Rappahannock, our march was retarded by the
swollen condition of Hazel river and other small tributaries of the
Rappahannock; reaching Jeffersonton that afternoon, during the progress
of a lively cannonade. A halt was made by our division and Jackson's
men moved up the river. Lieut. Hugh M. Patton had been appointed
Adjutant of the seventh regiment, succeeding Adjutant Starke, and
---- Park had been appointed Sergeant Major to succeed George S.
Tansill, disabled and discharged.
Chapter XII
General Jackson With His "Foot Cavalry."
On the Flank and in the Rear of General Pope's Army.
Longstreet's Division Diverting the Enemy's Attention on the
Rappahannock.
March Through Thoroughfare Gap.
Haymarket to the Relief of Jackson's Men.
The Fight on the 29th.
Battle of August 30, 1862.
Kemper Commands Division, Corse Leads the Brigade.
Pope Defeated.
Casualties.
Rainstorm and March Through Leesburg to White's Ford.
Crossing the Potomac.
The Cry "Back to Washington" and not "On to Richmond."
"Maryland, My Maryland," "Bonnie Blue Flag."
Halt at Monocacy Bridge.
General Jackson with his "foot cavalry," as his men were often referred
to, on account of their rapid marches and power of endurance, crossed
the Rappahannock on August 25 and by swift marches placed his command
at Manassas in the rear of General Pope's army, and between it and
Washington--our division (Longstreet's) amusing General Pope on the
Rappahannock by making sortie in order to divert his attention from
General Jackson's movement.
Longstreet's division crossed the river near Amissville on Tuesday, the
26th, reaching Thoroughfare Gap in the afternoon of the 28th; the march
having been somewhat disturbed by a body of the enemy's cavalry. The
enemy held the east side of the Gap in large force. The evening was
spent in reconnoitering, getting into position to carry the Gap. Our
rations consisted of green corn and fresh beef. Numbers of the men were
without shoes, including the writer. Some horses belonging to the
wagons or ambulances broke from their fastenings during the night,
running through the camp and creating quite a stir, as someone called
out, "Yankee Cavalry!" No damage was done, except the loss of an ear by
one man from the stroke of a horse's hoof. The man yelled, "I've got a
one _ear_ furlough."
The Gap next morning was flanked by our troops, the enemy scurrying
away in time to save his face. After clearing the Gap and reaching the
vicinity of the little village of Haymarket, there could be heard
distinctly seven or eight miles away the roar of artillery. The day was
warm, the roads dusty, and the men suffered for water. It was pathetic
to see the boys with feet bare and bleeding endeavoring to keep pace
with their comrades.
A little past noon on the 29th, we arrived in the vicinity of the
battleground, and not long thereafter the roar of battle to our left
informed us that Jackson's men were hotly engaged. Later in the
evening, the brigades of Hood and Evans, of Longstreet's division,
engaged a portion of the enemy, driving him for some distance. The
remainder of our division was in line of battle, prepared to attack, as
we understood, a force of the enemy to the right, should opportunity
offer. Our position was now between the Warrenton pike and Manassas Gap
railway--where we were still subsisting on roasting ears and fresh
beef; no large quantity at that, but the Confederate soldier ever bore
his privations with less complaint than would be supposed by those who
did not know his enthusiasm for cause and country.
On the morning of the 30th, during skirmishing and artillery fire along
the lines, the command to which we belonged moved forward a short
distance, resting near an old rail fence which ran on and along a
narrow country road. All firing ceased about noon, and quiet continued
until about 3 o'clock P.M., when it was broken by the lumbering of
artillery and the crash of small arms. While lying on the road referred
to, A. J. Thompson and John Q. Martin, of Company D, came near having a
serious fight, which was finally terminated by the interference of
Colonel Patton. In a few minutes after this trouble, the battle opened
on the left, rolling towards us. The order came, and the brigade, under
command of Colonel Corse, went forward at double quick, over a field,
through the woods, and into open ground, where the enemy was in line of
battle. The charge of the division under General Kemper, the brigade
under Colonel Corse, was impetuous and most gallant, routing the Union
infantry and capturing a Maine battery and some regimental flags.
General Pope's army was defeated and in retreat. It was now dark. The
forces engaged on the Union side, under General Pope, in this series of
battles around Manassas amounted to 74,578 men; those on the side of
the Confederates, 49,077. The casualties in the Union army were 1,747
killed, 8452 wounded, 4263 missing; aggregate, 14,462. On the side of
the Confederates, 1468 were killed, 7563 wounded, and 81 missing;
aggregate, 9112. Thirty Union field guns were captured by the
Confederates, with 20,000 small arms, including a number of colors.
Our brigade loss was 33 killed, 240 wounded, and one missing;
aggregate, 274. The regimental loss was Col. W. T. Patton, Lieut. Col.
C. C. Flowerree, Major Swinler, Adjutant Patton and Sergt. Major Park,
all of whom were severely wounded, Major Swinler losing a leg, and
Adjutant Patton and Sergt. Major Park being disabled for further
service. The loss including those mentioned was five killed, 48
wounded; aggregate 53.
The loss in my company was 16, equal to about one-third of the
regimental loss: John Q. Martin, killed; wounded, Lieutenant John W.
Mullins and 14 privates, viz: William H. Carr, John S. Dudley, Elbert
S. Eaton, Adam Thompson, William C. Fortner, James H. Fortner, Francis
H. Farley, J. Tyler Frazier, John W. Hight, G. L. Wilburn, H. J.
Wilburn, William I. Wilburn, James J. Nye and Washington R. C. Vass.
The two latter were mortally wounded, Vass dying that night and Nye
a few days thereafter. A. L. Fry had been sent with our wounded
Lieutenant Mullins to Warrenton, and was there captured by the enemy
after the army had crossed the Potomac.
I must speak here of some little incidents in connection with this
battle which I think worthy of notice. The advance of the brigade in
the charge encountered a rail fence, a short distance beyond which was
the enemy's battery, and its battle line of infantry supports. When
near the fence, fearless Lieutenant-Colonel Flowerree--a mere boy,
scarcely 21 years of age--shouted: "Up to the fence, 7th regiment, and
give them h--l!"
In closing on the battery, the man at the breach was in the act of
firing, when bold Ike Hare, of my company, directly in front of the
guns, cried out, "Fire!" Whiz! went the ball over the heads of the men,
who the next moment, with Colonel Skinner of the First Virginia
regiment, were among the cannoneers, the Colonel, with heavy sabre in
hand, cutting right and left, receiving a wound in the encounter which
retired him from the service.
I went out to help gather up the wounded, and to get me a pair of
trousers and shoes, both of which I had need of, and which I procured,
selecting a dead Union soldier about my size. His shoes I could not
wear, as they were too small, and I gave them to a comrade; and I
almost regretted having put on his trousers, for they were inhabited by
the same sort of graybacks common to the Confederate and Union
soldiers. After more than 50 years the thought of this wretched
parasite makes my flesh itch. But these pests were unavoidable to
soldiers continually on the march through mud, mire, and over dusty
roads, without opportunity to cleanse their clothes or make a change
thereof, and this was particularly so with the Confederate soldier, who
seldom had, or could procure a change of raiment.
In front of our regiment fell mortally wounded Colonel Fletcher
Webster, of Massachusetts, the only son of Daniel Webster, where he lay
until next day.
As was usual following the great battles of our war, there came down
that night, and continuing the most of the next two days, a heavy
downpour of rain; a great blessing to the wounded, who needed the
cooler temperature, as some relief at least from the warm and
oppressive heat.
Our time on Sunday was occupied in burying the dead and caring for the
wounded, then being relieved by others. On Monday, September 1,
followed the command of General Jackson to Chantilly, where he had a
heavy engagement with the enemy. From here we marched on the 3d, 4th
and 5th, passing through Leesburg and to White's Ford on the Potomac
River, where camp was made on the evening of the 5th.
At Leesburg an order came for all sick and shoeless men to remain
there: an unfortunate order, in some respects, as it was construed by a
great many of the men to mean just anyone who did not want to go over
the river into Maryland. There had already been large depletion of the
ranks, after leaving Richmond, caused by straggling--partly by shoeless
and sick men, and partly, doubtless, from other causes. Rapid marching
and insufficient, indifferent, or no food, had much to do with the
straggling. Judging other commands by my own, I can state that much too
large a number of men remained at Leesburg, stretching the pretext
to cover far more than was intended by the order. But when it is
remembered that the army within a period of ninety days had fought not
less than eleven pitched battles, sustaining losses in the aggregate of
fully thirty-five thousand men, and that in addition to this they had
engaged in many skirmishes, in which numbers of men were lost, and that
the use of bad water and bad or insufficient food had depleted the
ranks by thousands; and again, further considering that a large portion
of the army had marched from Richmond to the Potomac, hundreds shoeless
and more becoming so--it is not strange there were so many stragglers,
sick and barefooted men. They amounted to probably 20,000. I think a
great many remained at Leesburg who were not sick or barefoot, because
of their aversion to fighting beyond Virginia territory, north of the
Potomac. In one or more of these things enumerated, I may say thousands
of men found excuses, or made them, to fall out of ranks along the line
of march, finally to halt at Leesburg--men whose help was sorely needed
at Sharpsburg.
The Potomac River was forded on the morning of September 6, amid the
singing of "Maryland, My Maryland," and the shouts and cheering of the
men. "Back to Washington," the cry, instead of "On to Richmond," which
we had heard from our foes. Winchester was made the rendezvous for all
the sick, lame, shoeless and others who remained as we passed Leesburg.
That night we camped at a little village, or crossroad hamlet, I think
called Buckeystown. Next day, the 7th, a halt was made at the railway
bridge over the Monocacy, two miles or more from Frederick, Maryland.
Many of the shoeless, and others too plucky to remain at Leesburg,
still kept their places with their comrades, following the fortunes of
the army throughout the campaign. I was one of the number that made
this tramp with bare feet.
Chapter XIII
A Soldier's Equipment.
Washing His Clothes.
How He Ate and Slept.
March Through Frederick.
Middletown.
Hagerstown.
A Soldier in Active Service in the Field.
What He Possesses.
Indications of Southern Sympathy.
The Return from Hagerstown.
Battle of Boonsboro and Casualties.
Retreat to Sharpsburg and Battle.
Thirteen Days in Maryland.
Back in Virginia.
A Musket, cartridge box with forty rounds of cartridges, cloth
haversack, blanket and canteen made up the Confederate soldier's
equipment. No man was allowed a change of clothing, nor could he have
carried it. A gray cap, jacket, trousers and colored shirt--calico
mostly--made up a private's wardrobe. When a clean shirt became
necessary, we took off the soiled one, went to the water, usually
without soap, gave it a little rubbing, and if the sun was shining,
hung the shirt on a bush to dry, while the wearer sought the shade to
give the shirt a chance. The method of carrying our few assets was to
roll them in a blanket, tying each end of the roll, which was then
swung over the shoulder. At night this blanket was unrolled and wrapped
around its owner, who found a place on the ground with his cartridge
box for a pillow. We cooked but little, having usually little to cook.
The frying pan was in use, if we had one.
We remained three days at Monocacy, during which time the bridge was
destroyed by our engineers. The morning of Wednesday, September 10, our
division marched through Frederick, Middletown, Boonsboro, and to
Hagerstown, reaching the latter place the evening of the 11th, and
going into camp half a mile to the south of the town. Subsistence was
still a pressing need, green corn and fresh beef becoming monotonous.
In Frederick our hearts were made glad by unmistakable signs of
friendship and sympathy. A bevy of pretty girls, singing "Maryland, My
Maryland," on seeing our battle flag inscribed "Seven Pines," proposed
"three cheers for the battle flag of Seven Pines," which were heartily
and lustily given by us. In Middletown we met no smiles, but a decided
Union sentiment was in evidence. In Hagerstown we observed indications
and heard some expressions of Southern sentiment, but none that
satisfied us that they were ready and willing to shed their blood for
the Southern cause.
The troops of Stonewall Jackson, together with those of McLaws and
Walker, were now rapidly moving to invest and capture the Union
garrison of some 13,000 men, at Harper's Ferry. During the march from
Frederick, the Confederate rear was protected by a cavalry force under
General Stuart, and infantry under General D. H. Hill. In the wake of
this rear guard, following leisurely was the Union army under General
McClellan, quite a hundred thousand strong, including a powerful
artillery of 300 guns.
On Sunday, just before noon of the 14th, the long roll sounded calling
the men into line, and a quick movement was made east in the direction
of Boonsboro and Turner's Gap. Wagons, artillery and ambulances cleared
the road, giving us the right of way. At Hagerstown was left General
Toombs' Georgia brigade, and one regiment of G. T. Anderson's to watch
a Federal gathering force just across the Maryland line. The day was
hot, the road hard and dusty, the march rapid--so much so that many of
the men broke down, falling by the wayside. The emergency demanded the
presence of our division on the field of battle, which we knew, having
learned on our way that General Hill's division had been attacked at
Turner's Gap beyond Boonsboro by a largely superior force, perhaps by
the larger part of General McClellan's Union army. Let it now be
remembered that this army made fourteen miles to the immediate vicinity
of the battleground in three and a half hours--good time for a
Hamiltonian horse. Now with other troops we were hurried up the
mountain to the right of the main gap (Turner's), and after getting
near the firing line, and finding Confederate troops there holding the
enemy in steady fight, our steps were retraced to the Gap. From thence
we were ordered to the left, climbing the mountain side in full view of
the enemy to our right, and in range of one of his batteries on a
plateau to our right rear, which threw shot and shell thick and fast,
striking the head of the leading company of my regiment and killing one
man instantly. On reaching the crest of the mountain we found ourselves
face to face with the enemy and close up to them, and under fire before
we were able to get into formation. The brigades of Rodes and Evans on
the left were engaged in strong combat with the force in their front,
and as soon as Garnett's and Jenkins' brigades filled the space on the
right and connected with Colquit's Georgia brigade, which was astride
the turnpike, the fighting along the line became general and fierce, as
much so as brave men on both sides could make it.
The writer's brigade was now in a body of open timber, among
stones--large boulders, with some fallen timber along the line, behind
which, lying down, the men took shelter as best they could; the enemy
occupying a skirt of woods with a strip of open land between their
position and ours. For two or more hours the battle raged, or until
darkness fell, the enemy making repeated but unsuccessful efforts to
dislodge our men. The firing having ceased, there was heard in our
front the tramp of the enemy's feet, evidently preparing to renew the
assault. In a few minutes, a few yards to the right, in which lay a
portion of the brigade in the edge of a field, where at the beginning
of the battle was standing corn (now cut to the ground) came the sound
of a voice, "There they are, men! Fire on them!" Suddenly came a sheet
of flame with a deafening crash from the guns of each of the
combatants, plainly disclosing them to be within a few feet of each
other. The flame from the respective muskets seemed to intermingle. The
well-directed fire of the Confederates caused confusion in the enemy's
ranks and compelled them to retire. Among the casualties on our side
from this encounter was Adjutant John W. Daniel of the 11th Virginia,
who received a severe wound in the hand. This same Daniel served with
distinction in the United States Senate, dying a year or so ago. Such
was the character of many a noble man engaged in this horrid game of
death.
It was now 9 o'clock or after and intensely dark, especially in the
timber where we were. Wounded comrades had to be removed and cared for;
this had to be done quietly, as the enemy was in whispering distance.
As heretofore stated, Company D of the 7th Virginia carried into the
battle of Second Manassas forty men, of which sixteen were killed and
wounded, leaving twenty-four, including commissioned officers. After
crossing the Potomac and on entering the battle at Boonsboro Gap, we
had twenty-one commissioned officers and men. In this battle were lost
four men: T. P. Mays, killed; James Cole, mortally wounded; George
Knoll, severely, and John R. Crawford, slightly wounded. Mays was
serving in the capacity of ensign of the regiment, and died at the
front, where danger was met and glory won, with that flag which he had
so gallantly, proudly and defiantly borne aloft on many victorious
fields. Brave and undaunted, he ever led where duty called, sharing the
hardships and privations of camp life, the march and dangers of battle,
without a murmur, and dying with his flag unfurled and its staff
clenched in his hands. May the memory of Tapley P. Mays rest in peace.
With two commissioned officers, Captain Bane and Lieutenant Stone,
and fifteen men we left the field a little after 9 o'clock at night,
carrying one of the wounded, George Knoll, who had an ankle bone
fractured. Knoll was borne on the back of Isaac Hare a mile or more
to the hospital in Boonsboro.
The officers and men of Company D who went into the battle of Boonsboro
were Capt. R. H. Bane, Lieut. E. M. Stone; men of the line, Travis
Burton, John R. Crawford, James Cole, John S. Dudley, John A. Hale,
Isaac Hare, B. L. Hoge, J. J. Hurt, John F. Jones, David E. Johnston,
George Knoll, John Meadows, T. P. Mays, W. W. Munsey, William D.
Peters, W. H. H. Snidow, R. M. Stafford, Thomas S. Taylor and A. J.
Thompson. The cook in Company D, Alexander Bolton, remained with the
supply trains and was not in the engagement.
The forces in this battle on the Federal side, according to the report
of General McClellan, numbered 30,000, while the Confederate force, as
stated by General D. H. Hill and others, was 9000. The Federal loss was
1813 in fifty-nine infantry regiments engaged; 325 killed, 1403
wounded, and 85 missing. The Confederate loss was 224 killed, 860
wounded, and 800 made prisoners. There are but few regimental reports
of losses, therefore I am unable to give those in the 7th Virginia. I
am satisfied that of the four brigades of Evans, Kemper, Garnett and
Jenkins, sent late in the evening to reinforce the Confederate left,
not more than one thousand men reached the firing line, but these were
iron soldiers equal to the emergency, holding more than 5000 of the
enemy at bay until we were ready to leave the field. The superb
fighting in this battle--if at this day a fight can be called something
superb--prevented the enemy from occupying the Gap, thus sealing the
fate of the Union garrison at Harper's Ferry, which surrendered the
following morning, the tidings whereof came to us about noon, causing
much rejoicing.
Now set in an all night's march to the scene of the struggle at
Sharpsburg, called in the North "Antietam," among the most gigantic and
awful in the history of warfare. When daylight came Monday, we were at
Keedysville, midway between the points mentioned, not having reached
the field of Sharpsburg until 12 o'clock. Having been on our feet all
night, without sleep or food, save green corn or apples, placed us in
no cheerful mood, but in good fighting temper, as hungry soldiers fight
better than well fed ones. Numbers of men straggled off along the
march, and even after the Antietam was crossed, in search of food, a
number of whom did not get back in the ranks for the battle.
[Illustration: Lieut. John W. Mullins]
Chapter XIV
Number of Men for Action in Kemper's Brigade.
General D. R. Jones' Division.
Confederate Cavalry.
General Lee Playing Bluff with McClellan.
The Opening of the Battle.
Burnside's Attack and Repulse.
The Casualties.
Re-crossing the Potomac.
When Kemper's brigade was called to action at Sharpsburg, it did not
number 400 muskets. The only regimental report accessible of the number
going into action and the loss is that of Colonel Corse of the 17th
Virginia (himself wounded), who says he led into the action fifty-five
officers and men, all of whom were lost but five. The 1st Virginia did
not number more than 30, the 11th Virginia 85, the 24th probably 110,
and I know (for I counted them) that the 7th Virginia had but 117,
Company D having but two commissioned officers and fifteen men before
action began. Sergeant Taylor, sent in quest of rations, did not return
with the food until the battle had ended. John S. Dudley, on the
skirmish line, was wounded and captured. He, with Taylor, made the
fifteen, leaving for battle two officers and thirteen men. Kemper's
brigade belonged to General D. R. Jones' division, which was composed
of the brigades of Jenkins, Garnett, Jones, under Colonel Geo. T.
Anderson, Drayton, Kemper and Toombs, numbering on that morning, by the
report of General Jones, 2400 men--far too many.
The division of General Jones held the ground in front and southeast of
Sharpsburg, extending from the Boonsboro-Sharpsburg pike along the
ridges and range of hills in front, south and east of the old road to
Harper's Ferry, nearly a mile in length, covering the approaches from
what has since been known as Burnside's bridge over the Antietam.
Robertson's cavalry brigade, under Colonel Thomas T. Munford, was in
observation on the extreme right along the Antietam and toward the
Potomac; General Stuart, with General Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry brigade,
the 13th Virginia regiment of infantry, with a number of batteries
holding the extreme Confederate left, Hampton's cavalry brigade not in
the fight, but in reserve, in rear of Stuart's position.
It is stated upon authority that during Monday, September 15, and for
most of Tuesday, the 16th, General Lee confronted General McClellan's
Union army with only the divisions of Longstreet and D. H. Hill,
numbering all told 10,000 men, while General McClellan had 60,000 men
then facing Lee.
In the afternoon of Monday, and continuing for the most of Tuesday, the
Federal batteries across the Antietam kept up a lively fire, during
which the troops, our brigade included, frequently shifted position,
showing our flags first at one and then at another place, being exposed
to the artillery fire, and getting a severe shelling. General Lee was
playing bluff with McClellan, who was led to believe--and so reported
to his government--that he was confronted not only by "a strong
position, but by a strong force"--imaginary numbers, not real.
Late in the evening of Tuesday the firing to the left seemed to
increase. We heard not only the artillery fire but the rattle of
musketry for quite a time after dark. Before daylight on Wednesday, the
17th, the artillery opened vigorously on the left, followed by the
crash of small arms, the battle raging with intense fury for hours.
From our position on the right we could not see the combatants, but
could hear the crash of small arms and the wild rebel yell. As long as
we could hear this yell we felt that things were going our way.
The battle which began on the left had at noon extended to the right
until the Confederate troops holding the open ground on the left front
of Sharpsburg were within our view. We discovered at this time a
straggling retreating line of Confederates closely followed by a solid
blue line, which soon met the fire of a Confederate battery, causing it
to retire.
Now affairs in our front began to claim our attention. The 24th
Virginia regiment was detached from the brigade and sent a half mile to
the right, and shortly thereafter the 7th Virginia under Captain Phil
S. Ashby was detached and hurried to the right, taking position in
front of the old road leading from Sharpsburg to Harper's Ferry,
between the position held by the 1st, 11th and 17th Virginia regiments
of the brigade, and that held by the 24th regiment. Upon the advance of
the enemy we dropped back into the old road referred to. Captain Ashby
had been a soldier in our war with Mexico, was a brave man, and when he
had placed the regiment in the road, seeing the advance of the enemy he
drew his sword, saying: "Men, we are to hold this position at all
hazards. Not a man leave his place. If need be, we will die together
here in this road." Putting our muskets through the board fence, and
with fingers on the triggers, we awaited the enemy's approach through a
strip of corn, some forty yards away.[4]
[4] The headlong rush of Archer's brigade across the front of
the 7th Virginia regiment prevented its firing into the
enemy.
Colonel Geo. T. Anderson's brigade of D. R. Jones' division had early
in the morning been detached and sent to the aid of General Jackson,
and Garnett's brigade had been taken away and placed in position to
cover the front of Sharpsburg. General Lee had stripped his right in
aid of his left, which was being sorely pressed, leaving General Jones
to hold the right with the small brigades of Jenkins, Garnett, Drayton,
Kemper and Toombs, whose numbers I will later attempt to give.
Two of General Toombs' regiments, the 15th and 17th Georgia, were
guarding ammunition trains, and he, with the 2d and the 20th Georgia,
and 50th Georgia of Drayton's brigade--in all numbering 403 men--with a
company of sharpshooters and a battery, was ordered to the defense of
the bridge (Burnside's). On Wednesday morning at an early hour General
Burnside, who had been ordered to carry the bridge and advance to the
heights at Sharpsburg, assailed General Toombs' men at the bridge. The
stream is small, and at the time of the battle afforded but little
water--could have been waded in dozens of places. Why the bridge?
Burnside made the effort to carry the bridge, was five times repulsed
by Toombs' small force, losing a large number of men in killed and
wounded--exacting, however, from Toombs' regiments heavy toll, for his
2d Georgia lost one-half its numbers, and the 20th Georgia suffered
heavily. General Toombs, finding the enemy crossing the stream at a
ford below the bridge, and the position no longer tenable, withdrew his
men and retired to the heights on which Jones' four brigades--Jenkins',
Garnett's, Drayton's and Kemper's--were posted. General Toombs was
joined on the way by his 15th and 17th Georgia, and Major Little's
battalion of 140 Georgia men. His 20th Georgia had been sent to
replenish its ammunition, and only part of these men returned in time
for the final contest.
The enemy came in bold march at 4 P.M. He came in fine style and good
order until probably half way from the Antietam to the crest of the
heights, whereon stood the depleted Confederate battalions of Jenkins,
Garnett, Drayton and Kemper, when he encountered the Confederate
skirmish line posted behind stone and rail fences. These skirmishes
repulsed and routed the Union skirmishers, making it so hot for the
enemy's front battle line that it was only able to push forward by its
mere momentum, but on it came, overrunning, killing, wounding and
capturing the entire skirmish line, the men thereof remaining in their
places, firing until he reached the muzzles of their muskets. The
enemy's battle line overreached Kemper's right by several hundred
yards, exposing McIntosh's battery, the men thereof for the time being
forced to abandon their guns. Kemper's and Drayton's men were broken
off, outflanked and forced back to the outskirts of the village.
General A. P. Hill with five small Confederate brigades which had left
Harper's Ferry that morning, marching seventeen miles, reached the
field at the opportune moment. Leaving two of his brigades to guard the
approach from a ford on his right, General Hill threw the brigades of
Gregg, Archer and Branch on the enemy's left front and flank, while
General Toombs, who had circled around the enemy's left, being joined
by the men of Kemper, Jenkins, Garnett and Drayton, together with
Hill's three brigades, with a wild yell charged, the Confederate
batteries opening fiercely; the enemy was driven from the field, mostly
in disorder, fleeing to the banks of the Antietam for shelter. The
field was won, the day was ours. In this headlong Confederate charge,
General Branch of Hill's division was killed; General Gregg of the same
division and General Toombs of Jones' division, wounded. Federal
General Rodman was mortally wounded. The 24th and 7th Virginia suffered
a few casualties in killed and wounded, mostly from the artillery fire,
a few by musket balls. My company lost Hare, and Dudley wounded, the
latter captured on the skirmish line.
With the utter defeat of General Burnside's Federal Army Corps, the
battle ended, and Kemper's brigade occupied that night and the next day
the same position it held when the battle in our front opened.
No fiercer, bloodier one day's conflict occurred during the war than
the battle of Sharpsburg, which was fought on the part of the
Confederates by a worn out, broken down, naked, barefooted, lame and
starved soldiery, against a far superior force of brave, well rested,
well clothed and well fed veterans. It was an all day, stand up,
toe-to-toe and face-to-face fight, just as close as brave American
soldiers could make it, and in none other did Southern individuality
and self reliance--characteristics of the Confederate soldier--shine
more brilliantly or perform a more important part. It was on this field
that strategy and military science won the day for the Confederates. It
was mind over matter. General Lee, the greatest military man of the
age, was on the field, wielding the blade that was so admirably
tempered, which brought blood and destruction at every stroke.
