THIRD YEAR OF THE WAR.
When we left home we thought our command had gone across the Blue Ridge
and were in the valley of Va. But when we got to Port Republic we
learned they were moving in the direction of Chancellorsville, so we had
to recross the Blue Ridge.
Just about sun down of the day we recrossed, we arrived at a Mrs.
Woolfork’s. There were about 24 other soldiers stopping there for
supper, also. Mrs. Woolfork’s son-in-law, Mr. Poindexter, had been in
prison with us at Washington, just about a month before. He knew the
country well and we decided to march all night in order to join the
command. Just as supper was ready a citizen who lived nearby and knew we
were all there, came in and said there was a lot of cavalrymen on the
Louisa Spring road, but he could not just tell which way they were
aiming to go.
While we were eating supper, some of the family stayed on the front
porch to see if the cavalrymen would come that way and just when we were
about half through supper, the young lady who stood guard rushed in and
said the cavalrymen had come near enough for her to see they were
yankees and a couple of them where already dismounting.
The dining room was in the basement and we all went out at an east door
while the Yankees were coming in on the west side of the house on the
upper floor. We ran and got our horses as rapidly as possible and rode
about a mile, and then Mr. Poindexter and I went to a cross road to see
if we could hear anything of them coming and to our surprise there was a
whole division of cavalry coming. We had left our two horses with the
other 28 men and we just stayed in the heavy pine timber, where we knew
the Yankees couldn’t see us, until Stoneman’s whole division passed.
It was fortunate for us that this all took place after dark, for had it
been a couple of hours earlier, the Yankees would have undoubtedly
captured us all. We stayed all night in this pine timber about a mile
from Poindexter’s home and kept on the alert all the time for fear other
Yankees were following.
After day-break we started on in the direction of Chancellorsville, but
soon found there were troops moving in front of us. Poindexter and I
went in ahead of the other 28, to see if we could find out who they were
and soon found they were Confederates.
I left Poindexter and went to them as soon as they halted and found it
was Gen. William Henry Lee’s Division. Poindexter went back and told the
other men to come on and we joined Lee’s men. He had no rations for his
men and as we had only had a half supper the night before and no
breakfast, he told us to go to a farm house near by and try and get
something.
We found the man of the house as kind as any one could be. He was the
father of our present Judge, William A. Anderson. He fed all 30 of us
and our horses also.
We went back to Lee’s division after our late breakfast and after a
short march, overtook Stoneman’s division and began fighting his rear
men.
He checked the whole division, of course, to protect the rear and we
thus checked his raid. I was in the rear line of the battle and didn’t
see the hottest of the fight.
We were right at a house and as some one brought some prisoners by
taking them to the rear, an old lady came out and saw the blue uniforms
and began crying, and said: “Don’t kill any of them blues!” One fellow
said: “I’m going to kill every d——n rascal I can.” She just fell down on
the ground and said: “I’ve got a boy in the blues and I don’t want you
to kill him.” I felt sorry for her and went to her and told her I was
sorry she had a son in the yankee army. “Oh! he is not a yankee,” she
said, “he is with Mr. Wiser’s folks.” They were called the Louisa Blues
and the old lady thought any one having on blue clothes might be her
boy.
About one o’clock the artillery began firing near Chancellorsville,
about three or four miles from us, but Wm. Henry Lee held his position
to keep Stoneman in check.
Shortly after nightfall Jackson was reconnoitering between his men and
Hooker’s army, and had given orders to his outposts to fire on the first
sound or man they saw or heard, and they not knowing he was out there,
fired on him and mortally wounded him.
The next morning Gen. J. E. B. Stewart took command of Jackson’s
division. Stewart began his march that morning and ordered the band to
play his favorite: “The Old Gray Horse Jumped Over the Elephant.” He and
one of his aids sang the tune, to other words, though. They were: “Old
Joe Hooker Get Out of the Wilderness.”
