TO RICHMOND, CHESTER, AND PETERSBURG—TO
NORTH CAROLINA—BACK TO VIRGINIA, AT
SUFFOLK—TO TAYLORSVILLE—ON TO
JOIN GENERAL LEE
TO RICHMOND
While I was away Pickett's Division and other troops under Longstreet
left the vicinity of Fredericksburg, marched to and through Richmond,
and camped on the 13th of February, 1863, near Chester Station, on the
Richmond & Petersburg Railroad. I heard some of the men say, that when
bivouacked here, while the army slept under their blankets a heavy snow
fell, enveloping all in a mantle of white while sleeping comfortably and
quietly until day dawned, unconscious of the additional cover spread
over them during the night. I rejoined the command about that time, and
later we marched to the south side of Petersburg, protecting forage
trains down towards Suffolk.
After marching in Southside, Va., for a few days, through Southampton
and other counties, where we got some of the splendid hams—the finest I
ever ate—for which this section is justly famous, one afternoon our mess
bought some fresh herring. That night we ate all we could for supper and
covered the rest up in the leaves for breakfast. But we were aroused at
daybreak the next morning, and left for Petersburg, leaving the herring
there in the woods. I often afterwards thought of and wished for those
fish.
OFF FOR THE OLD NORTH STATE
About the 20th of March, 1863, the brigade took the train at Petersburg
for North Carolina. We were in box-cars, and built fires of pine wood on
piles of dirt in the cars. It was very cold, and all were well smoked.
We went by way of Weldon to Goldsboro, going into camp in the long-leaf
pine woods just north of the town.
While here three men were shot for desertion. All the regiments were
drawn up around the victims, who were bound to stakes in hollow square
formation, one side of the square being open. A detail of eighteen men,
one-half of whom had balls in their guns and the other half without
balls, did the shooting. I don't remember to what commands these
deserters belonged; I am sure none of them belonged to the Eleventh
Regiment. This was to me a sickening spectacle, never witnessed before
or afterwards. Very few Confederate soldiers suffered a like fate. It
was necessary to make examples sometimes.
From Goldsboro we went to Kinston, on Neuse River, remaining here
several days, and then marched to New Berne, lower down the Neuse—where
there was some fighting with the Yankees who occupied the town. The
Eleventh Regiment was not engaged. It was expected the place would be
attacked, but it was not. General Pickett was in command.
I remember it was after night when the vicinity of New Berne was reached
by Kemper's Brigade. Company C was detailed for picket duty. The company
was conducted out through the pitch darkness, the night being foggy and
very dark, by a guide sent for the purpose, who led us for some distance
across an open field, finally posting the company with instruction to
keep a sharp lookout for the Yankees in our front. When morning dawned,
it was discovered that the company was one-half mile away from where it
was intended to be posted, and facing in the wrong direction.
While in North Carolina, rations were plentiful, sweet potatoes and rice
especially, also black-eyed peas, cornbread and bacon, all of which were
greatly enjoyed, for rations had been pretty short in Virginia for some
time. The country down on Neuse River was very rich and productive,
large quantities of corn being raised, and while the troops occupied the
country and kept the Yankees in their strongholds near the coast,
foragers were busy with the wagons hauling out provisions and supplies
for the army in Virginia.
There were some fine old plantations and homes in this rich lowland
country, where once prosperity, peace and happiness reigned; but now all
was changed; the ruthless hand of a cruel and relentless enemy had been
laid upon the country along the coast, the towns were in his possession,
and the country and people for many miles back wore an aspect of gloom
and despair, with many lone chimneys standing out as grim monuments to
Yankee vandalism.
While at Kinston, Lieut. John W. Daniel, later United States Senator,
who was then adjutant of the Eleventh Regiment, was promoted to major
and ordered to report to Gen. Jubal A. Early, for duty as chief of
staff, which position he filled with credit and distinction until he
fell desperately wounded at the battle of the Wilderness, and as all
know, maimed for life. What a name and fame he won in civil life is
known of all men.
BACK TO VIRGINIA
About the 4th of April, 1863, the brigade left North Carolina by train
for Franklin Station, Va., south of Petersburg, on Blackwater River. In
a few days, with other troops under the command of General Longstreet,
we crossed Blackwater River and marched down near Suffolk, and had
several skirmishes with the Yankees, who occupied the town. No attempt
was made to capture the place. I think the object of the expedition was
to give the Confederates an opportunity of gathering supplies along the
Blackwater River and beyond, and by threatening Suffolk, prevent the
Yankees sending reënforcements to Hooker, whom Lee was confronting on
the Rappahannock.