The failure of the Union soldiers to win this battle and utterly crush
the Confederates, was no fault of theirs; they had the numbers and
equipment, were courageous and brave. The truth is, their leader was
timid, overcautious, and outgeneraled, fought his battle in detail,
and was defeated in detail. General Burnside's, the largest single
attacking corps, was beaten before he had his columns fairly deployed,
and this because the Confederates outmaneuvered him on the field, had
the flanks of his assaulting columns turned before he knew there was
any Confederate force on the ground to turn them. Upon this occurring,
he lost control of the battle, and the only thing apparent to him was
to get away as quickly as possible, which he did, though his battle had
not lasted an hour.
The force engaged in this battle on the Confederate right, on the Union
side, was that of General Burnside's 9th army corps, consisting of
twenty-nine regiments of infantry, six batteries of artillery, and
two companies of cavalry, making, according to the most reliable
information obtainable, an aggregate of 13,083. His losses were:
Killed, 436; wounded, 1796; missing, 115; total, 2349.
On the Confederate side the battle was fought by the brigades of
Jenkins, Garnett, Toombs, Kemper and Drayton (two regiments, 51st
Georgia and 15th South Carolina); Gregg's, Archer's and Branch's (less
the 18th North Carolina, on detached duty), of Hill's division. The
24th and the 7th Virginia, except their skirmishers, did not pull a
trigger, but were under the fire of the artillery and partly that of
infantry. Nor did the 18th North Carolina take part in the battle.
From the best information I have been able to obtain, from the official
reports and otherwise, I fix the number of Confederates in this battle
against General Burnside's 13,083 men as follows:
Jenkins' brigade 500
Garnett's brigade 250
Drayton's brigade (51st Ga. & 15th
S.C. Regmts.) 200
Kemper's brigade 300
Toombs' brigade (including Maj.
Little's bat., 140) 600
----
Total Jones' Division 1850
A. P. Hill's three brigades, less
18th North Carolina, detached 1900
----
Total, both divisions 3750
Casualties--General Jones reports, including the battle of Boonsboro,
1435. Toombs' brigade was not at Boonsboro, and the brigade commanded
by Colonel Geo. T. Anderson was detached in the early morning, and we
have no reports from the 28th Virginia regiment of Garnett's brigade,
and only in part from Toombs' regiments, and but from one regiment of
Kemper's. Approximately, however, the losses were as follows:
Col. Walker, commanding brigade
of Jenkins, reports 210
Taking 4 regiments of Garnett's
and averaging the 5th 80
Drayton's two regiments, estimated 100
Kemper's regiments, estimated 160
Toombs, stated 346
---
Total 996
The disparity in numbers on this part of the field was probably greater
than on any other--nearly three and a half to one.
There has been, and probably will always be, uncertainty as to the
number of men General Lee had in the battle of Sharpsburg. Colonel
Taylor, of the staff of General Lee, and Adjutant General of the army,
puts the number at 35,250--including cavalry and artillery, putting the
infantry force at 27,255. This is surely incorrect for the reasons:
first, that the returns of the army on the 20th of July, 1862, a few
days before the movement of the army to North Virginia from Richmond
began, show the total cavalry 3740. In the second place the fact is
well known that the cavalry and artillery had been engaged in the
battle of Cedar Run, the battles around Manassas, and at South
Mountain, Harper's Ferry, Crampton's Pass, and Boonsboro, and the
losses must have been large; and again, there were only three brigades
of Confederate cavalry at Sharpsburg--Lee's, Hampton's and Robertson's,
the latter under Munford, and there is no evidence that either of the
two latter named fired a shot at Sharpsburg. Lee's brigade could not
have numbered more than a third of the cavalry force, say 1500--a
liberal estimate--and the artillerists 1800. We have 3300. A careful
examination of all the sources of information available to me,
including official reports, and my own personal knowledge and
observation on the march and on the field, inclines me strongly to the
opinion and belief that the Confederate troops on the field of
Sharpsburg on the firing line and actually engaged on the 17th of
September numbered:
Jackson's division 1600
Ewell's division 3400
D. H. Hill's division 3000
D. R. Jones' division 1850
A. P. Hill's division 1900
Hood's division 2000
McLaws' division 2893
R. H. Anderson's division 3500
J. G. Walker's division 3200
Geo. T. Anderson's brigade 300
N. G. Evans' division 1500
Lee's cavalry brigade 1500
Artillerists 1800
------
Total 28,443
Note:--There is no evidence that Armistead's brigade of R. H.
Anderson's division drew trigger in this battle.
The Confederate casualties in the Maryland
campaign as given in the War Records 13,609
The Federal casualties, including the garrison
at Harper's Ferry 27,767
Deducting the Harper's Ferry garrison,
we have the Federal losses of the campaign 15,203
Deducting Federal losses at Boonsboro
Gap of 1813, Crampton's Gap 533, we
have approximately as the Federal loss
in battle of Sharpsburg 12,856
Deducting the estimated Confederate loss
at Boonsboro Gap, Crampton's Gap and
Harper's Ferry, 3948, from the campaign
loss, we have approximately as
the Confederate loss at Sharpsburg 9,661
The actual number of Union soldiers on the firing line in the battle of
Sharpsburg could not have exceeded 68,000 men, but Porter's corps, some
19,000, was close up in the center in reserve, with more than 14,000,
only a march away.
The night of the battle several of our men went out on the battlefield,
to look after the dead and wounded and for other purposes. Among those
from my company who went out in this way were Travis Burton and
Lieutenant Stone, who shortly returned with an unwounded prisoner of a
Rhode Island regiment, who had failed to get away with his retreating
comrades. This prisoner was a mere boy, who exhibited considerable
signs of fear and trepidation, and with whom Captain Ashby had quite a
little fun.
On passing over a battlefield after the close of the battle, it will
usually be observed that the pockets of the dead, and sometimes of the
wounded, have been turned out. A soldier will generally take from the
battlefield and the dead what he wants.
The next day, the 18th, was in the main quiet, with some little picket
firing; the wounded were being cared for and the dead buried. In the
immediate front of our brigade, some fifty yards away, the farthest
point reached by Harland's Federal brigade the day before, and the
ground on which it stood, when charged by the brigades of Toombs and
Kemper, I counted the bodies of 33 dead Union soldiers of the 8th
Connecticut regiment. One of the wounded was still living, to whom I
gave a drink of water and filled his canteen. During the day a man of
our regiment, who had gone forward to help remove the Federal wounded,
was shot through the body and killed by a Federal sharpshooter, who was
so far away that the report from his rifle was not heard by the men
engaged in the removal of the wounded.
On the night of the 18th, we left the battle line, moving to the
Potomac, wading the river at the ford near Sheperdstown, and instead
of singing when crossing the river thirteen days before, "Maryland,
MY Maryland!" the song was, "Carry me back, oh! carry me back to old
Virginia, once more."
A halt was made some three miles from the river; moving in a day or two
to near Bunker Hill, and again to a point nearer to Winchester, close
by a large spring, where we received quite a number of accessions to
our ranks by the return of the shoeless, sick, and some wounded men
left along the route of our advance into Maryland.
Chapter XV
From Winchester to Culpeper.
Reorganization of the Army.
What Happened at Culpeper.
To Fredericksburg and Battle There.
In Winter Quarters.
Incidents of the Camp.
Longstreet's command left the vicinity of Winchester the latter part of
October, 1862, crossing the Shenandoah river, Blue Ridge, and reaching
Culpeper the early part of the first week in November, going into camp
a short distance southeast of the court house. Several companies of the
7th regiment were from Orange, Culpeper, Madison and Rappahannock, and
while in this camp the friends of these men came with wagons loaded
with provisions and clothing, supplying many of their needs, and
relieving much of their suffering.
Here the reorganization of the army was effected into two army corps,
the first commanded by General James Longstreet, the second by General
Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson. Later a third corps was organized, of
which Lieutenant General A. P. Hill was appointed commander. Pickett's
division was also organized, composed of five brigades, as follows:
First brigade, General James L. Kemper: regiments 1st, 3d, 7th,
11th and 24th Virginia.
Second brigade, General R. B. Garnett: regiments 8th, 18th, 19th,
28th and 56th Virginia.
Third brigade, General Lewis A. Armistead: regiments 9th, 14th,
38th, 53d and 57th Virginia.
Fourth brigade, General M. D. Corse: regiments 15th, 17th, 29th,
30th and 32d Virginia.
These four Virginia brigades were composed of the flower of the
state.
Jenkins' South Carolina brigade--General M. Jenkins: regiments
Palmetto sharpshooters, 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 5th and 6th South
Carolina, and 4th battalion.
To which was attached the following Virginia artillery: Major
Dearing's 38th battalion, with Caskie's, Stribling's and Latham's
batteries.
Many additions were made to the ranks at Culpeper, greatly increasing
our strength; the organization now being better as to numbers and
discipline than at any previous period. The health of the soldiers was
also much improved; the entire army, however, still being deficient in
equipment, especially shoes, overcoats and blankets, and the chilly
November winds, the precursor of that fearfully cold winter just
ahead, causing suffering among the men, who bore the same without
murmuring--such was their metal. The weather by this time had become
quite cold, the men building strong fires, and to keep off the cold
ground at night they procured, when possible, two or three flat fence
rails, placing them near the fire, lying down upon them. Such was their
feather bed, covering themselves with a blanket if they chanced to have
one.
Here the writer was appointed Sergeant-Major of the regiment,
succeeding Sergeant-Major Park, disabled in the second battle of
Manassas--an honor as proud as anything that has come to him since.
The march to Fredericksburg began November 18, over the old plank
road, passing through the Wilderness and Chancellorsville, soon to be
drenched in blood in the most famous battles of the war--Chancellorsville,
Wilderness and Spottsylvania. Here it may be said that in the County of
Spottsylvania more important battles were fought, more blood shed and
more men killed and wounded, and more soldiers lie buried, than in any
other county in the United States. Here were fought the first and
second battles of Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the two days
Wilderness, and the series of battles in and around Spottsylvania court
house, including countless skirmishes and cavalry combats. It is no
exaggeration to say that the men killed and wounded in the battles,
skirmishes and combats in the county reached 100,000.
When we reached the vicinity of Fredericksburg, snow had fallen to
the depth of two inches or so, which had to be cleared off to find
a dry place to go to bed. Here we remained for twenty or more days,
performing no guard duty, but kept busy gathering fuel to make fires to
keep warm. Eating our rations gave us little trouble, not nearly so
much as when or where the next would come from. The men smoked, some
croaked--for it must be remarked that in the army there are chronic
grumblers, who complain of short rations, continually saying the war
would never end; others that we were going to be whipped in the next
fight; but men of this class were few in number, the greater part in
good spirits, buoyant with hope and confident of the final triumph of
our cause.
At early dawn, December 11, we stood to arms, continuing to do so until
early Saturday morning, the 13th, two days and nights, then moving out
from camp in the direction of the Rappahannock. The two days' suspense
just alluded to proved a severe task on the staying powers of the
strongest men. Our march now continued until we reached a point
overlooking the river valley. Although frosty, the air bracing, a dense
fog hovered pall-like over the valley below, shutting off from our view
the enemy, now in full force along the river, and the broad bottom land
at our feet. As the sun broke away the fog, the movement continuing,
there was heard to our left occasional rattle of musketry. Meeting a
negro man loaded with blankets, canteens, haversacks and general
baggage, puffing as if almost out of breath, with great drops of sweat
as big as peas on his face--someone said to him: "Hello, Uncle! Where
are you going?"
His answer was, "To de r'ar, Sah!"
Then the query, "To what command do you belong?"
"Barksdale's brigade, Sah."
"Is it running, too?"
"No, boss, it never runs, but I always do."
By this time the fog had so lifted that we could see in front far to
our right the gleam of a long line of bayonets, though we could not see
the men who held the guns. We halted on the break of the heights, where
we witnessed the combat between the Federal and Confederate skirmishers
of Jackson's command, as well also as the assault by a part of the
Federal line of battle against Jackson's men, and the repulse of the
Federals. Not being longer permitted to enjoy the further progress of
the battle on that part of the field, we were now hastened down the
hill and formed in line of battle in a wood with an open field in
front; the fog, however, still bothered in seeing the game we were
watching. The dictates of self preservation impelled us to throw up
some rude breastworks, which would furnish fair protection from rifle
or musket balls, but none from artillery fire. While in this position,
where we remained until the middle of the afternoon, there could be
heard the commands of the officers of the enemy quite as distinctly as
those of our own.
Many of the men without overcoats and thinly clad stood shivering from
the cold fog, their beards white with frost. General Kemper came along
and made a patriotic, soul-stirring speech, which had a good effect
upon the men, also making similar speeches to other regiments of the
brigade.
The Confederates on the left at the foot of Marye's Hill being heavily
pressed, our brigade was withdrawn and pushed across the hills and
valleys to a position in rear and easy supporting distance of the
troops holding position at the foot of the hill. While in this new
position, the musket and rifle balls of the enemy flew thick and fast,
a number being wounded, among them Lewis N. Wiley, of D company, one
ball striking the writer's left foot, which had become so hard by going
without shoes that but little injury was inflicted. At dark and as the
last charge of the enemy was repulsed, our brigade moved forward,
relieving some Georgia and North Carolina troops; the left of my
regiment resting on the road leading out of Fredericksburg over the
hill, and extending to the right on the upper side of a road leaving
the last named road at right angles; occupying the angle made by these
roads, where we lay down on the upper side of the road on a wall made
by a stone fence built against the foot of the hill, which afforded us
no protection.
The 1st Virginia regiment was on our right and in line in the road and
behind the stone fence; the men of our regiment, with bayonets, boards,
sticks and tin cups, went to work to cut a trench on top of the wall on
which it lay, and by daylight the next morning had made themselves
works sufficient to protect them against minnie balls.
Around us lay the Confederate dead, two dead Georgians lying in the
midst of my company, by whose side the writer lay down and slept. The
night was cool, but not cold; there was no moon, but bright starlight,
to which, for several hours, was added the Aurora borealis. About
midnight I was aroused by Captain Bane, who said to me, "They are
coming," and with my ear to the ground I could distinctly hear hoof
strokes approaching from the direction of the city. In a moment every
man was at his post, musket in hand; dead stillness reigned. The
mounted parties rode up to the intersection of the roads and were
captured by the first regiment. The party consisted of three Federal
officers, one a member of General Hooker's staff. They had ridden
forward to examine their skirmish line and had been allowed to pass
through unchallenged, finding themselves in a trap. They were sent
under guard to the provost-marshal in charge of an Irish sergeant and
guard of the 1st Virginia. This sergeant on his return next morning,
while passing our company, was severely wounded by a Federal
sharpshooter standing behind the corner of a brick house a hundred
yards or more away.
We had been advised on the night of the battle that the attack was
expected to be renewed the next morning, in view of which we had been
furnished with one hundred rounds of ammunition, with instructions to
hold the position at all hazards, that we would be supported by a line
of battle on the hill in our rear. The attack was not made, though we
remained in position during the day and night, skirmishing and
sharpshooting. Next day after the battle, while holding the line in
front of Fredericksburg, some of our boys carried water to the Federal
wounded lying in our front, though at the risk of life.
Amid a rainstorm on the night of the 14th, the enemy stole away and
crossed the river. The battle over and the danger past, we retired to
our camp on the hills south of Fredericksburg, where we remained for
nearly two months, suffering much from cold, want of clothing and
shoes; many of the barefooted men making and wearing rawhide moccasins.
Frequently, to prevent suffering at night, the men made log fires and
in evening rolled away the burning logs, cleared away the fire and
ashes and made their sleeping places on the warm earth from which the
fire had been removed. When we had snow, the men would fight snowball
battles, in which frequently someone was seriously hurt. We did little
picket or guard duty, and many engaged in card playing. Religious
exercises were now infrequent. I recall going once to divine services,
when the Chaplain, Mr. McCarthy, preached; and I remember to this good
day the text which formed the basis of his discourse. It was from the
53d chapter of Isaiah, verse i: "Who hath believed our report? and to
whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?"
During the long, dreary, cold two months following the battle of
Fredericksburg, while in camp amid privations and suffering, the men
discussed freely the questions touching the war, its conduct, and
prospects for peace. The soldiers talked gravely of these matters,
discussing them frequently with much earnestness, not a few becoming
homesick and longing for the termination of the game of conflict and
death. An ever abiding confidence in our cause, its justness, and our
belief in the final triumph of right over wrong coupled with invincible
spirits ever ready to brave the storm of battle, caused our sufferings
and hardships to be treated as trivial, as compared with the issue at
stake. The end, however, was not yet in sight, and little did we dream
that it would be reached as it was; for while it was supposed that the
private soldier knew little of what was transpiring throughout the
country--North, South or in Europe, yet it is a fact that the questions
of resources of the South in men and supplies; the North with its vast
resources, with the old world to draw upon for men to fight its
battles, were frequently talked of, as well as the remote possibility
of foreign intervention; its effect upon the war; the peace feeling
North, and its probable effect. Our confidence in the armies of the
Confederacy, and our ability to successfully resist the Federal armies
with their overwhelming numbers was scarcely doubted. It was remarkable
what confidence the men reposed in General Lee; they were ready to
follow him wherever he might lead, or order them to go.
In company D was one, Dan East, who was never in a battle, and never
intended to be; yet Dan knew more about it than anyone who had gone
through it; always turning up after the battle with a full haversack,
good blanket, overcoat and shoes. As usual, Dan walked into the camp
after the battle of Fredericksburg, when the Colonel determined to
punish him; he caused a placard with the word "Coward" in large letters
to be fastened across his back, and with rail on his shoulder he was
marched to and fro in front of the regiment; but this had little effect
on Dan, and the first opportunity he helped himself to a fellow
soldier's clothing and other goods, which were found in his quarters.
The men of the company decided to rid the service of Dan by whipping
him out of it, which they did.
It was while in this camp that a rencounter occurred between Hight and
Young, both large, stout, athletic men, pretty equally matched in size,
strength and good mettle. The fight was as close as two brave men could
make it, but friends intervened and the combatants were separated.
Let us now return to the result of the battle of Fredericksburg, as far
as forces engaged and casualties suffered are concerned.
The Federal army in this battle numbered 50,000; casualties, 12,653.
Confederate army, 20,000; casualties, 4201. Casualties in Kemper's
brigade, 46; in 7th Virginia regiment, 5; in Co. D, 1; Lewis N. Wiley,
wounded--with the whack taken at the writer's foot, already described.
January 20, 1863, the command was suddenly called to arms, marched up
the Rappahannock in the direction of Banks' ford, where, it was
reported, the Federal army was threatening to cross the river. We
remained out one night in the snow, rain, mud and slush, returning to
camp next day.
Chapter XVI
Leaving Camp.
March Through Spottsylvania.
Louisa.
Hanover, Petersburg.
First North Carolina Campaign.
Heavy Snowfall and Battle.
Accident to Anderson Meadows Near Chester.
Camp Near Petersburg.
Gardner Exchanges Hats.
Lieutenant Stone in a Box.
To Weldon, Goldsboro and Kinston.
At Suffolk, Virginia. Return via Petersburg, Chester, Richmond, to
Taylorsville.
John, the Drummer Boy.
Professor Hughes, Frank Burrows and Others.
Across the Pamunkey, Return Taylorsville and to Culpeper.
Monday, February 16, 1863, in the midst of a storm of snow and sleet,
Pickett's division took up its line of march heading toward Richmond.
Reports were rife relating to destination, some saying Charleston,
others Savannah or Blackwater; all were on the list of probabilities,
the line of march being through the counties of Spottsylvania, Louisa
and Hanover. At Hanover Junction Sergeant A. L. Fry, who had returned
from captivity, rejoined us. Within eight miles or so of Richmond the
moving army went into camp, resting a few days from fatiguing march,
then proceeding through Richmond to Chester station on the Richmond and
Petersburg railroad.
The brave Lieutenant-Colonel Flowerree of the 7th regiment, having
imbibed a little freely, as we passed through Richmond was placed in
arrest, charged with the breach of soldierly good conduct. He was
finally restored to us on the return from Gettysburg; a streak of luck
that saved the Colonel from being in the great battle.
The day of our arrival at Chester was cool, the early night was clear,
the sky blue, the stars shining--nothing that betokened any sudden
change of weather. Awakening next morning we found we had a blanket of
snow twelve inches deep--the men lying in rows reminding one of a
cemetery, and on rising, of the resurrection day. We soon built roaring
fires and went out and fought a great snowball battle. The explosion of
cartridges in a cartridge box that had been hung up too near the fire
came near costing Anderson Meadows the loss of his eyes. Meadows was
quite a remarkable man. When he went into the army he could neither
read nor write, but during the service he became quite proficient in
all, was a number one cook and a brave soldier, surviving the war.
Our next move took us to a point about a mile southeast of Petersburg,
where we went into camp. The weather had somewhat moderated, but snow
still on the ground. Our Lieutenant Stone, who had been home on
furlough, returned to us here. The camp was always more lively when he
was present, for there was no fun or mischief started in which he did
not make a full hand, and in the army anything that cultivates
cheerfulness is of real value. Many of the men went into Petersburg,
some without leave, among them Gardner of Company D, who, on his
return, was discovered wearing a good looking hat instead of the old,
dingy cap he had worn away. Inquiry being made as to how he became
possessed of the hat, he replied: "I swapped with a fellow--but he
wasn't there!"
March 25 a shift was made to the Weldon and Petersburg railway station,
and while the train to carry us south was being made ready, some of the
men took on too many drinks, our jolly Lieutenant Stone being one, and
becoming boisterous, fell into the hands of the city police. To keep
our Lieutenant out of their clutches, the men of the company put him
in a box car, fastening the doors, but as he did not fancy being a
prisoner in a box car he kicked off one of the doors, coming out with
it, hanging as he came on a nail or part of the door, the leg of his
trousers catching the same a little above the knee, tearing one leg of
his trousers.
Next morning found us at Weldon, where we remained several hours, and
while here Pat Wood, an Irishman of the 1st regiment, started some kind
of a row, which brought General Ransom, the commandant of the post,
upon the scene, and which resulted in a peremptory order for the whole
command to move on, which it did. Crowded into box cars, without fire,
the weather cold, the result cold feet and general discomfort. But a
soldier equal to almost any emergency, especially where his personal
safety and comfort are concerned, and determining to have fires,
covered the floor of each car with sand. On this fires were made of
longleaf North Carolina pine. The smoke was dense, and, having no
escape, settled upon the men, so that when Goldsboro was reached that
evening we were thought to belong to the "colored brigade."
Next day we proceeded about twenty-five miles to Kinston, on the Neuse
river, about thirty-five miles west from Newbern. From Kinston we did
some scouting and picket duty on the roads leading to Newbern, the
object seeming to be to keep the enemy at Newbern close in, while our
commissariat gathered supplies, as General Longstreet with Hood's
division was likewise doing at Suffolk, Va. The enemy had occupied
Kinston the preceding winter, and many of the houses had been
destroyed; the inhabitants had removed, either inside the Union
military lines, or to the interior of the state. The village, in fact,
was entirely deserted.
Our brigade left Kinston April 9, moving by rail to Goldsboro and
Weldon to a point twenty or more miles south of Petersburg, from whence
we marched through the Blackwater region--the counties of Southampton,
its county town Jerusalem, Isle of Wight--to the neighborhood of
Suffolk in Nausemond County, where we united with the division of
General Hood, then closely investing the town.
I will here relate two incidents occurring on our journey to and from
Kinston. While halting at Goldsboro, a soldier of Company F, 24th
Virginia, named Adams, went to a pie stand kept by an old lady, took
part of her pies and was walking away without paying therefor, when he
was arrested by a town policeman, whom the soldier sought to resist,
and in the fight Adams was killed. The other incident was, as we were
being transported by the railway in box cars between Kinston and
Goldsboro, a part of the men were on top of the boxes, and along
portions of the railway were overhead bridges for the accommodation
of travelers on the county roads. One, Manly Reece of Co. G, 24th
Virginia, standing erect on one of the box cars, and not observing an
overhead bridge, was struck, knocked from the car and killed.
At Suffolk lively skirmishing was kept up for quite a while, sometimes
approaching a battle. While here we were formed into line of battle to
receive the foe, but he did not come. Matters thus continued until we
retired, as hereinafter related.
From a letter I wrote to a friend dated April 25 (the original
furnished while writing these pages), it appears we reached Suffolk the
12th of the month. I state in the letter: "This is the 13th day that we
have been in close proximity to the enemy." While at Suffolk three of
my Company D--Hugh J. Wilburn, James H. Gardner and John S. W. French,
deserted to the enemy.
Having accomplished the object of the expedition, the troops quietly
withdrew from the front a little after dark on the evening of Monday,
May 4. On reaching South Quay, we heard of the great Confederate
victory at Chancellorsville. Pushing ahead through Petersburg to
Chester Station, we again halted there for a few days for rest and
recuperation. While here in camp, Isaac Hare and Travis Burton of
Company D took "French furlough" and joined themselves to a portion of
the Confederate army serving in southwestern Virginia. The cause of
this action was never explained.
Baldwin L. Hoge, in handling a knife, accidentally wounded himself in
the knee, was sent to the hospital, and was not able for field service
for several months.
It was here also that the men of the divisions of Pickett and Hood
heard with sorrow of the death of General Stonewall Jackson, an
irreparable loss; for his place could not well be filled, and it seemed
that with his loss our cause began to wane. The humblest private in all
the armies of the South deeply mourned the loss of this Christian man
and able general.
Hood's Texans were encamped across the railroad from us, amusing
themselves by putting musket caps on the rails just in advance of the
approach of a passenger train, then taking their stand close beside the
track, bushes or brush in hand. On the caps exploding, the passengers
would put their heads out of the windows to ascertain the cause of the
popping, and found on drawing their heads back into the coach that they
were hatless--a slick trick of the soldiers to get for themselves a
supply of hats.
Resuming the line of march May 12, we passed through Richmond to
Taylorsville in Hanover County, not far from the Junction, the crossing
of the Virginia Central over the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac
railroad.
A series of religious meetings were here held and many professed faith
in Christ, the writer among the number. From a letter to a friend at
home, dated at Taylorsville, May 26, I see that I stated: "We are now
resting from our hard marches, which, however, may be resumed at any
time. There is a religious meeting going on here now. Rev. Dr. Pryor of
Petersburg is preaching for us. I think he will be able to do great
good. Nearly every man in the brigade seems to take an interest in the
meetings. I hope that much good may be done. Our soldiers are loyal to
their country, and Oh! how grand if they would only be loyal to God."