Stewart followed Hooker and drove him across the Rappahannock. We 30
fellows, who hadn’t gotten to our company yet, got supper and breakfast
among the citizens, and Wm. H. Lee sent us on to Orange, C. H. Here we
found some more boys, who like ourselves, hadn’t found the command they
belonged to yet. There were about 70 of us by this time. Some of them
new men coming in, prisoners returning with their horses, like I was,
and some coming back who had been on sick furloughs, etc.
We got rations here and laid down in the woods where the infantry had
been camping and the next morning when we awoke the snow was falling in
flakes more like biscuits, than snow flakes. If it had been biscuits it
would have had to snow some, or we would have eaten it just as fast it
fell.
I was about the first one to wake and I jumped up and shouted “Hurrah
for Jeff. Davis.” Campbell, of Co. G. Bedford County, shouted back
“Hurrah for H—.” Several fellows had to smile, when Campbell made his
reply. I told Campbell I had always heard a bad beginning made a good
ending, and when March came in like a lion it went out like a lamb. He
said “yes, but this is the first of May and it is coming in like the
devil, and I reckon it will go out like h—.” This caused laughter
generally, and everybody was soon up and our fires started for
breakfast.
We went into town after breakfast and orders had come to send all the
men on to Culpepper C. H. Here we joined our command and found that none
of our Co., had been killed at Chancellorsville. It had been about six
weeks since I’d been with the Co., only the one night, before I started
for my horse, after being captured.
Norman Hayth was our cook at this time and when the other members of
mess got back from picket duty one day he had a lot of beef cooked, that
was highly flavored with garlic. Not one of the boys in the mess could
eat it, but me, so I traded each of them some other part of my supper
for their beef and ate all eight of the rations. They all said I’d die
before morning. I told them I’d come nearer dying from not getting
enough beef than too much. Joe Shaver was sick and we put him in a tent
near by and John Q. H. Thrasher was taking care of him. Well in the
night I woke up and the garlic had gotten in my head so that I was
sneezing and gaging and John heard me and hallooed to the boys to see
what was the matter with that man. They soon found I was the fellow in
trouble, but they all laughed and said that’s the man with the 8 rations
of beef. He’ll come. Such a time as I had with that garlic for a while,
I told them I’d invented a separator to separate the garlic from the
meat. By this time a lot of boys was awake and shouting and laughing,
soldier like, and the Capt. had to call us to order before the fun
stopped. I didn’t get sick at all but the garlic just filled my head
almost like an overdose of snuff would I imagine.
The next thing that happened to me of any note was one day another boy
and I decided to go to see some young ladies, and we went down to a pond
to wash and the water was low, so we had dug basins around the edge so
the water would clear up by the time we needed it, and just as we were
about washed and dressed in our very best, a stray bullet came whizzing
along and went right into the muddiest part of the pond and threw mud
all over us. Well, now if ever boys felt like saying Sunday school
words, we did then. We had to give up our trip for that day any way.
We had fine pasture for our horses and they soon fattened and looked so
nice, that we could hardly realize they were the same animals we’d
brought through the winter. We were in camp here until the 20th of June,
when the grand review of the whole army took place at Culpepper C. H.
The fences had all been torn away and the infantry, cavalry and
artillery were all stationed, so that Gen. Lee and his aids could review
them. After he had gone around and seen them all, he took a position and
ordered all to march by him in battallions. The cavalry passed first,
then infantry, then artillery. The artillery took a position on the
heights and fired all the cannons as Gen. Lee passed by again.
Gen. Lee had ordered all the cavalry and wagon horses to be shod, but we
didn’t know what was to follow. The night after the review a grand ball
was given in the town. When Gens. Kilpatrick and Buford of the U. S.
army heard the firing of the artillery, they sent out scouting parties
on all the roads to see what it meant.