The Confederates had a line of breastworks extending out from the Dismal
Swamp at right angles on either side of the main road to Suffolk to
another swamp on the left, with an abattis in front, but as usual the
Yankees did not attack. There was also one or more batteries of
artillery along, and some cavalry.
The picket line was about 1,000 yards to the front, at the further edge
of a pine thicket, with open fields in front, extending towards Suffolk,
though we were not in sight of the town; there were rifle-pits every few
yards along the picket line.
One day while here the Yankees came out from Suffolk in force, drove in
the pickets, and placed a battery in position in sight of the
breastworks 800 yards away, and opened fire. The works were at once
manned, and two batteries vigorously returned the fire of the enemy. All
were expecting an attack on the breastworks and were prepared to meet
it, but it did not come. It was not long before a shell from one of the
Confederate guns struck and exploded an ammunition chest of a Yankee
gun, at which a wild cheer went up from the Confederate lines, whereupon
the Yankees broke and ran for dear life, leaving a disabled limber and
one or more dead men on the ground. The captain of our battery had
measured the distance from the breastworks to the point where the
Yankees planted their battery, and knew exactly how to cut the fuse to
do effective work. A Yankee detail returned the next day under flag of
truce to get their dead, and said, "When you fellows raised that yell,
we thought you were charging us, and we decamped in short order." The
"Rebel yell" had terrified them again.
Another day, when Company C and Company D were on picket, the Yankees
came out again. We could see the skirmishers deploying across an open
field half a mile or more to the front, while their main body marched
along the outside of the road fence in columns of fours, partially hid
by trees and bushes. On they came, nearer and nearer, until the
skirmishers reached a fence running parallel with our line some distance
in front, rather out of range of our guns; here they halted and
commenced shooting at long range. Expecting the main body to advance and
attempt to drive us back from the picket line, we occupied the
rifle-pits, and Captain Houston and myself tried to restrain the men
from returning the fire until the enemy was in good range, but when the
balls would come whizzing by, whacking the trees behind us, some of the
men would crack away now and then in spite of us, but did not hit any of
the Yankees.
While this was going on, a black smoke burst forth from a large
dwelling-house about 150 yards in our front, on the right of the road,
the inmates, women and children, running and screaming from the burning
house. The vandals had set fire to that house and burned it with all its
contents, leaving those women and children homeless and helpless, only,
as they said, because some of the Confederate pickets had been going
there and getting something to eat. The miscreants left when the flames
enveloped the house.
The Confederates gave them a parting volley, together with a loud cheer
of derision and defiance. One of the Yankees was seen to fall, but got
up again and went on. Sam Franklin, of Company C, took deliberate aim at
this man in the road. At the crack of his gun the Yankee fell prone to
the ground, when Sam cried out exultingly, "I got him; I got him." As
the Yankee struggled to his feet and moved off down the road, Sam's
exultant tone changed to one of chagrin, as he said, "No, I didn't; he's
got up and gone." The Yankee went off; we never knew whether he had a
bullet hole in his measly hide or not. No doubt all of us hoped he had,
and that it had reached a vital spot.
After remaining near Suffolk several days longer, the command returned
to Franklin Station, which place was abandoned on the —— day of May.
Marching through the country, Petersburg was reached the 9th of May,
1863. From thence we went to Taylorsville, in Hanover County, remaining
at the latter place until about the 3d of June.
This falling back from Suffolk was done in regular military order, as if
expecting the enemy to make a hot pursuit. The trees along the roadside
were chopped nearly down by the corps of sappers and miners—"_sappling_
miners," as some of the boys called them—ready to be felled across the
road by a few licks of the axe when the rear guard had passed. At the
bridge across Blackwater, troops were deployed in line of battle on
either side of the road; the artillery was also in position, in battery,
unlimbered and ready for action; General Longstreet was at the bridge
seeing to it that every detail was carried out. But the enemy made no
effort to pursue. I think the bridge was destroyed after all had crossed
over.
In the meantime General Lee had, on the 1st to 5th of May, fought and
won the battle of Chancellorsville, where the immortal "Stonewall"
Jackson fell.
While down on the Dismal Swamp the echoes of the great guns, away up on
the Rappahannock, could be heard rolling through the swamps and
lowlands; loud-mouthed messengers, telling of the deadly struggle raging
far away.