In the interim of our arrival at Taylorsville and leaving there, the
division took a journey across the Pamunkey into King and Queen County,
returning to Taylorsville. A few days thereafter we had division
review, being drawn up in line to receive General Pickett, to whom, as
he passed by, we were to lower the flags and present arms, the drums to
beat. John Whitlock was the drummer boy for our regiment, a little waif
picked up in Richmond by some one of our regimental band or drum corps,
of which Professor Hughes was leader, with Frank Burrows and others
members of the band. John Whitlock was a mischievous boy, who, to keep
from beating the drum, would lose or throw away the sticks; so when on
this review he was ordered by the Colonel to beat the drum, there was
no response, on account of which, on return to camp, I was ordered to
place on John a drum shirt, which consisted of taking the heads out of
the drum and slipping the barrel down over his arms. John cried and
begged, and I let him go upon his promise to do better in the future.
At Taylorsville Pickett's division, fully equipped, was made ready for
the most active field service. The ranks were recuperated by those who
had been sick, those recovered from wounds, as well as by recruits, and
all vacancies in the officers of the line and staff, among them Captain
John H. Parr, who had been appointed Adjutant to fill the vacancy
occasioned by the death of Adjutant Starke, killed in the battle of
Frazier's Farm. Company D had lost up to this time, killed in battle,
died of wounds, disease, transfers to other commands, detached service
and desertion, nearly 70 men; had received no recruits except those
received in August, 1861, and some were sick and in hospital.
It is probable we left Taylorsville for Culpeper June 3, as I see from
a letter written by me on the 11th of June from a point about eight
miles from Culpeper court house, that I say: "We have been marching for
the last eight days, have now halted eight miles from Culpeper court
house. Our cavalry had a severe fight with the enemy day before
yesterday. I think we are to have a hard summer's campaign. It is
reported that the Yankees have moved back to Manassas and Bull Run.
There has been some fighting at Fredericksburg, where some of the enemy
have crossed and are throwing up fortifications."
It was our custom to call the enemy Yankees; some said "D--d Yankees,"
and they likewise called us "D--d rebels," neither side meaning any
offense, nor the expression carrying any personal ill will. It is told
by General Sherman in his Atlanta, or some other campaign, that he
heard an old negro praying, saying among other things, "Oh! Lord, bless
the d--d Yankees." We used the word Yankee, prior to the war, applying
it to the New England people, the descendants of the Puritans, the
people whose ancestors landed on Plymouth Rock, of whom General Early
is credited with saying, "If that rock had landed on them, we would
never have had the d--d h--l fired war." The word Yankee is of
uncertain derivation though said to be an Indian corruption of the
French word, Anglais, meaning English. The Union soldiers usually
called us "Johnnies," or "Johnny Rebs."
The army had been organized with three corps--first, Longstreet's;
second, Ewell's, and third, A. P. Hill's. While at Culpeper, where the
Confederate army was being mobilized, additional numbers were being
received into the ranks. The passionate ardor of our people for their
country's cause had brought to the army nearly every man fit for the
service. It was perhaps the largest efficient number of men, and
composed of the best fighting material that General Lee ever led to
battle. Most of the men were well inured to the service, and well
prepared to undergo the greatest privations and hardships; and by
this time most of the cowards and skulkers had either gotten out of
the army or had never gotten in, or gone over to the enemy. In these
men General Lee imposed the utmost confidence, and this confidence was
reciprocated. It is stated upon authority that as the army went forward
on its march to Pennsylvania, while passing through the valley of
Virginia not far from Berryville, near which General Lee had stopped
and dined with a friend, that in the act of mounting his horse to
depart, his host remarked: "I have never had any confidence in the
success of our cause till now I see our army marching north." Promptly
came General Lee's only reply: "Doctor, there marches the finest body
of men that ever tramped the earth."
The usual order to cook rations and prepare to move at a moment's
notice was given, and everything was put in readiness; the camp was all
bustle and confusion.
Chapter XVII
Pennsylvania Campaign of July, 1863.
Culpeper and Snicker's Gap.
Fording the Potomac.
Shooting a Deserter.
Pennsylvania Invaded.
Chambersburg.
My Dream.
Willoughby Run.
Roll Call.
I am now about to record the things I saw in connection with the
greatest endeavor of the Army of Northern Virginia during the Civil
War, which led up to the Battle of Gettysburg, a campaign which
startled the North, alarmed the capital at Washington, and inspired
General Lee's army with new heroism and courage. We were going to
Pennsylvania in part to procure that for which Jacob's sons went down
into Egypt.
Monday, June 15, 1863, the head of the column moved out, directed
toward the Blue Ridge and Snicker's Gap, through which we passed June
20, crossing the Shenandoah River at Castleman's ferry, where we were
detained three or four days, and again at Berryville, for the purpose
of keeping in supporting distance of our cavalry operating against that
of the enemy east of the Ridge. The march from Culpeper was conducted
left in front, the enemy being on our right. The Confederate cavalry
had for several days been engaged with that of the enemy in the
vicinity of Aldie and Upperville. The army was followed by a large
drove of beef cattle, James B. Croy, of Company D, being detailed as
one of the drivers, thereby escaping the storm at Gettysburg.
The way for the march of the army through the Virginia valley had been
cleared by Ewell's corps, which had defeated and driven away the
Federal troops at Winchester and Martinsburg; while the Confederate
cavalry had cut and destroyed a portion of the Baltimore & Ohio
railroad west of Harper's Ferry, and Jenkins' Confederate cavalry
brigade had crossed the Potomac, entering Maryland and Pennsylvania.
The weather was hot and the march continued through Martinsburg by
Falling Waters, crossing the Potomac by wading to Williamsport, Md.,
going into camp a short distance out of the town. Here it was late in
the evening that a deserter from the 18th Virginia regiment was
executed by shooting.
The morale of the army was superb, officers and men alike inspired with
confidence in the ability of the army to beat its old antagonist
anywhere he chose to meet us. We were moving into the enemy's country
in fine spirit--no straggling, no desertion, no destruction of private
property, no outrages committed upon non-combatants, the orders of the
commanding general on this subject being strictly observed. Among the
men were expressions of disapproval of the invasion of the North. We
had uniformly insisted upon defensive warfare on our own soil; in other
words, we steadfastly contended against the claim of the enemy to
invade our own land, and logically we should be bound by the same
reasoning. However, in the last analysis every man in the army of
Northern Virginia was loyal to his commander-in-chief, wherever he
should lead. Here, indeed, was a spectacle: An army of more than sixty
thousand freemen, every man a soldier in the true sense of the word,
brave, resolute, fearless, the heroes and victors of many fields,
marching unobstructed and thus far unopposed through an enemy's
country, whose people had scarcely known that war was in progress;
living in quiet and plenty. The march was continued with steady tread
to Hagerstown, where a halt was made to allow Hill's corps, which had
crossed the river below, to pass. Again marching, the Cumberland Valley
in Pennsylvania was entered, a magnificent land, the counterpart of the
lovely valley of Virginia, the sight bringing homesickness to the heart
of not a few Virginia boys. Nothing was seen indicating that these
people knew that a terrible war had been raging for two years, only a
few miles away; certain it is they had felt little of its effect,
either upon their population or resources. At Greencastle was noted
among the people defiance and vindictive mien; while not speaking out,
their looks indicated that deep down in their bosoms was rancor and the
wish that all the rebel hosts were dead and corralled by the devil.
Saturday, June 27, Chambersburg, the capital--county town--of Franklin
County, was entered by our column; passing to the outskirts on the
north, or northwest side thereof, halting in the street in front of a
beautiful residence, said to be that of Colonel McClure. Some ladies
appeared and volunteered to deliver a sharp, spicy address, which was
responded to by the band of our regiment, with "Dixie." The boys sang
"Dixie" and "Bonnie Blue Flag," laughed and cheered lustily, then
marched on a few miles on the York road and went into camp.
Pickett's division was left at Chambersburg to guard the trains until
General Imboden's command could close up and relieve it, which it did
on the evening of July 1. While waiting to be relieved, the men of
Pickett's division were employed in tearing up the track of the
Cumberland Valley railroad, which was thoroughly done for a mile or
more, piling and firing the ties, heating the rails and bending them
around trees.
During the march from the Potomac to Chambersburg, I one night had a
dream in which I saw my left shoulder mangled by a cannon shot and I
lying on the battlefield bleeding, dying. This dream, not like many
not recollected, deeply impressed itself upon my mind, and I found
myself unable to throw it off. When three days later in the battle
at Gettysburg I was struck by an exploding shell on my left side, the
dream instantly came up, and I said, here now is its fulfillment. Other
soldiers, like myself, probably during and after the war dreamed of
being in battle, hearing distinctly the booming of cannon, the noise of
bursting shell and the rattle of musketry.
About 2 o'clock on Thursday morning, July 2, being aroused by the sound
of the long roll, we were quickly in line, the column moving on the
road leading to Gettysburg. The march was rapid, and unceasing, until
we reached the vicinity of the coming conflict at Gettysburg, a
distance of twenty-five miles or more over a dusty road, beneath a
burning July sun, passing on the way the smoldering ruins of Thad
Stevens' iron furnace, which had been fired by General J. A. Early a
few days before. The other divisions of our corps (Longstreet's) had
preceded us some twenty-four hours, arriving in time to make the
principal battle of the second day.
On the march over South Mountain, reaching the east side, passing
through the small hamlets of Cashtown and Seven Stars, plainly could be
heard the roar of Longstreet's battle of that evening. Near the middle
of the afternoon the division halted at Willoughby Run, two miles from
Gettysburg; the men soon scattered, some getting water, some eating and
some in conversation. As the shades of night began to gather on this
bright eve, being fatigued with the day's march, all retired early to
rest, little dreaming that upon such lovely eve, such awful morn should
rise. Brave, happy souls, little do you anticipate the horrors of the
next twenty-four hours! All was quiet during the night until reveille,
which was sounded before day, when we fell into ranks for roll call,
the last for so many gallant men, who on this eventful day were to pour
out their life's blood for freedom and the right, as God gave them to
see the right, and to go to that bourne from whence no traveler
returns.
Chapter XVIII
Finishing Roll Call.
March to the Field.
Inspection of Arms.
Fearful Artillery Duel.
The Charge.
Killed and Wounded.
Army Retires.
Crosses the Potomac.
Proceeding with the roll call, the officers and men of Company D were:
Captain R. H. Bane, Lieutenants E. M. Stone, John W. Mullins and E. R.
Walker; non-commissioned, Sergeants T. S. Taylor, W. H. H. Snidow, the
writer; Corporals A. J. Thompson, Daniel Bish, George C. Mullins, J. B.
Young; Privates Akers, Barrett, Crawford, Darr, Fortner (J. H.),
Fortner (W. C.), Hight, Hurt (J. J.), Jones, Lewy (Jo), Meadows
(Anderson), Meadows (John), Minnich, Munsey, Peters, Sarver (D. L.),
Sublett, Stafford, Wilburn (G. L.) and Wilburn (W. I.). Total, 31,
being all of Company D present that I recall. I believe this to be
correct.
James B. Croy had been detailed to drive beef cattle; Alexander Bolton
belonged to the ambulance corps, and Charles A. Hale was company cook.
During the terrific artillery duel, which followed, Captain Bane and
Lieutenant Mullins were prostrated by heat, from which they did not
recover for some days. Lieutenant Stone had been assigned to the
command of Company E of the regiment, which had no commissioned officer
present. Lieutenant Walker was left in command of our company, and just
as the artillery duel was about closing, and but a few minutes before
the general advance began, I was knocked out of ranks by a bursting
shell, of which more later. The company therefore went into the charge
with but 28 men, counting Lieutenant Stone leading Company E, and
Young, color guard. The three brigades of Pickett's division present
were Garnett's, Kemper's and Armistead's, composed of fifteen Virginia
regiments, numbering in the aggregate that morning about 4,700 men,
which included the General's staff, and regimental officers, of which
there was the full complement; Colonel W. Tazewell Patton, commanding
the 7th Virginia regiment, being the only field officer of the regiment
then present. The division, from the major-general down, was composed
of Virginians, many of them mere boys, and the probability is that the
average age of the men in the ranks, including the line officers, did
not exceed 19 years. I had just passed my eighteenth birthday. In the
division were companies from the counties of Bedford, Campbell,
Franklin, Patrick, Henry, Floyd, Montgomery, Pulaski, Giles, Craig,
Mercer, Madison, Orange, Culpeper, Rappahannock, Greene, Albemarle,
Carroll, Appomattox, Pittsylvania, Prince Edward, Norfolk, Nansemond,
and others; and from the cities of Richmond, Lynchburg, Norfolk and
Portsmouth--volunteers all, many of them school boys who had entered
the service at the commencement of the war, and becoming fully inured
to the service.
Our brigade, commanded by the gallant and impetuous General James L.
Kemper, was in front during the morning's march, and as we formed
into battle line held the right, Garnett's brigade on the left,
Armistead's a little to the left and rear. The line was formed as
early as 7 o'clock A.M. Inspection of arms was had and everything
put in readiness for the engagement then imminent. We moved out of a
skirt of woods, went forward a short distance into a field, on which
was standing a crop of rye not yet harvested. Our position was now on
Seminary Ridge, four hundred yards or so back from the top, under the
crest; the line formed somewhat obliquely to the Emmitsburg road in
front of us, with the Confederate batteries on the crest four hundred
yards or more in front of us. Pickett's division was to lead the
assault, the wings supported on the right by Wilcox's brigade, Heth's
division under General Pettigrew, supported by the brigades of Scales
and Lane, under General Trimble, for the purpose of supporting the
left: all obstructions cleared away from the immediate front.
In the formation thus made, arms were stacked and we, with the
understanding that when two signal guns were fired, to take arms and
lie flat on the ground. All along the Confederate front was massed our
artillery, perhaps 75 or more guns. The Federal artillery, 220 guns,
along their whole front. The lines of the two armies, now held as by a
leash, were 1,430 yards from each other, the distance between the
opposing batteries an average of a little more than 1,000 yards. The
Federal guns exceeded ours in number and quality of metal.
Now the suspense was something awful. The men were grave and
thoughtful, but showed no signs of fear. The multitude awaiting
judgment could not be more seriously impressed with what was now about
to follow. However, a soldier in the field rarely thought his time to
die had exactly arrived--that is, it would be the other fellow's
time--and well it was so. Occasionally a man was met who had made up
his mind that the next battle would be his last. Men have been known to
have such presentiment and sure enough be killed in the next
engagement. Such was true of our gallant Colonel Patton, who yielded up
his promising young life in this battle.
The issue of the campaign and of the Civil War itself, as history
shows, was now trembling in the balance. Victory or defeat to either
side would be in effect a settlement of the issues involved; this the
officers and men seemed clearly to realize. Under such conditions all
were impatient of the restraint. To the brave soldier going into
battle, knowing he must go, the moments seem to lengthen. This feeling
is not born of his love for fighting, but it is rather the nervous
anxiety to determine the momentous issue as quickly as possible,
without stopping to count the cost, realizing if it must be done, "it
were well it were done quickly." Over-confidence pervaded the
Confederate army, from the commanding general down to the shakiest
private in the ranks. Too much over-confidence was the bane of our
battle. For more than six long hours the men were waiting, listening
for the sound of the signal guns. The stillness was at last broken: the
shot was fired: down, according to program, went the men on their
faces.
Now began the most terrible artillery duel that beyond question
ever took place on the American continent, or, the writer believes,
anywhere else. Never had a storm so dreadful burst upon mortal
man. The atmosphere was rent and broken by the rush and crash of
projectiles--solid shot, shrieking, bursting shells. The sun but
a few minutes before so brilliant was now darkened. Through this
smoky darkness came the missiles of death, plowing great furrows of
destruction among our men, whole columns going down like grass before
the scythe. The scene of carnage and death beggars description. Not
for the world would the writer look upon such a sight again. In any
direction might be seen guns, swords, haversacks, heads, limbs, flesh
and bones in confusion or dangling in the air or bounding on the earth.
The ground shook as if in the throes of an earthquake. The teamsters,
two or more miles away, declared that the sash in the windows of
buildings where they were shook and chattered as if shaken by a violent
wind. Over us, in front, behind, in our midst, through our ranks and
everywhere, came death-dealing missiles. I am reminded by this awful
scene, produced by this fearful artillery fire, of the remark made by
Colonel Stephen D. Lee, commanding Confederate artillery at Sharpsburg,
to one of his artillery officers after the battle: "Sharpsburg was
artillery hell." Be this as it may, the artillery fire at Sharpsburg
was not comparable to that of the third day at Gettysburg. During all
this nearly two hours of horror the men remained steadfast at their
posts--excepting those who had not been knocked out of place by shell
and shot.
It must not be supposed that men were not alarmed, for doubtless many a
poor fellow thought his time had come--and pray? Yes, great big,
stout-hearted men prayed, loudly, too, and they were in earnest, for if
men ever had need of the care and protection of our Heavenly Father, it
was now.
The position was a trying one, indeed; much more so than had we been
engaged in close combat, and quite as perilous, for then we should not
have felt so much the terrible strain, could we have rendered blow for
blow; but it was as if we were placed where we were for target practice
for the Union batteries. To the left of my position, and not thirty
feet away, eight men were killed or wounded by one shot, while still
nearer to me a solid shot trounced a man, lifting him three feet from
the earth, killing him but not striking him. Many of the shots causing
much damage were from enfilading fire from a Union battery at the
Cemetery.
I feel confident in stating that not less than 300 of Pickett's men
were killed or injured by artillery fire.
[Illustration: Corporal Jesse B. Young]
Near 2:50 P.M., as the artillery fire had practically ceased, there
came the order, "Fall in!" and brave General Pickett, coming close by
where I lay wounded, called out: "Up, men, and to your posts! Don't
forget today that you are from old Virginia!" The effect of this word
upon the men was electrical. The regiments were quickly in line,
closing to the left over the dead and wounded--the ranks now reduced
by the losses occasioned by the shelling to about 4,400 men of the
division, and I am satisfied that Kemper's brigade, the smallest of the
division, did not then number over 1,250. The advance now began, the
men calling out to the wounded and others: "Goodbye, boys! Goodbye!"
Unable to move, I could not accompany this advance--did not see, hear,
observe or know what thereafter happened only from the statement of
others. I will not attempt to state, but for a reasonable and fair
report thereof will give the published statement of an intelligent
Union soldier (a Massachusetts man) who observed the movement of
Pickett's division, which is as follows:
"But what is Gettysburg, either in its first day's Federal defeat,
or its second day's terrible slaughter around Little Round Top,
without the third day's immortal charge by Pickett and his brave
Virginians! * * * Then Pickett and his brave legions stood up
and formed for the death struggle: three remnants of brigades,
consisting of Garnett's--the 8th, 18th, 19th, 28th and 56th
Virginia; Armistead's brigade--the 9th, 14th, 38th, 53d, 57th
Virginia; Kemper's brigade--1st, 3d, 7th, 11th, 24th Virginia.
Their tattered flags bore the scars of a score of battles, and
from their ranks the merciless bullet had already taken two-thirds
their number. In compact ranks: their front scarcely covering
two of Hancock's brigades, with flags waiving as if for a gala
day. * * * It was nearly a mile to the Union lines, and as they
advanced over the open plain the Federal artillery opened again,
plowing great lanes through their solid ranks, but they closed
up to guide center, as if upon dress parade. When half way over,
Pickett halted his division amidst a terrible fire of shot and
shell, and changed his direction by an oblique movement, coolly
and beautifully made. * * * To those who have ever faced artillery
fire it is marvellous and unexplainable how human beings could have
advanced under the terrific fire of a hundred cannon, every inch
of air being laden with the missiles of death; but in splendid
formation they still came bravely on till within range of the
musketry; then the blue line of Hancock's corps arose and poured
into their ranks a murderous fire. With a wild yell the rebels
pushed on, unfalteringly, crossed the Federal lines and laid hands
upon eleven cannon.
"Men fired into each other's faces; there were bayonet thrusts,
cutting with sabres, hand-to-hand contests, oaths, curses, yells
and hurrahs. The Second corps fell back behind the guns to allow
the use of grape and double cannister, and as it tore through the
rebel ranks at only a few paces distant, the dead and wounded were
piled in ghastly heaps; still on they came up to the very muzzles
of their guns; they were blown away from the cannon's mouth, but
yet they did not waiver. Pickett had taken the key to the position,
and the glad shout of victory was heard, as, the very impersonation
of a soldier, he still forced his troops to the crest of Cemetery
Ridge. Kemper and Armistead broke through Hancock's line, scaled
the hill and planted their flags on its crest. Just before
Armistead was shot, he placed his flag upon a captured cannon and
cried: 'Give them the cold steel, boys!' But valor could do no
more, the handful of braves had won immortality, but could not
conquer an army. * * * Pickett, seeing his supports gone, his
Generals Kemper, Armistead and Garnett killed or wounded, every
field officer of three brigades gone, three-fourths of his men
killed or captured, himself untouched, but broken-hearted, gave
the order for retreat, but, band of heroes as they were, they fled
not; but amidst that still continuous, terrible fire, they slowly,
sullenly, recrossed the plain--all that was left of them, but few
of five thousand."
Pickett's division was the only organized body of Confederates that
crossed the stone fence. In a letter of General Kemper to me he gives a
short description, and but brief, of this wonderful charge, in which he
states: "I think General Garnett and myself were the only officers of
Pickett's division who went into the battle mounted and remained
mounted until shot down. My recollection is that I fell just about the
time our men began to give back. I was close enough to the enemy to
distinguish features and expressions of faces, and thought I observed
and could identify the individual who shot me. Quickly afterwards a
Federal officer, with several of his men, took possession of me,
placing me on a blanket, started to carry me, as he said, to a Federal
surgeon, when some of our men, firing over my body, recaptured me and
carried me to our rear.
"As to how the three brigades of our division advanced in line of
battle when the artillery ceased firing; as to how the gaps were
closed up as men fell and the general alignment was well preserved;
as to the cul-de-sac of death, our unsupported, or very badly supported
division was hurled into; as to the last unavailing grapple with the
overwhelming numbers of the enemy: all these are matters about which
you doubtless know as much as I do."
As already stated, it was 1,430 yards from our position to that
occupied by the Union infantry; it was practically open field. It was
the longest charge in open ground under heavy fire that our troops were
ever required to make. Indeed, this was the most remarkable charge made
in the annals of warfare.
The Union army, under General Burnside, at the Battle of Fredericksburg
against Marye's Hill, made as many as fourteen distinct charges as
brave and gallant as were ever made by any soldiers, at some points
leaving their dead within a few yards of the Confederate lines, but
each time repulsed with heavy loss, but the fact must not be overlooked
that these charging columns had fairly good cover to within four
hundred yards of the Confederate line.
Had the Confederate assaulting column had a shorter run with protected
cover, it is almost certain that the Union lines would have been
broken, the Federal army cut in twain, forced to rapid retreat to avoid
capture or destruction. Again, it is manifest that had the Federal army
been in the open on the third day as on the first and for most part on
the second day, General Meade's Union army would have been crushed. As
it was, in a well-protected position, and the battle well conducted by
General Meade, he barely escaped defeat--too badly crippled to promptly
pursue the Confederates.
General Meade was a good soldier, and the Union army of the Potomac
made a splendid fight. No doubt General Meade and the Army of the
Potomac were proud of their achievement at Gettysburg, for they had
been hammered so much and so often by the Army of Northern Virginia
that they doubtless expected the same old bill of fare. A little relief
was comforting; the other fellows were now sore, for Gettysburg battle
was a sad and gloomy one for the Army of Northern Virginia and the
Confederacy, but the survivors had not lost their old-time spirit; they
soon recuperated, and were themselves again ready for the fray.
In the battles from the Rapidan to the James in the Spring and Summer
of 1864, the soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia showed that they
had not lost their old-time spirit, pluck, and fighting qualities, and
if the more than twenty thousand men lost by General Lee at Gettysburg
had been with him in the Wilderness, in the Spring of 1864, General
Grant would not have reached the James by that route. At Gettysburg
General Meade had about 105,000 men; General Lee about 62,000. These
figures are given by Colonel Taylor, a member of General Lee's staff,
and adjutant-general of the army, taken, as he states, from the
official records. General Meade himself states his strength not less
than 95,000 men. The Federal loss was 23,049; Confederate, 20,451.
The loss in Pickett's division was 2,888; in Kemper's brigade, 58
killed, 356 wounded and 317 captured. In the 7th Virginia regiment the
loss was 67. In Company D, David C. Akers, Daniel Bish, Jesse Barrett
and John P. Sublett were killed; Lieutenant E. R. Walker and E. M.
Stone, Sergeant Taylor and myself, Corporal Young, Privates William C.
Fortner, James H. Fortner, J. J. Hurt, John F. Jones (leg amputated),
John Meadows, W. W. Muncey and D. L. Sarver, wounded, and John W. Hight
captured; total 17--over sixty per cent of the number led into action.
By this statement it will be seen that my Company D came out of the
Battle of Gettysburg with but 11 men. J. B. Young belonged to the color
guard of the 7th regiment. The color bearer, Lieutenant Watson, with
his guards, eight sergeants and corporals going into the battle were
all either killed or wounded. Our colors fell into the hands of the 82d
New York infantry, commanded by Captain John Darrow. Corporal Young was
the eighth man who had the colors during the fight, carrying them
within a few feet of the enemy's line behind the stone fence, where he
was wounded and captured. The colors were then taken by ---- Tolbert, a
mere boy of ours, who bore them forward to the stone fence, where he
intended to plant them, but was shot in the head. The colors were then
grabbed by the man who fired the shot and carried back into the Union
lines.
The loss in officers in Pickett's division was something fearful to
contemplate. General Garnett was killed, Armistead mortally and Kemper
dangerously wounded. Of the whole complement of generals and field
officers, aggregating about 48, only one lieutenant-colonel was left.
The division was nearly annihilated. General Kemper fell into the
enemy's hands in field hospital the second day after he was wounded. So
bad was his wound, and he was believed to be so near death, that a
coffin was prepared for him, which he refused to use. He survived, and
afterwards became Governor of Virginia, serving with distinction and
much honor from his countrymen. During his gubernatorial term he
carried in his hip a leaden bullet of standard weight and size.
Of the wounded in Company D, Lieutenant Stone, Corporal Young, Privates
William C. Fortner, James H. Fortner, Jones, Hurt and the writer fell
into the hands of the enemy; Stone, Young, William C. Fortner, Jones
and Hurt on the field; James H. Fortner and the writer the second day
thereafter in the field hospital. Several of the men of Company D in
the charge went over the stone wall, only a few getting back, among
them Sergeant Taylor, and he wounded. Thomas N. Mustain, a valiant
soldier, transferred from Company D to the 57th Virginia regiment, went
over the stone wall, and while lying under the captured Union batteries
was severely wounded in the neck.