Just at the height of the ball our pickets came in and reported that the
Yankees were coming in on all the roads, which put a sudden stop to
gaities and every man hastened to his post of duty. The cavalry was sent
to guard all the fords on the Rappahannock. Our command was sent to
McLean’s Ford to throw up fortifications, which we did until daybreak.
At daybreak we found there was a squadron of cavalry near us, which we
could see over our fortifications.
Two of the men came down to the ford and watered their horses and I
talked to them across the river as it was a narrow ford. They continued
coming down, by two’s until about 8 o’clock.
At about 9 o’clock Gen. Kilpatrick aimed to cross at Kelley’s Ford and
was met by Gen. Wade Hampton. A desperate battle was fought and finally
Hampton succeeded in driving them back across the river.
We were near enough to hear the firing but not near enough to engage in
it. Gen. Stoneman did not attempt to cross where we were, so we just
stood guard all day. While this was going on Gen. Lee, with the
remainder of the army, was moving on toward Harpers Ferry.
We were ordered from the ford late in the evening and started in the
direction of Manassas Junction. We were there on the same side of the
river with Stoneman and marching on roads parallel to each other, but
neither General knew the other’s course until after the camp fires were
started.
We went into camp in the rear of Stoneman’s men, and later in the night,
Gen. Kilpatrick’s forces camped in a skirt of woods just behind us, and
a little later Gen. Wade Hampton, following on, got a message from Gen.
Stewart that Stoneman was in front of us and Kilpatrick behind us, and
for him to camp in the woods just behind Kilpatrick and at daybreak to
open fire on Kilpatrick’s men and he, Stewart, would have us fire on
Kilpatrick’s and Stoneman’s men also. This we carried out and completely
routed both commands. They didn’t know the other’s position and we
surprised them so, that all they could do was to try to get away. We
killed and captured a good many, but they didn’t resist us. It was just
a running fight.
We drove them all that day on toward Washington, not stopping to get
food, and went into camp at nightfall.
Stewart and Hampton crossed the Potomac with their men at Seneca Falls
in the night. When Gen. Hooker learned that Lee was going on toward
Maryland, he took his men and tried to get in front of him, which he
did. Eight packet boats had been sent up with provisions for Hooker’s
army, and when they came into the locks not knowing we were there, we
turned the wickets and let the water out and burned the boats. We had
been marching four days without any provisions at all, so we took what
we could in our haversacks, before burning the boats. We took the mules,
24 in number, on with us. We helped the woman and children from the
boats and took their furniture out, as we didn’t want to destroy private
property. It was hard to do then, with them all crying like they did,
but such is war.
In a short distance from where we crossed the river, we came on a
garrison of yankees at a place called West Minster and captured them
all, without the loss of a man. We so completely surprised them that
they surrendered without resistance. We went on to Hanover to capture a
garrison there, but they learned of our coming and resisted us with
right heavy loss to both sides. One of our young men, Walter Gilmore,
was shot in the shoulder, as he was riding between Chas. Price and
myself, as we were trying to get him to the rear, he was shot in the
left eye, but we finally got to a house and asked the lady of the house
to take care of him, while we went on and took the garrison. I never
knew anything more of young Gilmore until the summer of 1911. I met him
at New Port News at a reunion. He told me he was sent to a hospital in
Baltimore by the Yankees and received the kindest of treatment and the
best of medical aid and soon recovered.
We took our West Minster and Hanover prisoners on with us and our next
stop was at Carlisle, Penn. All the provisions we had on this march,
except what some of us got from the boats, was what we could beg from
the citizens. Some of us nearly starved. Here we destroyed some of the
public buildings in which food for the Yankees was stored. We threw hot
shot a mile or so and wherever these hot balls would strike, they would
set fire. Some of our men who were marching ahead of our Co. had set
fire to Thad Stevens’ Iron Works in Penn. and as we passed and saw it
burning I told the boys that was a bad move, that the Yankees would soon
retaliate and do us more damage than we could do them, as so much of the
fighting was done on southern ground.