Company E of the 7th regiment had four men--Alec Legg, John Canady,
Willis Welch and Joseph Welch--killed during the artillery duel by the
explosion of a shell. The company carried into the charge but one
officer, Lieutenant Stone, and seventeen men, all of whom except one
man were killed, wounded or captured.
Recurring to the wounding of myself at the closing of the artillery
duel, I was at my post on the left of the regiment, which threw me
under the shade of a friendly apple tree which chanced to stand there.
I lay down near Colonel Mayo, of the 3d regiment, and Colonel Patton of
the 7th, near the feet of the latter. A little before the artillery
fire ceased, a Union battery at the Cemetery on our left front had on
us an enfilading fire with accurate range, which threw shell and solid
shot into our ranks. A shell from this battery struck the heads of two
men of the 3d regiment, taking them off above the ears, exploding
almost on me, not only killing the two men and wounding me, but also
wounding Lieutenant Brown of the 7th regiment, and another, who lay
close on my right. Just a moment before this shell came, I had raised
my head up to get, if possible, a breath of fresh air, whereupon
Lieutenant Brown said to me: "You had better put your head down or you
may get it knocked off." I replied: "A man had about as well die that
way as to suffocate for want of air." The words had scarcely escaped my
lips when the shell exploded, which for a few moments deprived me of my
breath and sensibility; I found myself lying off from the position I
was in when struck, gasping for breath. My ribs on left side were
broken, some fractured, left lung badly contused, and left limbs and
side paralyzed. My Colonel Patton, sprang to his feet inquiring if I
was badly hurt. I asked for water, the first thing a wounded man wants,
and the Colonel had it brought to me. The marvel is that I escaped the
explosion of that shell without being torn to shreds. Harry Snidow and
another of my old company brought a blanket, placing it at the base of
the apple tree, where they set me up against the tree. Just then the
order came for the men to fall in for the charge, which has already
been described. Colonel Mayo, after the war, describing this day's
battle and the part taken by our division, refers to me as "one left
for dead under that apple tree." I still live, while the brave and good
Colonel has passed to the Great Beyond.
In a few minutes after the men moved forward, the "litter bearers"
picked me up and bore me back into the woods to our field hospital,
where our surgeons, Drs. Oliver and Worthington, did for me all in
their power. About dark I was removed by ambulance to the shed of a
farmer's barn, a mile or more away, on Willoughby Run, to the place
where General Kemper had been removed, the farmer placing him in his
dwelling house. I visited this same house twenty-two years later, where
I saw distinctly the stains of General Kemper's blood on the floor.
The shed in which I was placed was filled with the wounded and dying.
Throughout that long night and until a little before dawn, I spoke to
no one, and no one to me, never closed my eyes in sleep; the surgeons
close by being engaged in removing the limbs of those necessary to be
amputated, and all night long I heard nothing but the cries of the
wounded and the groans of the dying, the agonies of General Kemper, who
lay near by, being frequently heard. Everything in the barn was dark,
but near dawn I discovered a flickering light advancing toward me: it
was borne by John W. Grubb, of our regiment, who had been sent by our
surgeon to look after me. Comrade Grubb was very kind to me, preparing
for me a day or two later a bed and shelter in the orchard, to which I
was removed, but he was taken away a prisoner by the Federals.
During the morning of Sunday many of our wounded men were brought in,
among them Captain John H. Parr, adjutant of the 7th regiment, and
Lieutenant Lewis Bane of the 24th regiment. Some of these wounded men
died during the day.
During Sunday night and the following day the Confederate army was
withdrawing from the field. Our brigade surgeon, Dr. Morton, and
General Early made visits to the field hospital, urging all the men
able to ride in wagons to go, of which a goodly number availed
themselves. Shortly after the Confederate rear guard had passed the
field hospital where I was, the Federal advance guard appeared, the
Federal surgeons taking charge of us.
Lee's army continued the retreat into Virginia, and I did not join my
command for service for four months after, at Taylorsville.
Chapter XIX
Sketches and Incidents While a Wounded Prisoner.
How Long in the Field Hospital.
The Walk to Gettysburg and Kindness Shown Me by a Federal Captain.
In Box Cars and Ride to Baltimore.
What Occurred in Baltimore.
To Chester, Pa.
Dr. Schafer and Another.
Paroled and Back to Dixie.
The Federal surgeon who took charge of us in the field hospital at
Gettysburg made an examination of my wound and gave instructions that I
should receive no solid food, but be fed lemonade and spirits. Up to
this time and for days subsequent I wanted no food, having no desire
for it. A Union soldier from Ohio was my nurse, who treated me with
kindness. This soldier would get the daily Philadelphia newspapers and
read to me the war news. Among other things, that Lee's army, badly
broken, was making rapid retreat for Virginia; that the loyal Potomac
was at high tide, could not be crossed; that General Meade's army was
pushing the Confederates, would soon be up with them; then the
following day he read that Lee's army was around Williamsport, could
not get away; that Meade's army was now up and preparing for attack,
only waiting the arrival of food supplies and ammunition. When
receiving these papers and reading to me, the soldier's face was all
aglow with joyous expression, to which he gave voice by saying: "The
rebels will all be captured and that will end the war." To this I could
only smile inwardly. July 13 my nurse, with his paper and a smile, came
to read me the news. I was prepared for the worst--but when he read, it
was that General Meade was now up, fully ready, and the attack would be
made tomorrow, when Lee and his army would be captured, or driven into
the river. Morning came, and the nurse and his paper, but as he
approached I noted quite a change in his expression; he read, when
General Meade moved out to attack the rebel army, behold! "the old fox
had gone," having crossed the river the night before!
July 20 we were ordered to be removed from the field hospital, but to
what place we did not know. A Union captain of Pennsylvania, with a
squad of soldiers, conducted us to the railway station at Gettysburg
nearly a mile away. I should not have gone, as the journey came near
finishing me up. The captain was exceedingly kind, affording me all the
help in his power. The whole of the wounded squad was put aboard box
cars at night, landing in Baltimore at dawn, I more dead than alive. I
felt sure, as the rough train rolled along, that I was near death. John
H. Peck, of the 24th Virginia, who had a wound in the head, was with
us, and by encouragement and otherwise rendered me much assistance.
In Baltimore the cars were run up far into the city, where we left the
train, being immediately surrounded by a cordon of soldiers and police,
with a number of ladies, men and boys, who endeavored to supply us with
food, but were beaten off by the guards, who quickly landed us inside
the high plank fence surrounding the grounds of West Building Hospital.
The ladies again renewed their efforts to supply us with food by
tossing it over the high fence, but were repulsed by the soldiers'
bayonets--which we still think was a mean act. With James H. Fortner,
of my company, who had a severe flesh wound in the thigh, I lay down
beside the fence in the shade, unable to move further. In an hour or
less an order came to get into ranks. Neither Fortner nor myself moved,
being determined to remain and take chances. Fortunate for us that we
remained, for the poor fellows who marched away landed in Point Lookout
prison; the men seriously wounded, however, being sent to hospital at
Chester, Pennsylvania, I among the number, with Fortner. I had
requested Fortner to remain with me, for should I die he could inform
my people. After comrades had marched away, Fortner and I dragged
ourselves into the hospital building, lying down on the bare floor.
During the evening two ladies came in where we were, one of whom
inquired: "Where are you from?" "Virginia," I answered. "Then you
are not more than half rebels." Replying, I said: "Well, I am a
full-blooded rebel, whatever the people of Virginia may be." From
their constant glances at each other and toward the door, and from
the expressions on their faces, I was well satisfied that at heart
they were true Southern spirits, angels of mercy, and had used the
above language to us fearing the walls had ears. Presently one inquired
if we wanted anything to eat, and being told we would be glad to have
milk, they furnished it and departed.
That night we were placed on cots near each other, in a clean, airy
room. Fortner, in endeavoring to assist me to rise, fell on his wounded
leg, which caused him great pain. The second night thereafter, we were
placed in box cars, passing next day through Wilmington, Delaware,
where a curious, motley crowd gathered to see us; they peeped and
peered at us as if astonished that we did not have hoofs and horns.
That evening we reached Chester, on the Delaware, where we were placed
in hospital (now Crozer Theological Seminary). Here we met a number of
the men we had parted from in Baltimore, among them John H. Peck and J.
B. Young, the latter of Company D. The surgeon of our ward was Dr.
Schafer of Philadelphia, who was kind to us. He, however, soon went
away, being succeeded by a doctor from Franklin County--a Virginia
renegade, who was insulting, mean and cowardly, and the wounded gave
him many a hard thrust.
While in this hospital several ladies and gentlemen from the State of
Connecticut came into the ward, engaging me in conversation about the
war, saying among other things that the South in seceding was wrong and
unjustifiable, that the proper course, or that which should have been
pursued, was to fight in the Union. To which I replied that they were
in some respects much like many of the Northern people who encouraged
the South to take action, that they would be with us, but when the test
came were found on the other side. Again, that I could not see well how
we could remain in the Union and at the same time try to strangle and
destroy the government of which we claimed to be a part; that it was
certain, had we done so and been overthrown, we would have been
traitors sure enough and most likely have gone to the gibbet.
After a stay at Chester of thirty days or less, all who desired to go
South were paroled, I among the number, and were transported by boat to
City Point, thence by rail to Richmond. The authorities ordered us to
Camp Lee, a Confederate recruiting station near the city. This we did
not like, and a few of us determined to go home, or to our commands,
and we made the start, but were halted a little way out of the city
by some local troops, who charged us with an effort to desert. We
explained the situation, but this did not satisfy them. I met with a
Confederate enrolling officer, who kindly took me home with him, giving
me written pass to my command, then in camp on the Rapidan, whither I
went, and was quite a surprise to Drs. Morton and Worthington and my
comrades, who told me that they supposed me dead. Dr. Morton, who was
wearing a soft felt black hat, said to me: "When I left you in the
field hospital at Gettysburg I never expected to see you again in life.
You were as black in the face as this hat." I soon had furlough and
went home, where I remained until the first of November, when I learned
I had been exchanged, and at once left to rejoin my command.
I forgot to relate an incident worthy of mention, at least to me. In
the hospital at Chester, when Dr. Schafer already referred to examined
me, he said: "Young man, do you know you are nearly dead?" I gasped for
breath, saying: "I think it quite possible." Placing a small bottle of
something within my reach, he charged me to take of this when inclined
to cough, without waiting until the coughing began, for he said: "If
you have a spell of coughing you would surely die of hemorrhage in ten
minutes." He then procured for me a nurse, an Irishman, the father of
two sons in the Union army, who had been in the Battle of Shiloh, Tenn.
In speaking fondly of these boys he wept like a child. Fortunate it was
that I fell into the hands of this kindly-hearted man, for a mother
could not have cared more tenderly for her son than he did for me. Such
cases confirm the fact that human sympathy asserts itself even in the
rancors of war.
Chapter XX
Return to My Command.
Long Stay at Taylorsville in November and December, 1863, and Part of
January, 1864.
Dr. Blackwell's Address.
Our Second North Carolina Campaign.
General and Mrs. Pickett and Baby George.
Back in Virginia.
The Advance to Newbern.
Capture and Execution of Deserters.
In Camp at Goldsboro.
Shooting a Confederate Deserter.
The Shoemaker's Letter.
Wilmington and Mouth of Cape Fear.
Return and to Tarboro.
The Capture of Plymouth, N.C.
To Washington and Newbern.
Return to Virginia.
I joined my command, then at Taylorsville, Virginia, whither it had
been sent to rendezvous and recruit, at the same time guarding the
bridges over the North and South Anna rivers. Our long stay at
Taylorsville during the months of November and December, 1863, and for
part of January, 1864, gave ample opportunity to discuss the serious
aspect of affairs. We had received a stunning blow at Gettysburg,
evidenced by the absence forever of brave men whose places could not be
supplied. Naturally the query was often made, how long will the war
last? When will it end? What are our prospects for success? Will it
continue until the last man falls? What do the Northern people mean? Is
it their intention to subjugate the states, and overthrow the citadel
of liberty itself? They call us rebels--can a sovereign be a rebel?
We had been taught that the states were sovereign and that their
governments were instituted to secure certain inalienable rights, with
which their Creator had endowed them--among these, life, liberty and
the pursuit of happiness, and that the security of all these resided
with the states and the people thereof, and not with their Federal
agent. These and many other matters were discussed, and the general
conclusion arrived at was: we will have to fight it out.
In the last days of November, the Federal army, under General Meade,
crossed the Rapidan, making a feint as if to attack the Army of
Northern Virginia, but instead re-crossed the river, seeming to have
crossed for no other purpose than to cross back again. We had orders to
be ready to go to General Lee's aid.
While at Taylorsville the Rev. Dr. Blackwell, who had resided in the
cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth, Virginia, during General Butler's
reign of terror therein, delivered to our brigade a lecture on Butler,
his troops, and the noble women of those cities. After describing the
insults of the Federal soldiery, and the sacrifices and heroic conduct
of the women, he pronounced upon them an eulogy, a part only of which
is recalled, and is now here reproduced; he began by saying:
"Woman is lovely, but not a goddess. We call her angel, but she has
no wings to soar quite beyond the bounds of terrene. She is the
loveliest form of beauty known to earth, and presents the purest
type of that sweet companionship that awaits us in the bright land
of the hereafter; but still she is flesh and blood, loves to steal
from the bowers of her paradise and dwell with men, mingle in the
common concerns and partake of the common infirmities of the human
race. As the graceful vine entwines itself around the sturdy oak
when riven by the lightnings of Heaven, so she, though the feebler,
gentler sex, is the prop upon which the sterner sex in the midst of
revolution often leans for repose. * * * And when the history of
this revolution is fully written, these noble women will stand in
the front ranks of that illustrious galaxy of Southern females
whose heroic acts and beauteous deeds have illuminated our Heavens,
and thrown a halo of fadeless glory around the noble women of
Norfolk and Portsmouth."
Our General Pickett was married, as I now recall, in September, 1863,
in Petersburg, Virginia, to Miss Corbell, a lovely, highly cultivated
Virginia woman who occasionally rode with the General through our
camps, attending the division review. Later, when Baby George arrived,
he was exhibited in the camps, the soldiers eagerly fondling him; nor
was his linen as spotless or his humor as sweet when handed back to his
mother or nurse as when the boys received him.
The General and boy have both passed to the Great Beyond, but the
lovely wife and mother still lives to brighten the memories of husband
and son, the noble dead of the division, and to cheer the hearts of the
brave men who counted it the honor of their lives to have marched with
the noble Pickett, made famous for all time to come by his charge at
Gettysburg, now celebrated in song and literature.
Our rations were not abundant while at Taylorsville; one pint of
unsieved meal and a quarter of a pound of bacon per day. Coffee was
made of parched wheat rye, and sometimes of rice when we had it.
Occasionally the men managed to get turnips or potatoes, of which they
made fairly good soup. There was so little of the bacon that we could
not afford to fry it, so we generally ate it raw, with an ash or Johnny
cake; we had but few cooking utensils, and had need of few.
Religious services were held when possible; the weather for the most
part was too inclement to have open air services, and we had no church.
Such services as were had were generally in the messes, or conducted in
the quarters of J. Tyler Frazier, to which all were invited.
Being under orders to march, our preparations therefor completed, we
took up the movement January 20, going through Richmond and Petersburg,
where we were put aboard cars and transported to Goldsboro, N.C.,
remaining there a few days. Leaving camp at Goldsboro January 29, we
proceeded to Kinston, on the Neuse River, thence through the swamps and
bogs, crossing the Trent River to the vicinity of Newbern, N.C., where
we made some captures of prisoners and stores, and blew up a Federal
gunboat lying in the river, under the forts, which was accomplished by
Colonel Wood, with his marines. A section of 3d New York artillery--two
guns--was captured, together with several hundred prisoners, among them
35 or more of the 2d Loyal North Carolina regiment, who had been
soldiers in our army, deserted, and joined the enemy. These men were
recognized and sent back under guard to Kinston.
Our people found Newbern better prepared for defense than was
anticipated, and after some strong reconnaissances on all the roads,
gathering up all the supplies within reach that could be transported,
at dark, February 3, we silently folded our tents and stole away,
floundering all night along through the swamps and mud, crossing the
Trent a little after dawn. During the night we passed through extensive
turpentine orchards, which the men set fire to, and by the light of
which many sloughs were avoided. Our movement continued until Kinston
was reached, where we rested a few days.
The next day after reaching Kinston the court-martial was convened for
the trial of the thirty-five deserters referred to, who had been
captured wearing United States uniforms and with guns in their hands,
fighting under the flag of the enemy. The guilt of twenty-two of them
being fully established, they were sentenced to be hanged; the sentence
being approved by the department commander, was carried into execution
a few days thereafter in the vicinity of our camp: a gruesome piece of
business, which duty did not require me to witness.
About the middle of February we moved on westward to Goldsboro. Rations
were still short, and there was some complaint by the farmers of the
loss of hogs. This complaint was not without foundation, for fresh pork
was found in some of the camps, and the offenders punished, a penalty,
as the writer believes, not deserved. Most of these charges were made
against the 24th Virginia regiment, one against some of the teamsters
of our regiment. A member of Company D was charged with being the
informant, though he helped eat the hog, but whether the charge was
true or false, the informant made the disclosure in order to get a
furlough, which he received, but never came back--deserted. This same
informant had been wounded at the second battle of Manassas, and on his
return to the command at Goldsboro claimed that he was not able for
service, taking up lodgings with some of the teamsters. He wrote a
letter to General Lee, which ran about as follows:
"Dear General: I am a member of Company D, 7th Virginia Infantry. I
was wounded at the second battle of Manassas and am unfit for duty
in the field. I am a pretty fair shoemaker, and if I can be
detailed, I am willing to render all the services I can."
General Lee transmitted the letter to the regiment and the men had a
good deal of fun out of ----. Soon after he became informant as to hog
stealing, got the furlough, and deserted, as above stated--good
riddance to bad rubbish.
A member of Company B, 7th regiment, who was under death sentence for
desertion, was kept under strict guard with ball and chain. Late one
evening an order came for his execution the next day. I carried the
order to the officer of the guard, whose instructions were to double
the guard and see that their guns were loaded. The condemned man's
brother was a member of the guard, who, on ascertaining that his
brother was to be shot the next day, requested that I send Rev. J.
Tyler Frazier to see him. Frazier happened to be out of the camp; as
soon as he returned, I accompanied him to see the man, but he refused
to listen to Mr. Frazier; in fact, the man did not believe he would be
shot until the next morning when the wagon drove up with his coffin and
he was required to ride thereon to the place of execution, where he
died from the fire of a platoon of men of his own command.
March 5 we moved by rail to Wilmington, thence by steamer to
Smithfield, near the mouth of the Cape Fear River. The 24th regiment
was sent to garrison Forts Caswell and Campbell, while we remained in
camp near Smithfield.
I find in a letter written by me from Smithfield, March 14, the
following: "It has been nine days since our brigade arrived at this
place. One regiment, the 24th, has been sent to garrison Forts Caswell
and Campbell. I have just returned from a visit to the former. We
crossed over in an open boat, the distance being two miles. There was
quite a lively time at the forts this morning, when the blockade runner
'Lucy,' in attempting to run in, was beached, the enemy making attempt
to capture her, but he was driven off by our batteries."
[Illustration: Lieut. Thomas S. Taylor]
Here oysters were cheap and readily procured, the men cooking them in
various ways. Some roasted them in the shell, some ate them raw, and
some mixed them in corn dough and baked them. We did not like the coast
and longed for our Virginia hills. Under orders we left Smithfield
aboard a steamer for Wilmington. The river was full of torpedoes and we
were in dread of being blown up. The situation was in some measure
relieved by Bill Dean and his Glee Club, who sang: "Oh! Carry Me Back
to Old Virginia Once More."
Wilmington was reached Saturday, the 26th, where the ground was covered
with a light snow, which increased in depth as we receded from the
coast. We moved by rail from Wilmington to Goldsboro, where we went
into camp until Friday, the first of April, when the march was again
taken up through snow and mud to Tarboro, thence through Greenville,
crossing over to the waters of the Roanoke, to the vicinity of
Plymouth, N.C., where on the 18th a portion of Hoke's brigade (21st
Georgia regiment), assailed late in the evening an outlying fort, in
which assault Colonel Mercer was killed and the assault repulsed. Later
the same evening this fort was surrounded by a portion of our brigade
with a cloud of sharpshooters and artillery, which prevented the
garrison from handling their guns, and the fort finally surrendered.
The investing force of the town were the brigades of Ransom, Hoke and
Terry, formerly Kemper's.
Sergeant William Parrott of Charlottesville and I that night bore a
flag of truce to the enemy's lines, under which demand for the
surrender of the town was made, but refused. During the night the
Confederate iron clad ram "Albemarle" came down the Roanoke River and
aided in the assault next morning, when the enemy's works and the town
were carried, the garrison surrendering when all hope of successful
resistance was gone. Our brigade was moved across the Washington road,
whereon the enemy was attempting to escape. In this movement we were
brought under the fire of the heavy guns in the forts, which at close
range gave us a severe shelling, whereby quite a number of men of the
brigade were injured--a few in our regiment--but two in Company D--A.
L. Fry and John W. East--slightly wounded. Soon after occupying the
road referred to and close up to the enemy's entrenchments, there came
at a headlong run up to our line, and before he discovered us, a big,
black, burly negro soldier, the first of his kind we had seen. The
negro was so badly frightened that had it been possible he would have
changed his color.
The fruits of this victory, at comparatively small cost, were the
Federal commander, General Wessels, and 1,600 prisoners, besides
about 700 negroes, 2,000 small arms, and valuable quartermaster and
commissary stores, the capture and sinking of one or more Federal
gunboats. From the commissary and sutler's stores the men obtained
bountiful supplies of food, underwear, boots and shoes. The Federal
loss in this battle, other than prisoners, artillery and stores already
mentioned, was 41 killed and 59 wounded. The Confederate loss, 124
killed and 174 wounded. Our enjoyment was but brief, however, for that
evening we took the road to Washington, a town at the head of Pamlico
Sound, marching rapidly, so that by night we were in the neighborhood
of our destination, which early next morning General Hoke was preparing
to invest, when it was discovered that the enemy had evacuated it;
disgracing themselves and their flag before their departure by arson
and pillage.
General Hoke, determined to push his successes, marched immediately
upon Newbern, demanding its surrender, which, being refused, he was
preparing to carry by assault, when he was directed to hasten to the
relief of Petersburg, now threatened by a strong Federal army under
General Butler.
At Tarboro, B. L. Hoge was taken sick and sent to hospital, and J. B.
Croy had been sent on detached service to the Blackwater region. How
many of Company D were on this expedition to Plymouth, Washington and
Newbern, I am unable to state, but I know the company had been much
reduced in numbers. Lieutenant Stone was still a prisoner at Fort
Delaware, Lieutenant Walker, disabled at Gettysburg, had been retired;
Captain Bane and Lieutenant Mullins were the only commissioned officers
with us.
In May, 1864, the Federal General Butler landed at City Point, on the
James, with an army of more than 25,000 men, and feeling his way
carefully and slowly toward Petersburg, had on the 9th reached Swift
Creek, three miles north of the city. Confronting him was General
Pickett, with a small number of Carolina troops, and a few pieces of
artillery. Pickett kept his men so well in hand and so maneuvered as to
conceal from his adversary his real weakness. In this situation and
while the Confederates were far away, near Newbern, with the Federals
threatening Richmond and Petersburg, General Hoke, in front of Newbern,
received an order to repair with haste to Petersburg. About dark on May
6 we left the front of Newbern, the head of the column directed for
Petersburg, about 175 miles away. The 1st Virginia had hastened through
to Kinston, where it obtained railroad transportation, which carried it
to Jarrett's, twenty miles south of Petersburg. Our column, taking a
bee line, moved night and day, having to halt occasionally at the
tidewater streams to build bridges out of round logs thrown into the
water and fastened together with grapevines. Reaching Stony Creek,
twenty miles or more south of Petersburg, we found the railroad bridge
destroyed by the Federal cavalry. The situation at Petersburg was so
pressing as to demand the presence of the troops without delay. All the
rolling stock of every kind of the railroad at that point was rushed to
meet us, and we boarded the cars just wherever we met them. By 11
o'clock Thursday, May 12, we were in the city, and General Butler had
lost his opportunity. Never before had we done such marching. Mr. D. H.
Hill, in his Confederate Military History of North Carolina, page 248,
speaking of this march of General Hoke from Newbern to Petersburg,
says: "This march of General Hoke's troops stands at West Point as the
most rapid movement of troops on record."
Apparently the whole populace, men, women and children, of Petersburg
had gathered to welcome us, their deliverers from the presence and hand
of General Butler, whose notoriety in New Orleans, Norfolk and
Portsmouth had won for him the appellation "Beast Butler," a reputation
world-wide. General Butler was, therefore, regarded by these people as
a menace to the safety of property and helpless women and children.
This is why everybody in Petersburg shouted for joy when we entered the
city and marched across the Appomattox to interpose between them and
Butler's troops. We went forward to Swift Creek, taking position on the
east side of the turnpike road in front of the enemy's skirmishers. The
shades of night now having fallen, we lay on our arms, discovering next
morning by the advance of our skirmishers that the enemy had withdrawn
from our front, whereupon we proceeded along the road leading to
Richmond, the rear guard being fired upon as we passed the "Halfway
House." Reaching the outer defenses of Dreury's Bluff, our brigade, now
commanded by Brigadier-General W. R. Terry, was placed in battle line
on the west side of the aforesaid turnpike road, facing south--having
by the day's march placed ourselves between the enemy and Richmond.
Chapter XXI
Battle of Dreury's Bluff.
The Forces Engaged.
Casualties.
The Pursuit of General Butler's Troops.
Bombardment at Howlett's House.
The Wounding of Lieutenant John W. Mullins.
His Death.
Withdrawal from Howlett's House.
General Beauregard, in command of the department, arrived on the
morning of the 14th, having passed with a cavalry escort entirely
around the enemy's left. About noon of the 15th we were moved to an
inner line of defenses, which shortened the line to be defended; thus
was made necessary by the smallness of our force, for it appears that
the Confederates had only 13,000 men with which to meet Butler's
40,000. This Confederate force was divided, two or three brigades
remaining at Petersburg under General Whiting. No help could be had
from the Army of Northern Virginia, then engaged in desperate struggle
at Spottsylvania, with the Federal Army of the Potomac.
It was made known to us on the evening of the 15th that at a council of
war held by General Beauregard and his subordinates it had been
determined to attack General Butler's army next morning at daylight,
and that the division of General Ransom, to which our brigade (Terry's)
belonged, was to lead the attack. Late in the day, Sunday, we marched
toward the James River to a point overlooking Kingsland Creek, behind
which, on the higher ground beyond, the enemy was in line of battle in
force, sheltered by temporary log breastworks, a small body of
Confederate cavalry guarding the Confederate left. Being supplied with
sixty rounds of cartridges, we lay down in a skirt of timber near the
old stage road leading from Richmond to Petersburg, a little more than
three-fourths of a mile from the enemy's line. We were informed that we
should be up at 2 A.M., march forward and open the battle at daylight.
Some who had passed unscathed through the ordeal of a dozen battles
were to go down in this, among them the gallant boy Walker, of the 11th
regiment, who had borne aloft and planted on the enemy's works at
Gettysburg the flag of this regiment, having his horse killed under him
there and a number of bullets through his clothing.
To fight this battle of Dreury's Bluff was imperative, and to become
the assailants was a necessity, for if the enemy should maintain his
position then occupied in front of Dreury's Bluff (only seven miles
below Richmond) and General Grant continued his flank movement to the
James River until he formed a junction with General Butler, the fate of
Richmond, and most probably of the Confederacy, would have been decided
a year earlier; hence this battle, and the necessity of fighting it
successfully, which we did.
During the early part of the night preceding, I visited the artillery
company of Captain David A. French, from my county. Captain French was
absent that evening, the company under the command of his brave
Lieutenant D. W. Mason. Captain French arrived next day during the
progress of the battle. Lieutenant Mason led his company in the
thickest of the fight, sustaining his already brilliant record as a
brave soldier. Promptly at 2 A.M. on Monday, the 16th, we were roused
from our slumbers and quickly gotten into line, discarding all
baggage--indeed, everything that would make a noise calculated to
arouse the enemy. Stealing quietly out of the woods, we proceeded down
the old stage road, through a field, across Kingsland Creek, where we
halted, forming a line of battle. The Alabama brigade of General
Gracie, and the North Carolina brigade of General Hoke, formed the
front line, with Generals Terry's and Fry's commands four hundred yards
in rear, forming the second line. The assaulting force could not have
numbered four thousand men all told. What was in front of us we did not
know, being already enveloped by a dense fog. The columns now formed,
the brigade of Gracie led off, ours following at close distance. The
Federal skirmishers in their rifle pits, alarmed by the commands of our
officers, fired rapidly, but at random, as they could not see us on
account of the fog; but their fire aroused their main line of battle.
The ground over which the attacking column passed was a gradual ascent
from the creek bottom for a distance of three hundred yards to the
summit, then a slight descent for the same distance to the enemy's
battle line, the right of which rested on a swamp rendered almost
impenetrable on account of the water, thorns and brambles.
Terry's brigade, only forty or fifty yards in rear of Gracie's, reached
the summit almost as soon as Gracie's men, who, as well as ourselves,
became immediately exposed to the enemy's fire, which as yet was not
effective, for they could not see us, and now as the fire had opened,
the smoke therefrom, together with the dense fog, created a darkness in
which a man could not be seen a few yards away. General Terry had
halted his brigade on the summit, where it was receiving the enemy's
fire, now becoming more accurate, causing some of the companies on the
right to lie down. Colonel Flowerree, now commanding the 7th Virginia,
observing this, called out: "Stand up, men! Don't you see the balls are
striking the ground at your feet, and there is greater danger lying
down than standing up."
On our immediate right was Barton's brigade, commanded by Colonel Fry.
A part of Gracie's men had gotten close to the enemy's line, meeting
such stubborn resistance that they lay down and our brigade was ordered
forward. Now was the supreme moment. Such a deafening rebel yell! It
must have given every Yankee in the region roundabout a cold chill, for
to this day they say that hideous rebel yell was dreaded more than
bullets. Here on this summit we had stood in awful suspense for twenty
minutes or more, exposed to the enemy's fire. It was therefore a
positive relief to hear the word: "Forward!" And forward we went,
through fog, smoke and leaden hail. At each volley delivered by the
enemy, down went numbers of our men, and as yet not a man in our
brigade had fired a shot, anxious at least to see something to shoot
at, and to get to closer quarters.
The 7th Virginia held the left of the brigade line, overlapping by
three or more companies the left of Gracie's line. These companies in
the headlong rush saw nothing of Gracie's men, who had halted and laid
down. Now near the enemy's firing line, unable to get forward on
account of the swamp referred to, Captain Parr, Adjutant, took these
three companies by a double quick to a position on the right wing, but
before this could be accomplished the regiment had broken the enemy's
line--that of a New Jersey regiment of Heckman's brigade--and crossed
his breastworks, making a right wheel, uniting with the companies led
by Captain Parr, and struck the flank of the 27th Massachusetts
regiment, capturing its Colonel (Lee), together with its colors, a
large number of prisoners, including General Heckman, the brigade
commander, who was captured by Sergeant Blakey of F Company, who
surrendered his sword to Colonel Flowerree of our regiment. This
incident was witnessed by the writer. This wheel and attack upon the
enemy's flank and rear had relieved the pressure on the 1st, 11th and
24th regiments, which for some minutes before were engaged in a
hand-to-hand contest with the enemy behind their breastworks; indeed,
so close had they gotten that the men did not take time to return
ramrods to their thimbles, but ran down the cartridges, fired away,
filling the logs of the breastworks and trees with the ramrods. This
may be thought a fish story, but it is absolutely true. French's Giles
County battery of four guns already mentioned was on the field just to
our right and in the hottest of the battle, suffering loss in making a
brave fight.
The loss in the 1st, 11th and 24th regiments of our brigade had been
severe in officers and men--some companies losing nearly half their
number in killed and wounded. The color sergeant of the 11th regiment
had a bayonet fixed to the point of his color staff, which he used with
effect upon the enemy at the breastworks. The brigade continued its
flank movement along the rear of the enemy's position until it had
cleared the whole of its original front, and had gained a position
looking back towards Kingsland Creek, where it halted and faced about,
taking possession of the enemy's log breastworks and fronting the
enemy. A short lull now followed, during which an Irish Sergeant of the
1st regiment came to me talking with J. Tyler Frazier, and presented me
with a fine black felt hat, lost by some Federal officer in his hurry
to get away, about which hat the sequel will appear later. In a few
minutes the enemy on our right flank was upon us, and before action
could be taken to meet them, fired a volley enfilading our line, but
thanks to their bad aim and the fact that the men were mostly lying
down, nobody was hurt; however, in making left wheel to meet this
assault, four men were injured; among them I recall Sergeant Carpenter
of Company A, a gallant soldier, was killed; Sergeant Fry of D Company
in the melee fell--he may have stumped his toe. The Confederate troops
on our right struck the flank of the enemy, who had flanked us, and
repulsed their attack, and with this the battle virtually ended. Butler
was retreating and getting away--a thing he was good at. He had had
enough and was willing to quit. He retired behind his intrenched line
at Bermuda Hundred, where the Confederates "bottled him up."
The Federal casualties in this battle were 422 killed, 2380 wounded, of
which 1388 were made prisoners, together with five stand of colors, of
which four of the colors and 400 of the prisoners were taken by our
brigade, and five field guns were captured. The Confederate casualties
were 514 killed, 1086 wounded. In Terry's brigade the losses were as
follows:
1st Virginia 12 killed, 25 wounded
7th Virginia 2 killed, 37 wounded
11th Virginia 15 killed, 94 wounded
24th Virginia 28 killed, 108 wounded
-- ---
57 killed, 264 wounded
Total 321
The brave Colonel Maury and Major Hambrick of the 24th were wounded,
the former severely when within a few feet of the enemy's line, the
latter mortally. Company D of the 7th regiment lost John W. East, and
John S. Dudley, slightly wounded. The losses in the 7th regiment were
less on account of its being less exposed in its flank movement on the
enemy's right and rear.
The Confederate troops remained on the battle field that night, burying
the dead and caring for the wounded. Early next morning we started in
pursuit of the enemy, whom we followed on this and the next day to the
Howlett house on the James, where the Confederates had some unfinished
earthworks. Reaching the edge of an open field on which the earthworks
were located, I was directed to go forward to the works to see what or
who was there, and finding the trenches entirely abandoned, I waived
my cap, when the 1st and 7th regiments speedily came up and took
possession. Here they suffered eleven hours from an unmerciful shelling
from a number of Federal gunboats in the river. Several men of the two
regiments were killed or injured. Lieutenant John W. Mullins of Company
D, in command of the skirmish line, was dangerously wounded in the
breast, dying on the 22d of June following. He was a bright and brave
young man. Major Howard and Sergeant Tom Fox of the regiment were badly
hurt. Withdrawing the evening of the 19th, we went into camp a short
distance from the Clay house.
Chapter XXII
To Richmond.
Captured Flags.
Affair at Milford.
Hanover Junction.
North Anna.
Cold Harbor.
Tom Yowell's Yarn.
John A. Hale and His Prisoner.
Malvern Hill.
May 20 the brigade marched into Richmond, each of the regiments bearing
one of the captured flags taken in the engagement of Dreury's Bluff. In
the evening a portion of the command was placed on flat cars and
transported to Milford station, on the R.F. and P. railroad, a few
miles south of Fredericksburg, where on the next morning we were
attacked by the advance of General Grant's army, Torbett's cavalry.
The portion of our brigade present now numbered less than 500 men,
commanded by Major George F. Norton of the 1st regiment, with Sergeant
Major J. R. Pollock acting Assistant Adjutant General. After a spirited
contest of more than an hour, in which the repeated charges of the
Federal cavalry were repulsed, Major Norton ordered the men to retire,
and they withdrew across the river, the Mattapony, Captain Parr and I
dismantling the bridge by throwing the planks from the center into the
river, thus preventing immediate pursuit by the Federal cavalry. The
tough resistance given the Federal advance, together with the story of
Tom Yowell of the 7th regiment, given below, caused the Federal General
Hancock to halt his command, throw up intrenchments and prepare for an
attack. This halt gave General Lee time to reach Hanover Junction in
advance of the enemy.
A correspondent of a Northern newspaper with the Union army reported on
May 22, "The army under Hancock arrived at Milford yesterday and met a
force of the enemy said to be 13,000 strong, drove them through the
town and pursued them some distance." The only Confederate troops
Hancock met were the 500 above mentioned, and there were no others
within several miles.
Tom Yowell had been captured on the skirmish line and was taken to
General Hancock, who inquired to what command he belonged. Yowell with
much bravado told him we had given Butler the devil a few days before,
and that our brigade was the advance of General Lee's army from
Spottsylvania, and pointing south to a large white house a mile or
more away, said, "That is General Lee's headquarters." Yowell told
his story with so much apparent frankness that General Hancock believed
it. The Confederate loss in this affair was 70 men, mostly of the 11th
regiment, captured, some of whom were wounded. These were cut off from
the bridge by the rapid advance of the enemy, some of whom, with those
who were cut off, escaped by swimming the river.
Our force joined the main army en route from Spottsylvania to Hanover
Junction. Here we were also joined by a portion of Breckenridge's small
division from the valley, where a little more than a week before it had
defeated the Federal army under General Sigel. On this rapid march from
Milford to Hanover Junction, John A. Hale of Company D was unable to
keep up and to prevent capture took to the woods, following the line of
march, keeping the general direction. Going to a private house for
food, he found a Union soldier there on the same errand, whom he
captured and brought into our lines.
Held in reserve, we had little or nothing to do with the fighting at
the North Anna. On May 27 we made an all day march in the rain, going
into camp near Atlee's station. In the evening of the following day a
march was made twelve miles in the direction of Hanovertown, camping
three miles north of Mechanicsville, following General Grant around the
circle. On the evening of the 30th we reached our position in battle
line near Cold Harbor, being assigned a place on the left of Law's
Alabama brigade and Hoke's division.
At 4 o'clock, June 2, the battle of Cold Harbor began on our right,
raging furiously until sunset. By means of an improvised telegraphy,
information was received that the enemy had been repulsed. This
improvised telegraphy was nothing more than passing word from man to
man and on this occasion came, "Pass it along the lines that we have
whipped the enemy on the right." Early on the morning of the 3d the
battle of Cold Harbor was resumed, Hoke's, Breckenridge's and part of
Anderson's divisions being engaged on the right. When the battle ended,
we were informed by the same telegraphic line that the enemy had been
defeated. On our front had been nothing more than artillery fire, with
severe skirmishing. However, as the battle progressed, our division was
ordered to be ready to attack the enemy in front, and we were very well
satisfied when the order was revoked.
In Breckenridge's division, heavily engaged on the 3d, I had a
schoolmate, Lieutenant James K. Peck, of whom I was fond, and for whose
safety I was anxious. I was greatly distressed on learning a few days
afterwards that he was killed on the 3d.
The Federal casualties in the battle at Cold Harbor were over 10,000;
the Confederate 1500. I find no report of casualties in our division,
brigade or regiment; no casualties in Company D.
I had the opportunity to look at a portion of the battlefield in front
of the position held by General Hoke's division on the 3d. During the
war I never saw so many dead Union soldiers on any field. General
Hoke's division had not a man killed. The weather was oppressively hot.
The blood, burnt powder, and dead bodies produced a stench which cannot
be described, and not to be endured long by the living.
General Grant was again moving, not toward Richmond, but away from it,
toward the James river; we following, ten days after the battle,
crossing to the south side of the Chickahominy, keeping between the
Federal army and Richmond, and this tramp watching the movement of
General Grant was kept up until the vicinity of Malvern Hill was
reached.
I cannot well help breaking the thread of my narrative to tell a little
humorous camp story prevalent among our men just after the battle of
Cold Harbor. It was claimed to have been told by a Union soldier to
some of our men. It ran thus: A private Union soldier who had been in
the battle and saw the terrific slaughter, said to his captain, "We
have killed and had killed enough men and the war should end, and I
know what will end it." The captain inquired, "What?" "Take Richmond,"
was the response. "Yes," said the captain, "that is what General Grant
is trying to do." The soldier insisting that he knew how Richmond could
be taken, and the captain pressing him to know, he replied: "Swap
Generals!"
Chapter XXIII
From Malvern Hill to the South of the James.
Engagement at Clay's House.
Bermuda Hundred Line.
Christmas Dinner.
Our Southern Women.
Close of 1864.
June 15 Pickett's division marched from the vicinity of Malvern Hill up
the James, crossing the river the morning of June 16, on a bridge near
Dreury's Bluff, then passing over the battlefield of that name, which
battle we had fought one month before, reaching the Petersburg
turnpike. When near Port Walthall Junction, the head of the column was
fired upon by the enemy, who had possession of the road. The division
was immediately formed in line of battle on the turnpike, sending out
skirmishers, driving the enemy and regaining our first line of works,
which had been vacated that morning by the troops having been called to
Petersburg. The next day commenced heavy skirmish firing. Company D was
on the skirmish line the day before capturing some prisoners, among
them an Englishman, who came back saying rather excitedly that he was
forced into the army, which nobody believed, for the armies of the
enemy were to a considerable extent made up of foreigners. It was
often remarked by our men that we were fighting all Yankeedom and the
rest of mankind. And this reminds me of the story told by a Confederate
of another who like himself had in the battle of the third day at
Gettysburg gone over the enemy's line behind the stone fence, reaching
a point almost on the crest of Cemetery Ridge. Seeing the mighty host
gathered and gathering to envelop the few rebels left, this Confederate
cried out, "Do we have to whip the world?" Listening for a moment, he
heard a Federal officer say: "Attention, World! By nations right wheel,
by states, fire!" He concluded it was time for that poor Confederate to
cut dirt, and he stood not on the order of his going.
Let it be remembered that we were now engaged in what is known as the
battle of Clay's House. One of our batteries to our left was now
throwing shells at the enemy in our front, endeavoring to enfilade
their line, during which time I was ordered by Colonel Flowerree to go
along the line of the regiment and tell the company commanders to get
their men ready for the assault. I had proceeded nearly half way when a
misdirected shell from the battery referred to exploded over me, a
large fragment grazing my head, burying itself at my feet. Had it
struck my head, there would have been one less Sergeant-Major in the
Confederate army, and this story would not have been written. A moment
later I saw J. B. Young of D Company fall with a severe wound in the
head. In a few moments the charge became general, and the enemy's
intrenchments were carried. General Lee was riding close in the rear of
our battle line at the time of the charge referred to, and meeting one
of our regiment badly wounded and being carried out by the litter
bearers, said to the wounded man, "I hope, my good fellow, you are not
badly hurt."
This charge was the subject of a complimentary letter from General Lee
to General Anderson, which is as follows:
"General, I take great pleasure in presenting to you my
congratulations upon the conduct of the men of your corps. I
believe that they will carry anything they are put against. We
tried very hard to stop Pickett's men from capturing the
breastworks of the enemy, but couldn't do it. I hope his loss
has been small."
This reminds me to say here and now, without intending the least
disparagement of others, that the 7th Virginia regiment was never
ordered to take the enemy's line that it did not take it, never gave up
or lost a position it was ordered to hold, and never left a position or
battlefield unless ordered to do so. Once when bodily taken by the
Federals and carried into captivity, the reader might consider an
exception to the statement just made.
The charge last above referred to was not without its casualties,
though I have nothing to show the division, brigade or regimental
losses. In the 1st Virginia six men were wounded, and I remember that
Sergeant William Parrott of Company I and J. B. Young of Company D were
severely and Private William Davis of Company C mortally wounded.
During the remainder of June and for several months following we
remained on this Bermuda Hundred line, occasionally shifting position
from Howlett House on the James to Swift Creek near the Appomattox,
until about the middle of July, then settling down on a high piece of
ground behind a skirt of timber midway between Howlett House and Swift
Creek. Here we worked hard to strengthen our lines.
Company D now had but a single commissioned officer, Captain Bane.
Lieutenant Stone was still a prisoner, Lieutenant Walker had been
disabled at Gettysburg and retired, and Lieutenant Mullins had died of
the wound received at Howlett House in June. It was on this line that
Sergeant T. S. Taylor was elected a lieutenant and E. Z. Yager made
orderly sergeant of the company. These selections were well made, and
the confidence reposed not misplaced.
[Illustration: Rev. J. Tyler Frazier]
At or near this time there appeared on our lines a man representing
himself to be a citizen of Alabama, who proposed then to do what could
not be done, but in some degree has since been accomplished--to build a
machine to navigate the air, carry shells and drop them on the Northern
armies, and in their cities. He requested donations from each of the
soldiers of one dollar, and of the officers five dollars each to enable
him to build his machine. We concluded he was a crank, refused to
contribute and the man departed. This fellow was only a little ahead of
his time.
At an early hour of July 30th occurred the famous explosion of the mine
at Petersburg. Though several miles away, it so shook the earth that
the pickets and other men awake at the time felt the shock. The fearful
artillery fire which followed convinced us that an important event had
occurred. Later in the day we learned what had happened, seeing also a
full account of the occurrence in the Richmond papers the next morning.
I well remember the comments in the Richmond Examiner (a partisan
paper) on the retaking of the line by the division of General Mahone.
Describing the slaughter of the Federal soldiers in the crater, it
said: "The slaughter was so great that General Mahone sickened at the
sight and told his men 'for God's sake to stop,' and the next time we
hope General Mahone will shut his eyes." The official report of General
Mahone of the retaking of the line and the crater was not furnished by
him to his superior officer, but was found by his family among his
papers after his death, and published a few years ago. An incident
related by the General in his report is worth reproducing here. The
General states that his division was on the Confederate right and a
mile or more from where the explosion took place; that the same was
not unexpected, but just when and where it would occur no one could
certainly tell; that on that morning he was lying on the ground, and on
hearing the noise sprang to his feet, looking in every direction to
locate from whence the sound came, when he discovered a Confederate
soldier at full speed coming towards him. The men along the line were
endeavoring to stop him, but without success, so seeing the man was
following a path which led near by where the General was standing, he
planted himself in the path of the fellow, who was without hat, cap,
shoes or coat, and said: "Now stop long enough to tell me what has
happened." "Why, Mister," said the soldier, "don't you know that hell
has busted?" Evidently this man thought the infernal regions had
accidentally exploded.
Between the lines of the two armies as now situated lay a strip of
woods, where our men and the Union soldiers were in the habit of
meeting to exchange newspapers, coffee and tobacco, now and then
playing cards. Our officers on finding out what was going on concluded
there was too much familiarity and sought to break it up; so when one
of the officers located some of the men engaged in a game of cards with
a Union soldier, this Federal was made a prisoner and brought into our
lines. The Union soldier was highly indignant at what he considered
taking advantage of confidence, for both parties by their acts had
waived the fact that they were in the field as deadly foes to each
other, and in their hearts our own men had a feeling of the same sort.
A little later one of the Union soldiers, thinking to get even, induced
a Confederate to meet him between the lines on pretense of exchanging
papers, when he attempted his capture, but in the scramble the
Confederate proved too much for his captor, dragging him toward our
lines, when the Union pickets began firing at the Confederate, who let
his man go and escaped. These incidents put a stop for the time being
to communication and traffic between the opposing soldiers.
At another time some of our men under the lead of an officer, about
daybreak crept over to the Federal skirmish line and between the men in
their rifle pits, taking the line in flank and reverse, and raked it
for a long distance, bringing out more than a hundred prisoners,
including the commanding officer of the line.
How tender the fellow feeling of one soldier for another, though on
opposite sides, is shown by the following incident: The Union soldiers,
well knowing that we were scarce of food, at dusk one day called to
one of our men, "Say, Johnnie, are you hungry?" "Yes," replied the
Confederate, "have had but little to eat for two or three days," to
which the Union soldier said, "Bring your haversack over here and I
will take you to the sutler and fill it," but the Confederate demurred,
giving as his reason that he was afraid he would be captured. Being
assured, however, upon the honor of a soldier that he should have a
safe return, he went, and the Union soldier filled his haversack and
returned him safely to our lines.
The enemy was reported shifting about in our front beyond and behind
the timber, where we could not see him, and supposing he might be
preparing for an attack upon us, by order of the Colonel, with Pitts of
Company C and Crawford of Company D, I went to the front, outside our
pickets, where I ran upon a scouting or observation party of the enemy,
by whom we were fired on, and came near being gobbled up, but escaped
and returned within our lines. We had a close call.
Wishing to visit some friends in Captain David A. French's artillery
company, then stationed near Chaffin's Bluff north of the James, three
miles away, I obtained a pass and put off on September 28, spending the
night with friends, finding myself the next morning almost in a
hornet's nest, for on the morning of the 29th the Federal troops
advanced and captured Fort Harrison, a mile to the front of the camp of
French's company. I followed the battery, witnessing the fight, in
which the Federals advancing from Fort Harrison were repulsed. French
lost several men, among them Adam Johnston, killed. I did not tarry
long, but set out for my command, meeting on the way a part of our
division, the 24th Virginia regiment among them, on their way to
reinforce our troops in front of Fort Harrison, where they were
defeated in the attempt to recapture the fort.
As already stated, the line from the Howlett House to Swift Creek, some
three miles in length, was held by Pickett's division, four thousand
strong; the skirmish line or rifle pits of the opposing forces were
close together, say 30 yards apart, and the main lines but a few
hundred yards away. Our line was so thin and so drawn out that when
thrown into the trenches it made scarcely more than a strong skirmish
line. We were frequently in the trenches expecting attack, and the
morning following the battle of Winchester we were sure the enemy was
coming, but he was content with firing a shotted salute. At this time
desertions from our ranks, as well as from the ranks of the enemy,
became more frequent and punishment more sure. Numbers of the enemy
came into our lines and were sent to the rear and the same course was
pursued by the enemy with men deserting from us. Now and then a man
instead of going over to the enemy would go home and hide and when
caught would be tried and shot. This happened to a mere boy, a member
of Company B of our regiment, who was executed October 18, 1864. At
this distance from the war, a half century, such a thing may shock the
reader, but war at best is a horrible thing and discipline must be
enforced. It was not strange that some men deserted and went home. Many
had families dependent on them for food and support. The soldier's pay
for a month, in Confederate currency, with the necessaries of life
advanced to enormous figures, would not buy a half bushel of wheat for
his family. The cry of his children for bread reached his ears and this
was more than his heart could bear. He became dissatisfied--anxious for
the suffering ones at home. He was willing to bare his breast to the
storm, and undergo the hardships and privations of camp life and the
dangers of the battlefield, if he knew his wife and children were kept
from starving, but their appeals for food moved him; he would obtain
leave to go if he could, otherwise he would go without leave; but it
will be seen if this were permitted the army would soon be depleted,
and the cause we were fighting for lost. The dilemma was therefore a
trying one to many a good man.
The Colonel of the 7th regiment, having instructions to capture a
prisoner to obtain certain information wanted, and going to the
skirmish line, where Company D under Captain Bane was on picket,
instructed him to secure such prisoner. Bane called for volunteers for
this enterprise and three men responded, among them John W. East, who
agreed to capture the prisoner by playing the role of deserter, which
he did by going over to the enemy. The Federal picket called our men up
next morning and told them East had deserted the night before. This was
no less than a ruse on John's part to desert and go over to the side of
the enemy.
Among the inducements offered by the Federal officers to our men to
desert was that if their homes were within the Federal lines they
should be sent home and protected or given government employment at
good wages, but love of cause and country were more potent than all the
inducements offered on the other side.
A. L. Sumner, of Company D, an illiterate man, heard someone read from
a Richmond paper one morning in November, 1864, that Mr. Lincoln had
been re-elected president of the United States, and had called for a
large number of additional men. Sumner sat with his head bowed, when a
comrade approaching and seeing that something was troubling him,
inquired the cause. Sumner responded, "Don't you know that Abe Lincoln
is re-elected and has called for a million men, and that Jeff Davis
says war to the knife? What shall we do?"--A pertinent inquiry.
Christmas, 1864, was approaching and extensive preparations were being
made by city, town and country to furnish the army of Northern Virginia
a Christmas dinner, the women taking the lead--God bless them! The
newspapers urged the movement forward, committees were appointed to
collect and forward the good things to the soldiers. The papers
proclaimed that Virginia, devastated as she was by an invading host,
was yet able to feed her soldiers; that the cattle upon a thousand
hills were hers. Though the cattle were not there, the day came, and
with it a bountiful supply which made us glad, and we thanked our
benefactors and took courage.
The credit for our Christmas dinner was due the women. In every
movement for the uplift and betterment of our race, and in every worthy
cause, woman is the first to espouse, the last to forsake. Having once
fixed her affections upon the object of our cause, her love therefor
became as fast and enduring as the rock-ribbed hills. The wives,
mothers and sisters of the men gave their husbands, sons and brothers
to the cause, suffered untold agony and sorrows, depriving themselves
of every comfort, to the end that the soldiers in the field might be
clothed and fed. For them no sacrifice was too great. The Southern
woman, accustomed to the indulgences and refinements of life, became
familiar with the coarsest of personal apparel, and a scarcity of food
which she had never known, and she bore these things without a murmur.
She followed the plow, reaped the grain, took it to the mill, nursed
the sick and wounded, buried the dead, and rendered thousands of
kindnesses to our suffering soldiers, only recorded in the hearts and
memories of the recipients of these loving deeds, and of Him whose eye
is never shut. In the days of "reconstruction," when men were awe
stricken, not knowing whither to look or what to do, these women stood
with resolute trust in God, giving words of encouragement to the
sterner sex; and became, as it were, the strong vine entwined around
the sturdy tree when shaken by the storm. These Southern women were the
only portion of our people who never surrendered. They are today the
purest type of Anglo-Saxon womanhood on the face of the earth.
Memorial Day originated with our Southern women, whose custom it is to
strew flowers, mementoes of their undying love, on the graves of the
gray and the blue alike. They are the guardians of the graves of our
noble dead.
"This place of burial is
Hallowed by woman's prayers;
A nobler epitaph than this
Could not be theirs."
Things now began to look dark. General Sherman was marching through
Georgia to the sea; Hood's army had been defeated at Nashville. The
situation was grave in the extreme. With all this came strange
presentiments. The dark clouds that had been for some time overhanging
us were settling down. The patriotism, enthusiasm and untold sacrifices
of the past four years seemed all for naught, and our men could not be
required to shoulder a heavier cross than was now the lot of the
Confederate soldiers. But a patriotic people and a valiant soldiery
might yet accomplish success, looking we were, but in vain, for foreign
intervention, or something else to turn up. If to satisfy the Northern
people and gain our separate existence meant to give up slavery, the
army was ready to see it abolished. In fact, the great bulk of the army
was ready to make almost any sacrifice required for independent and
separate government. Our forefathers had resisted British tyranny, we
were resisting Northern aggression upon the sovereignty and reserved
rights of the States of the Confederacy.
Dark and discouraging as were these days, the spirit of the army was
yet unbroken, and the men were willing to fight it out, although it
appeared but a question of time when we should all go down.
Thus closed the year of 1864, and to us it seemed final overthrow must
come, for our foe was growing stronger, we weaker. Our star was surely
on the wane.
Chapter XXIV
Religion in the Army.
Doctors Pryor, Fontaine, Stiles.
General Pendleton.
Young Men's Christian Association.
Frazier, Our Preaching-Fighting Chaplain.
My presentation of the subject of religion in the army will necessarily
be confined to the command to which I belonged and what came under my
personal observation. When the call to arms was made in 1861, the
sentiment of our people was a solemn appeal to God for the rectitude of
our intentions and purposes, an appeal to the God of battles for His
abiding presence and blessing upon our undertaking. Nearly every step
taken was witnessed by religious services. Our whole Southland was
permeated with the spirit and teachings of the Bible. The brave people
of our land believed in God--indeed, the foundations of their state
government were based upon their faith in the Author of their lives and
liberty. This was no mere phantom. Most of our great leaders were
Christian men, who feared and worshipped God.
At the beginning of the war we had many wild, profane men who had
joined the army, but from this it must not be inferred that our camps
were scenes of vulgarity, and profanity. With but few exceptions, after
the first year or so of the war, there was never an army freer from
vice, immorality and anger. That which in the beginning would have
been offensive and insulting, and probably brought the parties to
blows, was now passed by. The men had come to understand each other's
temperaments. They had lived, associated, marched, fought, slept and
eaten together too long, had suffered in common too many hardships,
enduring the same privations, not to know each other's Christian
convictions. They were therefore "Souls that had but a single thought,
and hearts that beat as one." They were, with a true Christian spirit,
ready to bear each other's burdens, care for each other when sick or
wounded, comfort each other when in trouble and distress, and therefore
the better prepared to entertain the "King of Peace."
Many of the men of my company, some of whom I have already mentioned,
were Christians when they entered the army, and by their example and
character exerted a wholesome influence for good. When resting in camp,
these men remembered their vows, conducting religious exercises in
their quarters before retiring at night. On Sunday we usually had
services, led by the Chaplains, who were zealous Christians, and
patriotic men, even going into battle with us. One, Dr. Granberry,
chaplain of the 11th Virginia, and after the war a Methodist Bishop,
was wounded in the battle of Seven Pines. In the absence of the regular
chaplain, Brother Frazier, acting as such, preached to us.
Near the close of 1862, and throughout the greater part of the year of
1863, a religious spirit seemed to possess the army; at least this was
true of our command. Christians had great reason to thank God and take
courage when they thought on the remarkable progress the gospel was
making in the camp. Thousands of young men embraced religion. While
churches at home were languishing, the gospel was moving forward with
marvelous strides among the soldiers in the field. Indeed, what could
be more fitting, with real men accustomed daily to witnessing carnage
and death. There was therefore much comfort to the men in having the
gospel successfully preached and the standard of the Master borne aloft
in the trenches, in sight of the enemy, even within musket and cannon's
range. At the administration of the baptismal ordinance, the banks of
the Rappahannock, Rapidan and the James and other streams resounded
with the songs of praise. Our chaplains often proclaimed the glad
tidings amid the noise of the booming cannon and rattle of musketry.
This spirit was caught by our division at Taylorsville in the spring of
1863, when Dr. Pryor of Petersburg preached for us for several days in
succession, hundreds professing-faith in Christ. The whole camp was one
religious gathering, and all men seemed greatly interested. There was a
grand and glorious awakening. Many in the Spring of 1863 found the
blessed Savior precious, to their souls and rejoiced in His love, I
among the number.
When on the march to Gettysburg, halting for a day or more, religious
exercises were conducted; scarcely would the column halt at night and
supper over before the sacred songs began; around those singing would
gather the soldiers in large numbers, the chaplain, or someone else,
conducting the exercises. This was continued during the fall of 1863,
in Culpeper, on the Rapidan, again at Taylorsville, in North Carolina,
in Virginia, near Hanover Junction, around Cold Harbor, Malvern Hill,
and on the south of the James, where Drs. Stiles and Fontaine were
occasionally with us. The latter, Rev. P. H. Fontaine, a minister
of the Baptist Church, visited us in September, 1864, preaching
successfully for several days; many desiring baptism going to a small
branch close by our line in a ravine, where a dam was constructed,
furnishing sufficient water to bury a man in baptism, as was our Savior
in the Jordan, a comforting scene to many wearied and homesick hearts.
On Monday, September 12, 1864, Mr. Fontaine baptized a large number of
soldiers on their profession of faith--how many I do not recollect, but
of our company two, Tim P. Darr and the writer. Darr became a Methodist
preacher, dying last year (1913) in the State of Kentucky.
The army of Northern Virginia by the close of the year 1864 had in
large measure become a band of Christian soldiers, God-fearing men.
Amid the trying scenes, shoeless, in tattered rags, hungry, chilled by
the cold, they gathered, if opportunity offered, and on bended knees
asked God to comfort their homes and little ones, to bless our arms
with success and to crown our efforts with early peace and stable
government.
The venerable Doctor Stiles and General Pendleton--the latter an
Episcopal minister and the chief of artillery of the army of Northern
Virginia--occasionally preached to the troops. Through the
instrumentality of J. Tyler Frazier there was organized a Young Men's
Christian Association, of Kemper's brigade, into which was largely
incorporated all the professing Christians in the brigade. It met
regularly when not on the march, and among the articles of the
constitution was one providing that if any member of the Association
should desert or absent himself from his command without leave, he
should be excluded. The Association stood pledged to discourage
desertions or insubordination, and on the other hand to encourage
obedience and fidelity to cause and country; by all means within its
power to diffuse religious thought and morality throughout the brigade.
While on the Bermuda Hundred line, the men built a church in which
religious services were held, and which was also used as a place of
entertainment.
J. Tyler Frazier, whose name has been frequently mentioned in this
narrative, deserves a more extended notice. Mr. Frazier was born in
Giles County, Virginia, in the year 1840, embracing Christianity at an
early age. His early opportunities for acquiring an education were
quite limited, but being a man of exceptionally good sense, a preacher
when he entered the army--the company chaplain, did his duty nobly and
well. By precept and example upon all proper occasions he endeavored to
impress upon the men the importance of living a Christian life. Notice
has already been taken of some of his messmates, Taylor, Henderson,
Fortner, Darr and others, God-fearing men. Mr. Frazier preached
whenever opportunity offered, not only to the company, regiment and
brigade, but to the people of the region roundabout. The chaplaincy of
the regiment being vacant, the Young Men's Christian Association
desired the appointment of Mr. Frazier to the vacancy, naming a
committee consisting of Thomas S. Taylor (who died in this year,
1914), Edward Hoge (now dead), and David E. Johnston, to take up the
matter with the Colonel, but our mission failed because the commander
felt that a man could not be spared from the ranks who was so good a
soldier as Brother Frazier. We secured, however, the privilege for Mr.
Frazier to preach where and when he pleased, having his musket and
accouterments transported in headquarters wagon, the only requirement
being demanded that he should take his gun and go into battle. Mr.
Frazier was as useful as chaplain without a commission as with it, for
he still continued to preach, pray, march and fight, to exhort and
encourage men to do their duty to God and their country. He was spared
and returned home, entered the regular Methodist ministry of the
Southern Methodist Church, has been a presiding elder, a successful
preacher, and still lives to bless humanity. He now resides on his fine
estate near Chilhowie, Virginia, preaching regularly, esteemed and
highly respected by his brethren, old comrades, friends and neighbors.
In closing this chapter, I may be permitted with genuineness of purpose
to add a final word to the sons and daughters, descendants of the noble
Confederate soldiers of Virginia, whom I deeply loved, and of whom I
have endeavored, though with much imperfection, to write in these
pages.
Another warfare is today calling you to the field. I have seen much of
life and know the fruits of vice and shame, the danger of gilded
pitfalls and deceptive traps which are set for you and your children. I
beg of you not to think of this as idle talk on my part. You are in
imminent danger of the captivity from which there is no return. For
your safety the Great Leader is calling you to join His forces, to
enlist in His cause. This Leader has never known defeat, has never lost
a soldier. If you are in His service, your name is enrolled on high. If
you are faithful, you will not be overlooked nor forgotten. If you have
not given Him your life and everything belonging to you, I beg you not
to delay. Your father obeyed our country's call in 1861. It is fitting
now that you obey the gospel call into the noblest army earth has ever
known. More than once did I look into the faces of your noble sires, as
they stood at Sharpsburg, Gettysburg and Cold Harbor, in defense of the
right. I think of the courage with which they followed the old flag,
and I love you for their sakes. I pray God that each of you may honor
the memory of those fathers by being brave and steadfast soldiers of
the Cross; that you may have a place in the ranks of that great army
composed of the pure and the good on earth and in heaven.
Chapter XXV
From January, 1865, to Close of Battle of Five Forks.
Gloomy Outlook at the Opening of the Year.
The Peace Commissioners.
Spirit of the Army.
A. S. Fry as Regimental Clerk and Historian.
Trouble in Company D.
Activity Within the Federal Lines.
General Pendleton's Speech.
Early's Small Force Defeated at Waynesboro.
Sheridan's Raid.
While near Swift Creek, A. L. Fry of Company D was appointed clerk
and regimental historian, making a complete roll of the men of the
regiment, noting their services, for which he received a short
furlough. The record made by Fry was filed away in Richmond, but
unfortunately was destroyed by fire on the evacuation of the city by
the Confederate troops. This was indeed a calamity, for such a record
would now, after half a century, be of priceless value. The record of
many a poor fellow which was thus lost cannot be had anywhere else.
We changed position from near Swift Creek to the Howlett House on the
James in January, 1865, where we erected rude shacks of timber and
earth which furnished slight shelter from the pelting storms. Near the
middle of the month the weather softened, and we were enabled to get
out and engage in ball and other games, which gave us exercise and good
appetites, though ordinarily we were ready to eat anything we could
get, for at that time our daily allowance was one-fourth pound of bacon
and one pint of coarse cornmeal, with occasionally a little sugar,
rice, beans or peas.
The period was still gloomy. Fort McAllister had fallen, Savannah was
in the hands of the enemy, Charleston and Fort Fisher seriously
threatened; Hood's army had been wrecked and driven out of Tennessee;
General Sherman was preparing to march through the Carolinas. General
Grant had seized the Petersburg and Weldon railroad and was now
threatening to strike the south side and Richmond and Danville
road--the latter being the only remaining line connecting Richmond with
the Southern states, over which our supplies must be drawn. The
situation was therefore serious. This was fully realized by the men in
the ranks. Vastly superior territory, unlimited supplies, and a call
for 300,000 new troops in the North were calculated to produce
discouragement in the hearts of men who had from the first been
fighting against heavy odds. Desertions became more frequent; many men
were absent without leave, on account of needy families and other
causes, and were in no hurry to return. All these things were discussed
by the soldiers in their huts. The army of Northern Virginia now
consisted of less than fifty thousand poorly equipped, poorly clad,
poorly fed men, who had marched and countermarched, charged and fought
a foe two or three times their number for nearly four long, dreadful
years. It was little wonder, therefore, that depression came to the
noble army of Northern Virginia, which then held the toe line from a
point north of Fort Harrison to the vicinity of Hatcher's Run to the
south, more than thirty-five miles--in many places little more than a
good skirmish line, which the enemy was able to confront with full
lines, and yet overreaching our flanks, and was continuing to extend
his lines. Why General Grant did not cut loose from his base at City
Point and swing around the Confederate right, shutting the army up in
Petersburg and Richmond, is a military problem I will not endeavor to
solve.
I was in Richmond in January, 1865, and saw bread selling at $2.00 for
a small loaf; a pound of soda for $12.00; a calico dress pattern,
$25.00, a gold dollar commanding $60.00 in Confederate currency.
The mission of the Confederate "Peace Commissioners" had been a
failure, and a great disappointment to the soldiers, who saw plainly
nothing short of a bitter fight to the end. Public meetings of the men
were held in many of the commands in the army, resolutions adopted,
expressing regret at the failure of the Peace Conference, reaffirming
their faith in the justness of our cause, and rededicating themselves
to the defense thereof, resolving to fight to the end. Surely heroism
and desperation equal to this cannot be found in the annals of history.
With this situation confronting them, they demanded that all absentees
should be returned to their places, all able bodied men should be
required to take the field, and that every step possible should be
taken to strengthen the army, even to the arming of the negroes--a
thing which should have been done long before this.
In order to give some conception of the feeling and sentiment which
then pervaded the soldiers, I here insert an extract from a letter
written a friend in February, 1865, in which I say: "There is nothing
left us but to fight it out; the cry is for war--war to the knife. If
the people at home will support the army and drive all skulkers and
absentees to the front, all will be right."
Amid the darkness and gloom surrounding us, some of the men would have
fun. I well remember that W. D. Peters, of D Company, a wit and wag,
having around him several of his comrades, inquired as to how the
Southern Confederacy was bounded. One answered, "North by the United
States, south by the Gulf of Mexico, east by the Atlantic Ocean, west
by the Rocky Mountains." Peters insisted this to be a mistake, saying
that "we were surrounded by Yankees!"
The general sentiment in the army favored freeing all negroes who would
take arms and fight for the country. To this, singularly enough, came
opposition from men who did not and never had owned a slave. The
proposition to arm the negroes did not find favor with the politicians,
but they were finally forced to yield, late in the Spring of 1865, on
the eve of the retreat of the army of Northern Virginia from the
Richmond-Petersburg lines.
While on the lines near Howlett House, a squad went out between the
skirmish lines to gather fuel; among the number was Adam Thompson, who
had so large a foot that special requisition had to be made to get
shoes big enough for him; the shoes for Adam had to be made to order.
On the occasion referred to, Adam deserted to the enemy, when a Union
soldier called out, "Jonnnie! Have you another man over there three
feet across the back and who wears a number two shoe--two hides to the
shoe?"
I here relate an incident happening on this line while at the Howlett
House, which caused much grief, growing out, as I believe, of
misinformation and misunderstanding, whereby three of the best soldiers
of Company D--A. J. Thompson, Harry Snidow and J. C. Hughes--were
arrested upon a charge of encouraging insubordination and mutiny, of
which they were convicted and sentenced to be shot, and pending the
approval of General Lee (which was never had, so far as I know), were
incarcerated in "Castle Thunder" in Richmond, from which they were only
released by the Union army on entering the city April 3, 1865. In the
opinion of the writer, who knew these three men, all sergeants, through
and through, this proceeding was excessive and unwarranted. Surely
three long years of untiring devotion and loyalty to the cause for
which we fought should be counted worth something.
General Pendleton, the chief of artillery of the army, visited our
lines the middle of March and made a speech, in which he said, "The
time is rapidly approaching for the opening of the campaign, and that
man Grant over there means mischief. Only with a union of strong arms
and brave hearts can we hope to win. Pack your haversacks and be ready
to move." There was now great activity within the lines of the enemy;
the whistle of the locomotive, the inclination and the action of the
enemy to crowd us, all pointed to an early movement, but the question
confronted us--What are we to do? Can we get away and how far? Not a
mule nor horse that can pull a hundred pounds five miles through the
mud. It was suggested, let us go south and join General Joe Johnston,
unite forces with him, whip Grant and then Sherman. Some said one
thing, some another, but all agreed that if Richmond had to be given
up, it were better it had been abandoned the fall before, when our
transportation was in better shape and our army numerically stronger,
and General Grant's not in such good condition, not yet having
recovered from its bloody campaign from the Rapidan to Petersburg, and
not so confident as now.
[Illustration: Brigadier-General David E. Johnston and Aid-de-Camp D.
E. J. Wilson]
In March, 1865, at night, our division was withdrawn from the lines,
Mahone's division taking our place. We were hurried up to Richmond to
the outer intrenchments north of the city to meet the Federal General
Sheridan's cavalry corps of 10,000 men, which a few days before had
overwhelmed the little band of about 1500 men of General Early in the
valley near Waynesboro, and were now rapidly approaching Richmond by
way of Charlottesville. Near Ashland Corse's brigade had a brisk
skirmish with Sheridan's advance. It was apparent that General Sheridan
had no thought of attacking Richmond (he was never known to attack
unless he had the advantage) but had crossed the Chickahominy and was
making his way to join the main army south of the James.
Chapter XXVI
South of the James.
Battles of Dinwiddie and Five Forks.
The Retreat.
We were hastened through Richmond and to the south of the James,
marching to the South Side railroad west of Petersburg, thence on to
Sutherland Station, reaching there at 9 P.M., Wednesday, March 29, and
going forward through an all night's rain, arriving at the White Oak
road at dawn, where a portion of General Bushrod Johnson's division was
in line of battle, with a brisk skirmish progressing in front. Three
brigades of Pickett's division, Corse's, Stuart's and Terry's, with
Ransom's and Wallace's--the last two now consolidated under General
Ransom--extended the battle line of Johnson's division to the right.
Here we remained until the middle of the afternoon, a heavy rain
falling during the greater part of the time, our skirmishers having an
occasional brush with the enemy. The column then moved forward along
the road in the direction of Five Forks, skirmishing front and flank,
reaching the Forks at sunset; without halting, Corse's brigade, and the
1st and 7th regiments of Terry's, advanced, driving the dismounted
cavalry of the enemy through and out of the woods and across the open
country beyond; then returning to the Forks, lay down under a pelting
rain upon the wet ground until morning, thus in line ready to fight or
march.
It was 10 A.M., Friday, March 31, that the advance began in the
direction of Dinwiddie Court House, the cavalry in our front fighting
at every step, crossing Chamberlain Run, and being driven back, as the
infantry was unable to afford them help on account of the swollen
condition of the stream. Finally, at the remains of an old mill on the
Run, the infantry succeeded in getting over, in the face of a sharp
fire from the enemy, with whom, as soon as across the stream, we kept
up a running fight until near sunset. When near the Court House we
encountered a large body of the enemy's dismounted cavalry formed
across the road prepared to oppose our further advance. A Federal
battery of artillery in their center commanded the ground over which
the advance had to be made, but we made a successful charge, sweeping
the field, the enemy retiring in confusion, leaving their dead and
wounded, we occupying the battlefield until nearly 1 o'clock next
morning.
In this engagement, known as the battle of Dinwiddie, the famous
cavalry officer, General Phil Sheridan, with all his brag, was scared
out of his boots--calling that night on General Grant for an army corps
of infantry to help him out of the scrape, although he already had more
men on the field than the Confederates who were assailing him.
Humanity, the crowning grace of the brave soldier, secured for the
wounded--the enemy's as well as our own--all the care and attention we
were able to give them. Our loss had not been heavy, especially was it
small in our regiment--none in Company D. General Terry's horse was
struck by a cannon shot, which caused it to fall with the General,
giving him quite a severe injury.[5]
[5] On account of Gen'l. Terry's injury, Col. Jo Mayo of the
Third Regiment was in command of the brigade at Five Forks.
Near midnight, or a little later, March 31, the Confederates retired to
Five Forks, five miles away, taking position in battle line, and
hastily throwing up temporary breastworks of logs. W. H. F. Lee's
cavalry was on the right, then the infantry brigades, Corse, Terry,
Steuart, Ransom-Wallace, in the order named, with a portion of Fitzhugh
Lee's cavalry under General Munford on the left. Terry's brigade held
the ground immediately on the right of the Forks, with the left of the
7th Virginia resting at the Forks, at which was posted three guns of
Colonel William Pegram's Virginia battalion of artillery. The enemy did
not appear in force in our front until nearly 10 A.M. next day.
Five Forks is situated in a thickly wooded, flat, wet country, and gets
its name from the crossing of two country roads at right angles, with
the deflection of another road bisecting one of these angles; the last
place that a general with a small force would desire to meet a large
force, or select his ground upon which to fight a defensive battle,
because it was in an open country. This position could be easily
turned, and a small force easily isolated from the main army at
Petersburg, which the enemy, in fact, did by throwing General Warren's
infantry corps, nearly 15,000 strong, against the Confederate left,
between it and the right wing of our army. This point could only have
been necessary to hold to protect the South Side railroad, and for this
reason may have been regarded strategic, but it could not be held by a
small force, if an enemy in superior numbers chose to turn it, who had
the advantage of approach from two or more of the five roads converging
there.
Privates Crawford and Dudley of Company D were on the skirmish line.
After several unsuccessful attempts by the Federal skirmishers to drive
in ours, they concluded to try something stronger. In the meantime
Crawford had his musket stock at the small part thereof severed and he
came back to the main line, procured another, and returned to his place
with the skirmishers. By this time the Federal battle line, composed
partly of dismounted cavalry, was advancing, and soon overran our
skirmishers, killing, wounding and capturing nearly the whole of them,
coming with a rush at our main line, by which they were severely
punished and repelled. These attacks were several times repeated along
our whole brigade front, each time being repulsed with loss to the
enemy and with little to us. Warren's infantry corps, having placed
itself near the middle of the afternoon around and beyond the
Confederate left, advancing boldly struck Ransom's and Wallace's
brigades in flank, doubling them up and pushing them to us in the
center. Steuart's and Terry's brigades now moved out of their
intrenched line and with a fierce, determined fight met the oncoming
battle against more than 15,000 with less than two thousand. In the
nature of things this could not and did not last long, but it did last
until the moon was up and the evening shades had fallen. This scribe,
it will be remembered, was still only a boy, and remembers distinctly
Colonel Flowerree saying, "Now, boys, in marching away follow that
moon." This because we were in a country unknown to us or to our
commander. Our brigade was in conflict with Ayers' Federal division,
which was massed in column, firing over each other and too high, thus
accounting for our small regimental and brigade loss in killed and
wounded.
Before being withdrawn from our intrenched line to meet the flank
attack of Warren's corps, Colonel Pegram of the artillery fell on the
left of our regiment, mortally wounded. The 7th regiment, numbering
less than 300 men, under the fearless Colonel Flowerree, was thrown
into the breach to stem the tide, but after a few minutes of close,
almost hand-to-hand struggle, it left the field, not however, before
being ordered three times by the Colonel to do so.
In the woods where we were fighting it was getting dark, the moon
beginning to shine. My position as Sergeant-Major was on the left of
the regiment, which I occupied during the fierce contest. Seeing the
regiment move rapidly by the right flank and to the rear, but in good
order, I stood for a moment reflecting whether I should leave or take
the chances of death or becoming a prisoner. Choosing the former, and
passing the road over which we had fought our way a few minutes before,
I found myself with two Confederates, who were a little in advance of
me, and proceeding but a short distance we found ourselves plump up
against the lines of Federal cavalry. A Sergeant demanded our
surrender, the Confederate nearest him threw down his gun; the one next
to me turned and said, "What shall we do?" I still had the carbine I
had picked up the day before in the battle near Dinwiddie, but no
ammunition, and without replying to the question or dropping my gun,
but keeping my eyes fixed on the sergeant, who was separated by a small
space from his comrades as well as from me, I observed that his cap had
been knocked off by the limb of a pine bush under which he had ridden,
and that his attention was fixed upon an effort to get his cap. Just
then seeing an opening where the Federal regiments joined, I darted
through, amidst a shower of bullets, the wind and heat of some of them
being felt distinctly in my face. The reader may easily imagine the
speed made just then by a Confederate Sergeant-Major. In less than two
hundred yards beyond, I overtook my command forming across the road.
Here Generals Pickett, Corse, Steuart, Ransom and Colonel Mayo were
urging the men to get quickly into line, Pickett in the midst of the
fire behaving with his usual gallantry and coolness. In the middle of
the road stood the ensign of the 1st Virginia regiment, with his colors
and guard, with Gentry and his Glee Club, singing, "Rally Round the
Flag, Boys, Rally Once Again"--and rally they did, although badly
mixed, but in a few minutes partial order was restored, not a moment
too soon, for the enemy was coming. The position now held was not more
than four hundred yards from the Forks. As yet, the enemy had gained
but little ground, though he had captured a large number of prisoners,
principally of Ransom's, Wallace's and Steuart's brigades, and of the
11th and the 24th Virginia of Terry's brigade. The enemy now bore down
heavily upon our right front, advancing through an open field, we being
in a skirt of woods, from which we sent into them a murderous volley.
The smoke clearing away, it was revealed that his whole line had been
shattered, large numbers of his dead and wounded on the ground, the
living fleeing in full haste. In the meantime the enemy had thrown a
heavy force around both the Confederate flanks, threatening to envelop
us between his columns, and cutting our line of retreat, forming
something of the shape of a horse-shoe, we being in the toe, having the
heel open, as the only chance to get out. This gap in the heel was much
broadened by a charge of the Confederate cavalry on the right. It was
now dark, the command badly scattered, and almost surrounded by the
enemy. We moved to the rear as rapidly as possible, and those remaining
not killed, wounded or captured, made their way across the South Side
railroad, where camp was made.
This was one of the most fiercely and best contested battles of the
war, disparity of numbers considered. It can be safely and truthfully
asserted by those present who witnessed what occurred that never were
troops placed in a more trying situation--outflanked on both wings,
attacked front flank and rear, by a force fully four times their
numbers, in a comparatively flat, open country, away from supports,
without shelter save rude log breastworks, hastily thrown up, occupied
for a short time during the fight, which was as close as fearless men
could make it. There was no panic, for the men rallied and fought again
and again, until dark, when the enemy desisted. Much of the fighting
was so close that there was a question as to who would be the victors.
General Grant in his Memoirs says of this battle: "It was dusk when our
troops under Sheridan went over the parapets of the enemy. The two
armies were mingled together there for a time in such manner that it
was almost a question which one was going to demand the surrender of
the other."
It now appears that the army of the enemy on the field numbered above
26,000, while I am satisfied we could not have had exceeding 8000 men
at the opening of the battle. We had the consolidated brigades of
Ransom and Wallace, about 1000; Steuart's brigade, about 1000; Corse's
brigade, about 1100; Terry's brigade, about 900; cavalry, 3500, and
artillerists 300; Rosser's cavalry division guarding the trains, not in
the battle.
The Federal loss was 124 killed and 706 wounded; the Confederate loss,
450 killed, 750 wounded. The Confederates lost four guns, eleven colors
and 3244 prisoners, a loss which the reader will see from statements
made was by us sorely felt.
I do not know the division, brigade or regimental losses, but they were
severe in the regiment, while Company D lost but six men--Crawford,
Dudley, Sumner and Mullins, as prisoners. John A. Hale and William D.
Peters severely wounded, both got off the field. Captain Bane,
Lieutenant Taylor and the following men: Bolton, Crawford, Darr,
Dudley, Eaton, Frazier, Fry, Gordon, Hale (J. A.), Henderson, Hurt (J.
J.), Meadows, Mullins, Minnich (C), Minnich (G. A.), Peters, Shannon,
Stafford, Sumner, Suthern, Wiley, Yager and the writer--25--were all
the men and officers of Company D in this battle of Five Forks.
In Warren's swing around our left he had killed, wounded and captured a
large part of our dismounted cavalry on that wing, practically the
whole of the brigades of Ransom and Wallace and a large part of
Steuart's. After this capture we could not have had more than 4500 men
left, who kept up and maintained the fight until 6 o'clock P.M. It was
simply a yielding to overwhelming numbers, and the strangest thing of
all is that we were not all captured or killed. It was within the
power of the Federals at any time after 4 o'clock P.M. to have made
prisoners of us all, and nothing but bad Federal generalship and the
protection of God saved us, for the Union army were brave enough. There
is no doubt about Sheridan's men fighting; they were men many of whom
for gallant conduct had been taken from other arms of the service and
placed in the cavalry. They were brave, reckless, and withal generous
foes.
In closing this account of the battle of Five Forks I here insert some
extracts from General Longstreet's book, "Bull Run to Appomattox."
Speaking of Warren's flank movement and after Ransom's and Wallace's
brigades had been broken up, he says: "The brigades of Steuart and
Terry changed front and received the rolling battle ... the Confederate
brigades were pushed back to their extreme right, where in turn Corse's
brigade changed front to receive the march." Again: "The position was
not of General Pickett's choosing, and from his orders he assumed he
would be reinforced. His execution was all that a skilful commander
could apply.... Though taken by surprise, there was no panic in any
part of the command; brigade after brigade changed front to the left
and received the overwhelming battle as it rolled on until it was
crushed back to the next, before it could deploy out to aid the
front--or flank attack, until the last brigade of the brave Corse
changed and stood alone on the left.... It is not claiming too much for
that grand division to say that, aided by the brigades of Ransom and
Wallace, they could not have been dislodged from their intrenched
position by parallel battle, even by the great odds against them. As it
was, Ayer's division, staggered under the pelting blows that it met,
and Crawford's drifted from the blows against it, until it thus found
the key of the battle away beyond the Confederate limits. In
generalship Pickett was not a bit below the 'gay rider.' His defensive
battle was better organized, and it is possible that he would have
gained the day if his cavalry had been diligent in giving information
of the movements of the enemy."
Chapter XXVII
The Retreat.
Battle of Sailor's Creek.
Captured.
Early in the morning of Sunday, April 2, we marched from our camp near
South Side railway into the main road leading west to Amelia Court
House. Reaching this road, we found portions of Heth's and Wilcox's
divisions moving along the same, by whom we were informed that our
lines around Petersburg had been broken and they cut off from the rest
of the army.
We pushed on that day, learning en route that General A. P. Hill had
been killed before Petersburg. We went into camp near Deep Creek,
hungry and conscious of loss, both in the breaking of the lines at
Petersburg and in the death of sturdy, gallant A. P. Hill--and still
there was no murmuring.
During the forenoon on Monday the enemy's cavalry came up with our rear
guard, when some brisk skirmishing occurred. We passed Deep Creek near
2 P.M., the enemy pressing closely. Late in the evening we received a
scanty supply of rations, the first since March 29--four days. Beyond
Deep Creek a short distance we went into camp; moving next morning on
the road to Amelia Court House, but the enemy had been there ahead of
us, had made an attack upon a wagon train, and were driven off by the
teamsters and stragglers, leaving their dead and some of their wounded
on the streets. Here we heard of the evacuation of Richmond. This,
though looked for, brought deep gloom over not a few of the men, who
for more than three years had not faltered in hope of ultimate success.
From the time Amelia Court House was left at noon on the 4th until
Thursday, the 6th, at the close of the battle of Sailor's Creek, there
was scarcely an hour, day or night, that we were not engaged in
skirmishing with the enemy. They were on the flank, and everywhere,
after our beleaguered troops. We were forced to halt and form line of
battle, once or more a square, to prevent capture. The march was
necessarily slow on account of the wagon and artillery trains, which
moved at a snail's pace through the mud, drawn by famished animals,
which had had but little food for days. While soldiers may live for a
time on enthusiasm, mules and horses must have corn or oats. As for
ourselves, we were without food, save a little parched corn, when we
could stop long enough to parch it; otherwise we took it raw, shelling
it from the cob and eating it as we marched. The small ration issued to
us at Deep Creek had only been sufficient for one square meal. Many of
the men were overcome with fatigue, hunger and want of sleep, some
actually going to sleep walking along, stumbling and falling in the
road. No food was to be had in the country along the road upon which we
were marching, as the people had been stripped of everything in the way
of food by those who had preceded us. It was unsafe to venture far from
the command on account of the enemy's cavalry now on all the roads, and
many of our men were made prisoners by going away from the line of
march in search of food. We halted for rest but once during the night
of Wednesday, the 5th, then only for a few minutes, in line of battle,
for the enemy was close upon us.
It was the general expression that if all of our marchings, sufferings,
hardships, privations and sacrifices for all of the preceding years of
the war were summed up, shaken together and pressed down, they would
not equal those we were now undergoing on this tramp.
At daylight on Thursday, April 6, a point was reached near Sailor's
Creek, a small tributary of the Appomattox, a short distance from High
Bridge, and probably ten miles from Farmville. The marching of our
depleted and exhausted forces for the past two days had been conducted
during the day by throwing out skirmishers on both flanks, and calling
them in at dark, our rear now being cared for by the troops of General
Ewell. The skirmishers in front and on the flank became actively
engaged at sunrise, the balls from the enemy's sharpshooters whistling
over and among the men of the regiment. Here I saw for the first and
last time General Henry A. Wise, a tall, slender, gray-haired man,
straight as an arrow, apparently vigorous for a man of his years. We
were now to fight our last engagement--the battle of Sailor's Creek.
The skirmishing now grew more animated, we expecting every moment to be
attacked, but the enemy was merely attracting our attention and trying
to hold us where we were until his infantry columns could come up. In
the afternoon, probably 2:30 or a little later, a heavy force of the
enemy's cavalry made a charge on a battalion of Confederate artillery
in advance of us on the same road. To check this cavalry charge, we
were hurried across Sailor's Creek, reaching the guns of Colonel
Huger's battalion in time to see most of the artillerists, including
Colonel Huger, taken away as prisoners. The enemy not being able to
take these guns away, as we were now at their heels, they hurriedly
chopped with an axe the spokes out of the wheels, disabling them for
present use, then retreated, we following in line of battle and going
forward through an open field, meeting no resistance, and halting on a
piece of high ground. A squadron of Federal cavalry, spying General
Pickett with his staff riding up in our rear, made a dash for him;
about the same time he discovered the object of these bold riders, and
galloped quickly to the lines of the brigade to our left, which was in
a body of scattering timber. These reckless troopers pushed up after
the General until close to our men, who fired upon them, emptying every
saddle. This incident is given to show the reader how desperate was
this prolonged game of death.
On the brow of the hill where our brigade halted on the road on which
we had been marching, there was intersection with another road leading
directly west. Here we hurriedly tore away an old worm fence, piling up
the rails to make some protection against rifle balls. On the left rear
of Pickett's and part of Bushrod Johnson's divisions on Sailor's Creek
were Custis Lee's and Kershaw's 3000 men under General Ewell, with whom
we had no connection, nor with Mahone's division and other troops ahead
of us, leaving gaps through which the Federal cavalry passed, enabling
them to get on our flanks and rear. The enemy's troops in this
engagement--one army corps with three cavalry divisions--numbered
25,000 or more men, while the Confederates did not have 7500 all told.
The fighting was desperate. Along our front and fully five hundred
yards away we could see passing to our right heavy bodies of the enemy,
evidently bent upon getting ahead of us. Moreover, this must have been
manifest to our commanding officers, who permitted us to remain idle
for several hours and until the enemy made full preparations to attack
us. That somebody blundered, there is no doubt, as any enlisted man in
the ranks could clearly see. We should have moved on. The attack came
between 3 and 4 o'clock P.M. by an assault on Munford's dismounted
cavalry in a skirt of woods to our right. This attack, as were others
on our right front, was repulsed.
General Terry, our brigade commander, had given the order to move to
the right, when he discovered another advance upon us, this time in
heavy force. We were ordered to remain where we were and not to fire
until the enemy were close enough to see the whites of their eyes, then
fire and charge with the bayonet. We were behind the rails, close to
the ground. The enemy, armed with repeating rifles, when within
seventy-five yards or so opened upon us, filling the air with balls,
and coming at us. Every man who raised his head above the rails gave
his life for the venture. Captain Harris, the Adjutant General of the
brigade, raised his head to look and fell back dead; a sandy haired man
of my regiment at my elbow met the same fate. He was from Orange County
and never knew what hit him. Then came a lull in the firing in front,
and I heard a noise behind us; looking around, I saw a column of
Federal cavalry close behind us, one of whom had boldly dashed up
behind our regiment, seized the colors, and with drawn saber compelled
Torbett, the color bearer, to surrender the same. Such was the
character and bravery of the men we had to fight. Some one just then
cried, "Fire!" and a portion of our regiment delivered its fire into
the faces of the enemy in front. In a moment began an indiscriminate
fight with clubbed muskets, flagstaffs, pistols and sabers. In a few
moments all was over. We had met the enemy and we were theirs. This
final struggle was most tragic. We were now marched out and surrounded
by a cordon of cavalry.
Ewell's, Kershaw's and Custis Lee's battle on the left was still
raging, but to terminate, as had ours, in their capture, together with
the greater part of their commands, which had made a brave and gallant
fight, but like ourselves were the victims of gross blunders on the
part of someone in authority on the field, as well as overwhelmed by
superior numbers. This battle ended my activities in the army. There
remains only to describe my experience as a prisoner of war, which I
will do later on.
The Federal losses in this battle were 166 killed, 1014 wounded. The
Confederate losses, 268 killed, 2032 wounded, together with some 6000
prisoners claimed by the enemy. A portion of the division escaped with
General Pickett and reached Appomattox.
I am unable to give the number of the killed, wounded and captured of
our division, brigade or regiment. I do not, however, believe the 7th
Virginia in this battle numbered two hundred, the brigade five hundred,
the division not exceeding two thousand. Company D had two officers and
sixteen men in this battle, having no loss in killed or wounded.
Suffice it to say that with our small number we could not have been
driven from our position by parallel battle line.
Four years before this company left Pearisburg, Virginia, with 102 men,
the majority of whom were as promising and gallant young men as
Virginia produced. During the time of service twenty recruits were
added, making 122 in all, and now here we were with eighteen left. The
reader is left to ask where were the 104. Let the crippled and mangled
survivors who had been discharged, the graves of the noble dead
scattered all over Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, make answer.
Can anyone wonder that we eighteen were drawn together that day by a
bond of suffering and blighted hope, closer than ever before?
Here are the names of the men of Company D present in this last tragic
struggle, to-wit: Captain R. H. Bane, Lieutenant Thomas S. Taylor; the
men, Fry, Yager, Shannon, Bolton, Darr, Eaton, Gordon, Henderson, J. J.
Hurt, C. Minnich, G. A. Minnich, Suthern, Stafford, Wiley, Meadows and
the writer.
Strange were the scenes among the captives at Sailor's Creek: some
cried, some prayed, others were angry; some cursed, abusing the one who
blundered, leading us into the trap to be captured, while a few were
cheerful, saying all is not yet lost, but it was apparent to the writer
that we had fired our last gun. The flag we had followed to victory on
so many fields was now furled forever, and strong men wept!
The sun was fast sinking; the men lay down upon the ground and were
soon asleep, many not waking until the sun was high in the heavens the
next day. Gloom was depicted on every countenance, and sorrow was in
every face. These men had seen their comrades go down day by day, by
which they were impressed that if the war continued it was only a
question of time when they too would bite the dust. They, however, had
this consolation regarding their fallen comrades: that they had gone
down in the conscientious belief in the justness of their cause, in the
hope of victory, and had not lived to see their flag furled in defeat,
and were saved the humiliation of tasting the bitter cup of submission,
of which we were to drink to its very dregs. Maybe these after all were
the lucky men--who knows? The gallantry and devotion of our soldiers in
the unequal struggle proved how thorough were their convictions of the
righteousness of their cause. Their devotion to that cause and their
kindness and humanity to those whom the fate of war placed in their
power, proved them worthy sons of noble ancestry. These men viewed the
attempt at coercion on the part of the Northern people as aggression,
and their action in defense of their country, homes and firesides, as
an inherent, inalienable right--a defense of constitutional liberty.
Immediately upon our capture, the Federal soldiers stripped many of
our men of all their good hats, boots and small trinkets. Colonel
Flowerree, who had a splendid new hat and boots, was deprived of both,
and in lieu thereof was given a worn out, dingy old cap and rough
shoes. I think they took these things as souvenirs--war trophies--they
did not need them, for they were well supplied.
We were without food and had been practically so since the preceding
Monday. Our captors themselves were poorly supplied, but our humane,
brave and generous foes divided their scanty supply with us. All of the
men captured in the battle of the day before, about six thousand, the
Federals then claimed, were congregated with us in the field in which
we were placed.
Chapter XXVIII
To Prison at Point Lookout, Maryland.
Prison Life.
Release.
Home.
Near noon on Friday, April 7, the march was taken up for prison at
Point Lookout, a distance of about 150 miles, though at that time we
did not know our destination. The Federal soldiers were still taking
from our men hats and other articles that pleased their fancy. I noted
in my description of the battle of Dreury's Bluff that an Irish
sergeant of the 1st Virginia regiment had picked up a fine hat on the
battlefield which he had given to me because it would not fit his head,
but did mine. I kept this hat until the opening of the campaign in
March, 1865, when I put it on, believing this would be our last
campaign. When captured at Sailor's Creek I was wearing this hat, and
on observing the Federal soldiers capturing hats from our men, I kept
as far away from them as I could until we began the march on the 7th,
when, crossing a pond, I soused my hat in the muddy water, which made
it then appear as worthless, but it was safe in my possession. I wore
it to prison, then cleaned off the mud and wore it home. This hat, a
blanket and a canteen were the only Federal trophies of the war I
carried home.
Late in the evening of April 7, while on the march, we met a drove of
beef cattle being driven forward for use of the Federal army. We were
halted while a number of these beeves were slaughtered, dressed, cut up
into small parcels and handed us where we stood in the road, and we
marched on without opportunity to cook the beef, which we devoured
blood raw, without salt. This probably may shock the reader, but it was
the best that could be done.
On the night march of the 7th from Burkeville I could have escaped, but
I reasoned that if I did I would most likely be recaptured, and if I
was not I would probably starve, as there was no food in the country,
so I determined to risk our captors to give us food.
Next morning we were near Nottoway and passed that day through
Petersburg, halting on Thursday, the 13th, near 10 o'clock A.M., at
the Federal commissary, nearly a mile beyond the city, where a
bountiful supply of food was given us--the first we had received since
March 29. Several men were too sick to eat, I of the number, enfeebled
as we were from our long continued marching and from dysentery,
resulting from eating raw, warm beef, without salt. Resuming the march
late in the evening, City Point was reached at dark, where we were
huddled together, forced to stand all night in mud several inches deep,
in a drizzling rain, without rest or sleep, not even a place to sit
down, unless in the mud and water. Such is war.
Next day, April 14, we were placed aboard a steamer, that evening
dropping down the James River. Next morning, Saturday the 15th, found
our vessel anchored off Point Lookout. Here we first heard of Mr.
Lincoln's assassination the preceding night, which at first we were
not disposed to credit, but were soon convinced that some fearful
catastrophe had taken place, as the flags on the shipping were at half
mast. As soon as we were landed we became satisfied that the report of
Mr. Lincoln's death was true, the Federal soldiers informing us that
any signs of exultation would result in the opening of the batteries on
us. We saw that the guns were pointed at the prison. They, however,
mistook the spirit and feelings of our men, who, though stung by
defeat, yet brave and chivalrous foes, they could in no wise justify,
excuse or palliate so cold-blooded a murder, much less rejoice at its
commission. They regretted greatly the death of Mr. Lincoln, and spoke
of him in the tenderest terms, saying had he lived he would have been
kind to our people.
As we entered the prison walls, every man was searched and everything
of value (which was little) taken from him. The quarters consisted of
small tents, large enough for about five men, into which were crowded
about eight to ten, divided into companies in charge of our own
sergeants.
Around the prison was a high plank fence with a platform at the top,
on which the guards made their beats. The water was bad--brackish,
discoloring our teeth. The number of Confederates in this prison was
more than 23,000 men, covering about twenty-two acres of land--more
than 1,000 to the acre. The number of deaths among the prisoners
reported was, from April to July, over 6,800. Among these was Josephus
Suthern, of Company D, 7th regiment. I found in this prison Sumner,
Crawford, Dudley and Mullins, of Company D, who, with those captured
at Sailor's Creek, to wit: Fry, Yager, Shannon, Bolton, Darr, Eaton,
Gordon, Henderson, Jim Hurt, Meadows, C. Minnich, George A. Minnich,
Suthern, Stafford, Wiley and the writer, making the number twenty in
prison. When we met under these new conditions, strange sensations were
experienced, as the reader may well suppose.
The only place we were allowed to go outside of the prison, and that
only in the daytime, was on the Chesapeake bayside. Our rations
consisted of eight ounces of loaf bread per day, a thin piece of bacon
or salt pork boiled and cut so thin that it was almost transparent, and
a pint cup of bean soup, in which we occasionally found a bean. As a
result we were always hungry--went to bed hungry, dreamed of being
hungry, and got up ready for breakfast with the same feeling. I went to
prison weighing one hundred and sixty-five pounds, not sick a day after
I got there, and came out weighing one hundred and twenty-seven pounds.
Carrying out the ratio, if I had stayed there six months I would have
weighed nothing. We were constantly in danger of being wounded or
losing our lives by the reckless firing of the negro guards into the
prison at some one claimed by them to be violating the prison rules. We
had nothing to read except now and then when we found some man with a
Bible or Testament. Some of the men were ingenious workmen, making
rings from gutta percha buttons and selling them to the guards.
Near the middle of June orders came for the discharge of the prisoners,
upon taking the oath of fidelity to the United States. The men were to
be taken out in alphabetical order and transported away as rapidly as
could be done. As soon as it was announced that men's names beginning
with the letter A would repair to headquarters, then it seemed to all
appearances that half the prisoners had names beginning with the letter
A. Many a poor fellow, in his anxiety to get away, went out under an
assumed name. The letter J was called on Wednesday, June 28, when the
numbers in the prison had been greatly reduced, though only the ninth
letter of the alphabet had been passed.
Repairing to headquarters, thirty-two fell into line under the American
flag unfolded over their heads and had the oath administered to them;
the officers taking a personal description of each man, furnishing him
the oath and certificate of discharge in writing, when he was passed
outside the prison wall. Here follows an exact copy of the oath taken
by me and certificate of discharge from prison:
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
I, David E. Johnston, of the County of Giles and State of Va.,
do solemnly swear that I will support, protect and defend the
Constitution and Government of the United States against all
enemies, whether domestic or foreign; that I will bear true faith,
allegiance and loyalty to the same, any ordinance, resolution, or
laws of any state, convention or legislature to the contrary
notwithstanding; and further, that I will faithfully perform all
the duties which may be required of me by the laws of the United
States; and that I take this oath freely and voluntarily without
any mental reservation or evasion whatever.
(Signed) D. E. JOHNSTON.
Subscribed and sworn to before me this 28th day of June, A.D.
1865.
(Signed) A. C. BRADY,
Maj. and Provost Marshal.
The above named has fair complexion, brown hair and hazel eyes, and
is 5 feet 9-1/2 inches high.
CERTIFICATE OF RELEASE OF PRISONER OF WAR.
Headquarters, Point Lookout, Md.
Provost Marshal's Office, June 28, 1865.
I hereby certify that David E. Johnston, prisoner of war, having
this day taken the Oath of Allegiance to the United States, is, in
conformity with instructions from the War Department, hereby
released and discharged. In Witness Whereof I hereunto affix my
official signature and stamp.
(Signed) A. C. BRADY,
Maj. and Provost Marshal.
A. C. BRADY,
June 28, 1865.
Maj. and Provost Marshal.
The reader may be interested to know that I have grown a full inch in
height and gained more than 80 pounds in weight.
Steamers were at the wharf and as soon as it was known that a
sufficient number of those whose destination was Richmond were
discharged to load the vessel, we went aboard, landing at Richmond the
evening of June 29, and walked up on to the streets, which for the most
part were deserted, the city in ruins.
This was Richmond, on the majestic James--the proudest city of
Virginia, for whose capture great armies had contended for nearly four
years; not only the capital of Virginia, but of the Confederacy, doing
more for the Confederate soldier than any other place in the South. Her
people were intelligent and high minded and patriotic. I had seen her
in her power and glory, but now in the ashes of her destruction,
poverty and humiliation. I have since seen her in her opulence and
more than her former greatness and glory.
On landing we found ourselves among a people as poor and destitute as
we. With no money, no food, no place to stay, traveling without scrip
or purse, we finally made our way to old Chimborazo Hospital, where we
slept that night on the grass in the yard. The next morning early we
made our way to the Danville depot, where a crowd of several hundred
ex-Confederate soldiers were congregated, trying to get some kind of
transportation home. An old, broken down engine was found by some one
in the shop and some box cars in the yard, which were cobbled on,
making up a train sufficient, by close packing inside the boxes and on
top, to bear the crowd away. I, with others, concluded to try the top
of a box car, as we would have more room and plenty of air, but the
car, being covered with metal, the heat up there from both the sun and
the metal on the car made it no very comfortable place. The engine, too
cranky to do much pulling, stuck on the first grade, but after much
labor it started again, making slow progress. Late in the evening we
had a severe electric storm, accompanied by a heavy downpour of rain,
giving those on the boxes a thorough drenching. Those of us going to
Lynchburg left the train at Burkeville to make Farmville, which we did
in time to catch another train of box cars which carried us to within
six miles of Lynchburg, where we boarded a packet boat, getting into
Lynchburg late in the evening. There we found quarters in a building
called the "Soldiers' Home." We had little to eat that night, but more
the next day, Sunday, having to remain over till Monday morning for a
train that would carry us westward over the Virginia and Tennessee
Railroad. Leaving on Monday morning, we reached Big Spring at the foot
of the Alleghanies, where the railroad was again broken. By this time
our numbers had been reduced to three--Leonard, of Carroll; Sam Lucas,
of Giles, and the writer. We now trudged along afoot till we passed
through Alleghany tunnel, where Lucas left us, turning to the right
for his home. Leonard and I tramped on, dark overtaking us at
Christiansburg depot, where, hungry and worn out, we sought the shades
of a friendly oak and, with nothing to eat, lay down and went to sleep.
Our tramp was resumed early on Tuesday, July 4. After a mile or so,
finding ourselves growing weaker and our hunger increasing, we then for
the first time decided to beg, and succeeded in getting some bread and
our canteens filled with milk, which we finished on the spot. Moving
on, we crossed New River, on the partially destroyed railroad bridge,
beyond which a mile or so we received another supply of milk. On
reaching Dublin, my comrade and friend, Leonard, bidding me goodbye,
took the left hand and I the right. I was now heading directly for
home, and after walking about two and a half miles, it being about 2
P.M., I decided to sit down and rest. I propped myself against a small
oak sapling by the roadside, and when I awoke the sun was behind the
western mountains. Eight miles further on I reached the home of Mr.
Thomas Shannon, who kindly took me in, fed me and gave me a bed. About
3 P.M. on the next day, Wednesday, July 5, 1865, four years, one month
and twelve days from the day on which I had left for the war, I reached
home--satisfied with my experience, with no more desire for war, yet
proud of my record as a Confederate soldier, as I am to this day; with
no apologies to make to anyone, as I, in common with my fellow
soldiers, repudiate as unsound and baseless any charge of rebellion or
treason in the war. We had resorted to the revolutionary right to
establish separate government vouchsafed to us in the Declaration of
Independence. I did not fight to destroy the government of the United
States, nor for the perpetuation of the institution of slavery, for
which I cared nothing, but did fight for four years of my young manhood
for a principle I knew to be right. Had such not been true, I would not
have risked my life, my all, therefor, nor have been a Virginia
Confederate soldier.
I doubt not, had the South at any time during the contest agreed to
return to the Union, that the Federal soldier would have thrown down
his musket and gone home, for he was not fighting for the destruction
of slavery, but for the preservation and restoration of the Union. I
attach no blame to the brave Union soldier. He was as sincere and
conscientious in the fight he made as was I in the one I made. We were
both right from our respective viewpoints. With charity for all and
malice towards none, this narrative is closed.
Chapter XXIX
The Conclusion.
War Ends.
The Return to Civil Pursuits.
The Confederate Soldier.
The war was now ended, the issues involved settled and closed, so far
as they could be by the sword. The Federal government had stood the
test, proved itself too strong for the allied seceded states,
overthrown their separate government, maintained by a separate people
for four years, and established the fact that no state could secede or
leave the Union unless by revolution and force of arms strong enough to
defy and successfully resist the power of the general government.
Slavery was abolished and could not exist among the American people. To
accomplish these two things had cost thousands of lives, anguish, blood
and billions of treasure.
With the close of the war the survivors of Company D who were either at
home or in hospital when the war ended, or who had gotten home from the
surrender at Appomattox, or had been released from military prisons,
accepted the result of the conflict in good faith and again entered the
pursuits of civil life. As they had been gallant soldiers, they became
law-abiding, upright and worthy citizens. Numbers of the company had
perished on the battlefield, in hospitals and in prison. Some were
buried on the field where they fell, with no monument or slab to mark
their last resting place, yet they died for a cause the justness of
which they never for a moment doubted. The survivors lived to see their
efforts for separate government defeated, the principles and the
righteousness of the cause not lost, but the struggle to establish and
maintain the same had failed. This failure is, however, no argument
against the justness and right of the cause. No braver, nobler company
of men had part in the contest than the company of which I write.
Theirs was a sacrifice for liberty not to be gained and a struggle in
which all was lost save honor and manhood.
Now (1914), nearly fifty years have passed since the close of the
mighty conflict, and there remain alive of those brave men who stood on
the firing line, baring their bosoms to the storm, but few, eighteen,
so far as I know or can ascertain, and whose names are as follows: A.
L. Fry, J. T. Frazier, John A. Hale, B. L. Hoge, James J. Hurt, David
E. Johnston, ---- Lewy, N. J. Morris, Thomas N. Mustain, A. C. Pack,
William D. Peters, John W. Sarver, Alexander Skeens, Joseph Skeens, W.
H. H. Snidow, Thomas J. Stafford, Gordon L. Wilburn and Jesse B. Young.
In what is said herein in praise of the honor and glory won in war and
peace by the Confederate soldier, particularly of those of the Army of
Northern Virginia, with which I served throughout the four years'
struggle, I do not for one moment mean or intend to detract from the
laurels won by the heroic Union soldier, who stood in the firing line,
faithfully discharging his duty; for he, as well as we, was contending
for principles regarded sacred and for which we had risked our lives,
and in which struggle one or the other of the combatants must yield.
All were American soldiers, and the glory and honor won by each is the
common heritage of the American people, not to be obscured or clouded
by the questions about which we differed. Each struggled to maintain
the right as God gave him to see the right.
We often talked along the skirmish lines with Union soldiers and they
invariably and vehemently denied that they were fighting to abolish
or destroy slavery. Particularly was this true of those from the
Northwestern states. In opposition to our claim or contention that we
were fighting for independence--separate government--they insisted that
they were fighting for the Union, a common, undivided country; did not
want to see the country broken up by division; and I feel fairly safe
in stating that this feeling and sentiment largely dominated the great
majority of the Union soldiers. I recall one or more conversations with
Union soldiers along the lines on the above subject, in which they told
me that if they believed they were fighting to free the slaves they
would quit the army and go home.
The Confederate soldier, as I have already said, accepted in good faith
the result of the war, bore no malice toward those whom he had fought
face to face, knowing:
"Malice is a wrinkled hag, hell-born;
Her heart is hate, her soul is scorn.
Blinded with blood, she cannot see
To do any deed of charity."
And again remembering the thought expressed in the lines:
"You cannot tame the tiger,
You dare not kill the dove;
But every gate you bar with hate
Will open wide to love."
No such army ever trod this earth as the Army of Northern Virginia,
composed of the best body of fighting men that ever shouldered a
musket. President Roosevelt said of them: "The world has never seen
better soldiers than those who followed Lee."
The Federal General Hooker--"Fighting Joe," as he was aptly called by
his soldiers, in his testimony before the committee of Congress on the
conduct of the war, in speaking of the Army of Northern Virginia, among
other things said: "That army had by discipline alone a character for
steadiness and efficiency unsurpassed, in my judgment, in ancient or
modern times. We have not been able to rival it."
Colonel David F. Pugh, a gallant Federal soldier, and a late commander
of the Grand Army of the Republic, in an address delivered by him at
the unveiling of the Confederate monument at Camp Chase, Ohio, June 7,
1902, said: "All the bitterness has gone out of my heart, and in spite
of a Confederate bullet in my body, I do not hesitate to acknowledge
that their valor is part of the common heritage of the whole country.
We can never challenge the fame of those men whose skill and valor made
them the idols of the Confederate army. The fame of Lee, Jackson, the
Johnstons, Gordon, Longstreet, the Hills, Hood and Stuart and many
thousands of non-commissioned officers and private soldiers of the
Confederate armies, whose names are not mentioned on historic pages,
can never be tarnished by the carping criticisms of the narrow and
shallow minded."
If this be the estimate of a Northern president and of a leading
general of our adversaries, who at one time commanded the gallant Army
of the Potomac, and of the other brave Federal soldier whom I have
quoted, what shall we in truth say for ourselves?
Lieutenant-General Early, among the bravest and best soldiers in the
Army of Northern Virginia, and who fought nearly a hundred battles and
skirmishes, hence competent to speak on the subject, in his Memoirs
says: "I believe the world has never produced a body of men superior in
courage, patriotism and endurance to the private soldiers of the
Confederate armies. I have repeatedly, seen these soldiers submit with
cheerfulness to privations and hardships which would appear to be
almost incredible; and the wild cheers of our brave men, when their
lines sent back opposing hosts of Federal troops, staggering, reeling
and flying, have often thrilled every fiber in my heart. I have seen
with my own eyes ragged, barefooted and hungry Confederate soldiers
perform deeds which, if performed in days of yore by mailed warriors in
glittering armor, would have inspired the harp of the minstrel and the
pen of the poet."
But arguing the nobility of the Confederate soldier is like arguing the
brightness of the sun at noonday. The Confederate soldier was truly an
American, for his people in the South were the truest type of Americans
in the land, having very little foreign population among them. Again,
this Confederate soldier was born and reared a gentleman, was so by
instinct. He was not a mercenary; he was neither for conquest nor
aggression, but stood purely for self-defense. He believed in his
inmost soul that no people had juster cause, higher aspirations, or
made braver or nobler resolves for cause, country, families, homes and
firesides. I turn to ask, who were these Confederate soldiers? They
were principally country folks, farmers, mechanics, school boys, as
stated; native born Americans, descendants of Revolutionary patriots,
by no means all slave owners; thousands never owned slaves, and many
were opposed to the institution. The Confederate soldier was always
impatient of military restraint, feeling himself the equal of and as
good as any man, and not inferior to his superior in rank; in battle,
as a rule, his own general; his individuality and self-reliance, among
his noted characteristics, were the crowning glory of his actions, and
this self-reliance taught him when it was wise and prudent to fight,
and when it was the better part of valor to decline. On the battlefield
he was at his best; "his clothes might be ragged, but his musket and
saber were bright. His haversack empty, but he kept his cartridge box
filled. Often his feet were bare, blistered and bleeding; occasionally
he might straggle on the march, but was up when the battle was on."
Barefoot, ragged, without food, no pay and nothing to buy if he had
money, he marched further, laughed louder, making the welkin ring with
his rebel yell; endured more genuine suffering, hardship and fatigue,
fought more bravely, complained and fretted less, than any soldier who
marched beneath the banners of Napoleon. His nerve was steady and his
aim was sure, and his powers of endurance and resistance unmeasured.
This same Confederate soldier fought and hoped and hoped and fought:
"Sometimes he won, then hopes were high;
Again he lost, but it would not die;
And so to the end he followed and fought,
With love and devotion, which could not be bought."
Though his ears were often greeted with the cries of woe and distress
of those at home (enough to break his heart), his ardor chilled not; he
had a never faltering courage; his spirit remained unbroken, his
convictions never yielded. In the darkest hour of our peril, in the
midst of dark and lowering clouds, with scarcely the glimmer of a star
of apparent hope, he still stood firm and grasped his musket with a
tighter grip. Following is the description given of this soldier by
another:
"Look at the picture of this soldier as he stood in the iron and leaden
hail, with his old, worn out slouch hat, his bright eyes glistening
with excitement, powder-begrimed face, rent and ragged clothing, with
the prints of his bare feet in the dust of the battle, a genuine
tatterdemalion, fighting bravely, with no hope of reward, promotion or
pay, with little to eat and that often cornbread and sorghum molasses.
If he stopped a Yankee bullet and was thereby killed, he was buried on
the field and forgotten, except by comrades or a loving old mother at
home."
"In the solemn shades of the wood that swept
The field where his comrades found him,
They buried him there--and the big tears crept
Into strong men's eyes that had seldom wept.
His mother--God pity her!--smiled and slept,
Dreaming her arms were around him."
In modern times there has never been such valor and heroism displayed
as in our Civil War, never such soldiers as the Union and Confederate,
and certainly never such as the Confederate soldiers, and it would be
nothing to their credit to have achieved victories over less valorous
foes than the Union soldiers, and no credit to the Union soldiers that
they overwhelmed men of less bravery. The individuality of the
Confederate soldier was never lost, and this with his self-possession
and intelligent thought made him well nigh invincible. The Army of
Northern Virginia as a whole was never driven from a battlefield,
although confronted by as good soldiers as were on the continent. No
danger could appall these men of Lee, no peril awe, no hardships
dismay, no numbers intimidate. To them duty was an inspiration. They
had devastated no fields, desecrated no temples and plundered no
people, always respecting woman, and feared no man. The record of these
soldiers since the war is clean, their names a stranger to criminal
records; few, if any, who followed Lee have been behind the bars of a
jail. He was their great exemplar. Thousands of these non-commissioned
officers and private soldiers, after the first year of the war, were
fitted not only to command regiments, but could well have filled much
higher military positions.
Great soldiers were Lee, Johnston, Jackson, Longstreet, Hills, Pickett,
Stuart and others, but who made them great? No generals ever had such
soldiers. It was these Confederates in the ranks that made the names of
their generals immortal. Who would have ever heard of them, or of
General Grant, but for the Confederate soldier?
What this Confederate soldier has been to the South since the war
cannot be measured or stated. Shortly after the close of the conflict
and he had reached his home, if he had one left, his troubles were not
over. He was confronted with the aftermath--the carpet-bagger and the
scallawag, as well as by military-enforced reconstruction, the blackest
spot on the page of American history. Well we might and did forgive the
wrongs of war, but how were we to overlook and forget the outrageous
and shameful things done in the name of restoration of civil
government, by the carpetbagger, Northern political pest and
pirate--the Southern scallawag, the low, mean, unworthy Southern white
man, thrown to the surface by the revolution, but, like all dirt and
filth, to go to the bottom and sink in the mud when the flood had
subsided.
Serious and grave as these questions were, which sorely tried the
Confederate soldier's courage, patience and forbearance, as they had
been tested in war, he met them bravely, firmly and by his indomitable
spirit directed and controlled them. His broad, keen, intelligent
knowledge of men and things finally carried him through the trying
ordeal, and crowned his labors with stable governments for the states
of his Southland, the most American conservative portion of the
republic, made so largely by the brain, brawn, energy and industry of
the Confederate soldier, who has been the leader, promoter and
architect of her industrial and political fortunes, the idol of her
people, her representative in the every fiber and thought of her
existence and governments. He has raised her from her ashes and poverty
into a veritable garden and to industrial and political power. The last
roll call will shortly be sounded, his sun will soon set--what a hero!
What an object of interest, will be the last surviving soldier of the
Confederacy (I crave to be the one!), the only and last representative
of that government of which the great English scholar and poet,
Professor Worsely, has written:
"No nation ever rose so white and fair,
Or fell so free of crime."
Appendix No. 1
RANK, WOUNDS, DEATHS, DISCHARGES, ETC.
No. 1. James H. French, captain first year of war; led the company in
battles of Bull Run and First Manassas.
No. 2. Eustace Gibson, first lieutenant first year of war; in battles
Bull Run and First Manassas. Brave soldier.
No. 3. W. A. Anderson, second lieutenant first year.
No. 4. Joel Blackard, second junior lieutenant first year; elected
captain at reorganization, April, 1862; in battles of Bull Run, First
Manassas, Williamsburg, Seven Pines, Cold Harbor; killed in Battle of
Frazier's Farm, June 30, 1862.
No. 5. R. H. Bane, sergeant; elected first lieutenant at
reorganization, April, 1862; promoted captain on death of Blackard;
wounded at First Battle of Manassas; led the company for the remainder
of the war; died since the war.
No. 6. John W. Mullins, second sergeant; promoted to first sergeant;
elected second lieutenant at reorganization, April, 1862; wounded at
Second Battle of Manassas and Howlett House, dying of wound received at
last named place.
No. 7. Elisha M. Stone, corporal; elected third lieutenant at
reorganization, April, 1862; wounded in battles of Williamsburg and
Gettysburg; captured at last named battle; remained a prisoner to close
of the war; led Company E, 7th regiment, in Battle of Gettysburg.
No. 8. Elijah R. Walker, elected second junior lieutenant in 1862;
promoted to second lieutenant on death of Mullins; wounded in battles
of Seven Pines and Gettysburg; disabled for service in last named
battle, and retired in April, 1864.
No. 9. Thomas S. Taylor, first sergeant; elected second lieutenant,
November 25, 1864; slightly wounded at Gettysburg; captured at Battle
of Sailor's Creek.
No. 10. A. C. Pack, first sergeant; in battles of Bull Run and First
Manassas; discharged on account of disability in Fall of 1861.
No. 11. B. P. Watts, elected second sergeant, but on account of ill
health not mustered into service.
No. 12. J. C. Hughes, elected third sergeant in April, 1861; in prison
at close of war.
No. 13. William D. Peters, fourth sergeant in April, 1861; third
sergeant at reorganization; severely wounded at Battle of Five Forks,
April 1, 1865.
No. 14. Hamilton J. Hale, fifth sergeant; died at Culpeper, October,
1861.
No. 15. A. L. Fry, first sergeant; wounded at First Battle of Manassas;
captured at Warrenton, September, 1862; slightly wounded at Battle of
Plymouth, N.C., April, 1864; captured at Battle of Sailor's Creek,
April, 1865; a prisoner at Point Lookout at close of the war.
No. 16. W. H. H. Snidow, second sergeant; in Confederate prison at
close of the war.
No. 17. Joseph C. Shannon, fourth sergeant; slightly wounded at Battle
of Frazier's Farm; captured at Battle of Sailor's Creek; a prisoner at
Point Lookout.
No. 18. David E. Johnston, fourth sergeant; slightly wounded at Battle
of Williamsburg; appointed sergeant-major 7th Virginia Regiment,
December 10, 1862; severely wounded at Battle of Gettysburg, July 3,
1863; left on the field and captured; also captured at Battle of
Sailor's Creek, April 6, 1865; a prisoner at Point Lookout at end of
the war.
No. 19. T. N. Mustain, second corporal; transferred 1862 to 57th
Virginia Infantry.
No. 20. John W. Hight, fourth corporal; wounded at battles of Seven
Pines and Second Manassas; captured at Gettysburg on third day's
battle; deserted.
No. 21. A. J. Thompson, first corporal; wounded at Battle of
Williamsburg; in prison at close of war. No better soldier.
No. 22. Daniel Bish, second corporal; wounded at Battle of Frazier's
Farm; killed at Battle of Gettysburg, third day.
No. 23. George C. Mullins, third corporal; captured at Battle of Five
Forks; a prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 24. Jesse B. Young, fourth corporal; temporary regimental ensign;
wounded at battles of Frazier's Farm and Gettysburg and captured; again
wounded in Battle at Clay's House. A brave and valiant soldier.
No. 25. Edward Z. Yager, first sergeant in 1864; wounded in Battle of
Williamsburg; captured at Sailor's Creek; prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 26. David C. Akers, wounded at Battle of Frazier's Farm; killed in
Battle of Gettysburg.
No. 27. George W. Akers, died in 1862.
No. 28. W. R. Albert, discharged in 1862.
No. 29. Allen M. Bane, transferred from 4th Virginia regiment in
exchange for John H. Martin, of Company D; wounded in Battle of
Williamsburg; captured at Battle of Frazier's Farm; transferred to
1st Kentucky battalion of cavalry.
No. 30. Alexander Bolton, cook and member of ambulance corps; a
prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 31. Joseph E. Bane, killed at First Battle of Manassas.
No. 32. Jesse Barrett, killed at Battle of Gettysburg, third day.
No. 33. Travis Burton, wounded at Battle of Seven Pines; transferred.
No. 34. W. H. Carr, wounded at Second Battle of Manassas; retired.
No. 35. James M. Collins, detailed as blacksmith.
No. 36. John R. Crawford, slightly wounded at Battle of Boonsboro Gap;
captured in Battle of Five Forks; a prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 37. William Crawford, over age; discharged.
No. 38. James B. Croy, on special service; captured and held a prisoner
until near end of war.
No. 39. James Cole, killed at Battle of Boonsboro Gap.
No. 40. T. P. Darr, wounded and taken prisoner at Battle of Frazier's
Farm; captured at Battle of Sailor's Creek; a prisoner at Point
Lookout.
No. 41. John S. Dudley, wounded in Second Battle of Manassas; also at
Sharpsburg, and captured; slightly wounded at Dreury's Bluff; captured
at Five Forks; a prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 42. M. J. Dulaney, died June, 1862.
No. 43. D. R. Dulaney, transferred to Virginia Reserves.
No. 44. W. H. Douthat, discharged in 1862.
No. 45. Thomas Davenport, deserted in Spring, 1862.
No. 46. David Davis, discharged in 1862.
No. 47. Elbert S. Eaton, wounded in Second Battle of Manassas; captured
in Battle of Sailor's Creek; a prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 48. Elisha D. East, whipped out of service.
No. 49. John W. East, wounded in battles of Williamsburg, Plymouth,
N.C., and Dreury's Bluff; deserted in 1864.
No. 50. Joseph A. Eggleston, died in 1862 of wounds received in battle
of Frazier's Farm.
No. 51. James H. Eggleston, died of disease, June, 1862.
No. 52. John S. W. French, deserted at Suffolk, Va., May, 1863.
No. 53. F. H. Farley, wounded in second battle of Manassas; deserted in
1864.
No. 54. William C. Fortner, wounded in battle of second Manassas; also
at Gettysburg, where he was captured.
No. 55. James H. Fortner, wounded in second battle of Manassas and
Gettysburg; left on the field and captured.
No. 56. J. Tyler Frazier; slightly wounded in second battle of
Manassas; captured on retreat from Petersburg, 1865.
No. 57. William Frazier, died October, 1861.
No. 58. Creed D. Frazier, discharged in fall 1861.
No. 59. W. A. French, in battles of Bull Run and first Manassas;
discharged July, 1861.
No. 60. Andrew J. French, discharged in fall of 1861.
No. 61. James H. Gardner, slightly wounded in battle of Bull Run, July
18, 1861; deserted May, 1863.
No. 62. Francis M. Gordon, wounded in battle of Frazier's Farm;
captured in battle of Sailor's Creek; prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 63. Andrew J. Grigsby, promoted to Major 27th Virginia regiment.
No. 64. Charles A. Hale, surrendered at Appomattox.
No. 65. John A. Hale, wounded in battles of Williamsburg and Five
Forks.
No. 66. John D. Hare, died November 23, 1861.
No. 67. Isaac Hare, slightly wounded in battle of Bull Run, and
severely wounded in battle of Williamsburg; transferred.
No. 68. John R. Henderson, died October, 1861.
No. 69. James B. Henderson, captured in battle of Sailor's Creek; in
prison at Point Lookout.
No. 70. B. L. Hoge, at home sick at close of the war.
No. 71. James Hughes, discharged, died in 1861.
No. 72. James J. Hurt, wounded in battle of Gettysburg; captured at
Sailor's Creek, and prisoner at end of the war.
No. 73. George W. Hurt, detached as teamster.
No. 74. John F. Jones, wounded in battle of Gettysburg; leg amputated;
discharged.
No. 75. George Johnston, discharged.
No. 76. Manilius S. Johnston, wounded in first battle of Manassas;
discharged.
No. 77. George Knoll, wounded in battles of Williamsburg and Boonsboro;
captured at last named battle.
No. 78. Charles N. J. Lee, wounded in first battle of Manassas;
discharged.
No. 79. Henry Lewey, wounded in first battle of Manassas; surrendered
at Appomattox.
No. 80. Joseph Lewey, wounded at battle of Seven Pines; surrendered at
Appomattox.
No. 81. W. H. Layton, deserted, February, 1862.
No. 82. James Lindsey, discharged, 1861.
No. 83. P. H. Lefler, discharged in 1862.
No. 84. Anderson Meadows, wounded in battle of Williamsburg; captured
at Sailor's Creek; prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 85. John Meadows, wounded in battles of Williamsburg and
Gettysburg; died in 1864.
No. 86. Ballard P. Meadows, died June 18, 1862, of wounds received in
battle of Frazier's Farm.
No. 87. N. J. Morris, discharged in 1862.
No. 88. George A. Minnich, wounded in battle of Frazier's Farm;
captured in battle of Sailor's Creek; prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 89. Christian Minnich, captured in battle of Sailor's Creek;
prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 90. John H. Minnich, discharged in 1861.
No. 91. A. D. Manning, killed in battle of Seven Pines.
No. 92. Raleigh Merricks, detailed as teamster.
No. 93. T. P. Mays, wounded in battle of Frazier's Farm; killed in
battle of Boonsboro.
No. 94. John H. Martin, transferred in 1861 to 4th Virginia regiment in
exchange for Allen M. Bane, transferred to Company D from 4th Virginia
regiment.
No. 95. John Q. Martin, killed in second battle of Manassas.
No. 96. W. W. Muncey, wounded in battle of Gettysburg.
No. 97. James J. Nye, died of wounds received in second battle of
Manassas.
No. 98. John Palmer, deserted in spring of 1862.
No. 99. Charles W. Peck, Second Corporal, wounded in battle of
Williamsburg; died in summer of 1862.
No. 100. John W. Sarver, severely wounded in battle of Frazier's Farm;
disabled and discharged.
No. 101. Demarcus L. Sarver, wounded in battles of Williamsburg and
Gettysburg; deserted.
No. 102. Josephus Suthern, wounded in battle of Frazier's Farm;
captured in battle of Sailor's Creek; died in prison at Point Lookout.
No. 103. Samuel B. Shannon, wounded in battle of first Manassas; served
his one year enlistment; joined 1st Kentucky battalion of cavalry.
No. 104. John P. Sublett, wounded in first battle of Manassas; killed
in battle of Gettysburg.
No. 105. William T. Sublett, died October, 1861.
No. 106. Alexander Skeens, discharged in 1862.
No. 107. Joseph Skeens, discharged in 1862.
No. 108. Lewis R. Skeens, died August 6, 1862.
No. 109. A. L. Sumner, captured in battle of Five Forks; prisoner in
Point Lookout.
No. 110. Thomas J. Stafford, discharged in 1862.
No. 111. William H. Stafford, killed in battle of Williamsburg.
No. 112. R. M. Stafford, captured in battle of Sailor's Creek; a
prisoner in Point Lookout.
No. 113. Adam Thompson, wounded in battle of second Manassas; deserted
February, 1864.
No. 114. Alonzo Thompson, died, November, 1862.
No. 115. Lee E. Vass, died August 4, 1862, of wounds received in battle
of Frazier's Farm.
No. 116. W. R. C. Vass, killed in second battle of Manassas.
No. 117. Gordon L. Wilburn, wounded in second battle of Manassas;
surrendered at Appomattox.
No. 118. Hugh J. Wilburn, wounded in battles of Frazier's Farm and
second Manassas; deserted in May, 1863.
No. 119. William I. Wilburn, wounded in battles of Williamsburg, and
second Manassas; surrendered at Appomattox.
No. 120. Lewis N. Wiley, wounded in battle of Fredericksburg; captured
in battle of Sailor's Creek; a prisoner at Point Lookout.
No. 121. Isaac Young, transferred to 28th Virginia battalion.
No. 122. Thomas J. Young, deserted in February, 1862.
Total Enlistment, 122.
Number killed in battle and died of wounds 17
Number died of disease 14
Number discharged for various causes 29
Number transferred to other commands 6
Number in prison at Point Lookout and other
places (at close of war) 27
Number absent, sick in hospital, wounded, or
at home (at close of war) 8
Number surrendered at Appomattox 9
Number deserted 12
---
122
Memo.--Absent, sick and wounded or at home at close of war:
B. L. Hoge.
W. W. Munsey.
W. C. Fortner.
James H. Fortner.
George Knoll.
J. B. Young.
W. D. Peters.
John A. Hale.
Appendix No. 2
In concluding my reminiscences I have determined to add some statistics
as to the campaigns, strength and losses of the two greatest armies of
the war--the Army of Northern Virginia and the Federal Army of the
Potomac. Never before in modern warfare had it fallen to the lot of two
such armies to fight so many bloody battles, with neither able to
obtain any decided advantage over the other. Beginning with the battles
around Richmond in the spring of 1862, to the close at Appomattox,
these two armies fought many battles through seven great campaigns. The
Army of Northern Virginia, under General Lee, numbering at its greatest
not exceeding 80,000 men, certainly greatly inferior in numbers to that
opposed--badly armed, equipped and fed, fought against six most
distinguished Federal commanders, to-wit:
McClellan before Richmond.
Pope, Cedar Mountain and Manassas.
McClellan in Maryland.
Burnside at Fredericksburg.
Hooker at Chancellorsville.
Meade at Gettysburg.
Grant from the Rapidan to Appomattox.
In these campaigns the Federals lost in the aggregate about 263,000
men. The Confederate loss is not definitely known.
General Grant's casualties were about 124,390 men, and in his campaign
from March 29, 1865, to April 9, 1865, his losses were 9944.
General Lee's surrender at Appomattox embraced 28,356 men, of whom only
8000 had arms, the residue being largely made up of broken down,
barefoot and sick men, teamsters and attaches of the medical, ordnance,
quartermaster, and commissary departments.
It may be of interest to the reader to know the number of men enrolled
in the Union and the Confederate armies during the war, and the losses
in killed, wounded, and prisoners held by each.
Official compilation shows that there were
enrolled of white troops in the Union army 2,494,592
Negro troops 178,975
---------
Total 2,673,567
Of this number the white troops from the
Southern and border states 278,923
Negro troops 140,298
---------
419,221
The enrollment of Confederate troops,
estimated 700,000
This may not be entirely correct, but is
believed to be substantially so.
The Union losses in killed, died from
wounds, disease, and from other causes 360,212
Of which the killed in action were 67,058
Died of wounds received in action 43,012
Died of disease 224,586
Deaths from other causes, or
from causes unknown 25,556
--------
Total 360,212
The Confederate losses, as far as can be ascertained, though not
believed to be entirely correct, were as follows:
Killed in action 52,954
Died of wounds 21,570
Died of disease 59,297
--------
Total 133,821
The number of Confederate prisoners
taken and held by the Federal government
during the war was 220,000
Number that died in Northern prisons
(12 per cent of the total) 26,000
Number of Union prisoners held by Confederates
270,000
Number that died in Southern prisons
(less than 9 per cent) 22,000
Confederate soldiers paroled, 1865 174,223
Number of battles and skirmishes fought during the war, over two
thousand.
NOTE--The most of the above statistics were obtained from
"Confederate Military History," edited by General Clement A.
Evans, and from "The Century Book of Facts," by Ruoff.
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