We did this shelling with hot shot at night and continued marching all
night. We still marched all the next day stopping occasionally for a
little while to let our horses graze.
About noon we heard cannonading about Gettysburg. Gen. Lee had arrived
Friday July 1st, with his whole army except Pickett’s division, which
was coming from Chambersburg and Hampton’s and Stewart’s divisions of
cavalry with which I made the trip. Lee had engaged the enemy Saturday
and drove them back, but could not make a general charge, as these three
divisions hadn’t arrived. Had these divisions been full numbered there
would have been about 48,000 men. But of course a great many of
different companies had been killed or disabled. For instance Co. C. the
one to which I belonged, only had 64 men bearing arms when we left Va. a
Co. was supposed to have 100 men, of course, and they were recruited at
different times, but I remember we only had 64 then and other companies
may have been cut down, also, so it would be hard to determine just how
many men were in these three divisions. However there were so many that
Lee waited until they arrived to bring on the general charge. We arrived
Saturday evening July 2. As we had been marching so much and had so
little rest since June 20, we all laid down in a stubble field and were
soon fast asleep. I tied my horse’s halter strap to my gun sling and
just left saddle and all on, and when I awoke the next morning, I was
about 30 yds. farther down in the field than where I went to sleep. She
had just dragged me on as she ate, but I was too dead asleep to know it.
Before we got to sleep the enemy was firing a cannon every little while
and every thing would be as visible as in day time. But it was a dark
night and illuminations made it seem darker, of course, after
disappearing, the shells would some time burst over us, but didn’t do us
any harm.
Some of the boys heard the cannon all night at intervals, but I was too
exhausted to hear a great deal.
At daylight the bugle sounded and we mounted our horses and went out to
join the line of battle before having any breakfast. As our wagon train
wasn’t with us, we hadn’t had any rations issued since the 20th of June
and all we had was what citizens gave us. There were too many of us, for
any one man to get much, so we thought of breakfast the first thing,
when we awoke.
We were halted before reaching the line of battle, by Major Mason, one
of Gen. Lee’s staff officers, and he called for one Capt. two Serg’s two
Corporals and 30 private soldiers.
I was one of the private soldiers called out and Capt. Jas. Breckinridge
was the commissioned officer called out. Major Mason took us then three
or four miles out in the direction of Harrisburg, Penn. Major Mason then
told Capt. Breckinridge to send a reliable soldier to an elevated point
near by that overlooked the Harrisburg road for about a mile.
Capt. Breckinridge told me to go and gave me paper and pencil to keep an
account of the enemy’s regimental flags, and pieces of artillery that
passed the road. There were lookouts stationed on my right and left to
guard me as I was lying flat and watching the enemy’s movement, so could
not watch myself.
I began my watching about 9 o’clock and was to leave my post at noon. It
was a sweltering day, a real type of July and you may imagine how sleepy
I got lying flat in that clover field and the rays of the sun just
pouring on me. You see, I’d only had one night’s sleep since June 20,
and had been marching day and night and this was July 3. My same old
watch that I’d carried when I waded the Rappahannock, was still keeping
good time and you may know I was glad when it indicated 12 o’clock.
When I went back to the Capt. and gave him the account of what I’d seen
he sent it by a courier right on to Gen. Lee. I remember I counted 100
regimental flags and 70 pieces of artillery. Lee had men put on all the
roads like this, so he’d have a knowledge of the size of the army he’d
have to fight.
When I got back to the Capt. and gave him the paper, I was as wet with
perspiration, as if I’d been dipped in the creek. I was so exhausted
from hunger and general fatigue that I soon fell asleep and slept for an
hour or so, the cannons firing all the time. At one when the general
charge was made, I awoke though.
Soon we saw a skirmish line coming and they began firing on us, but we
showed a bold front and they not knowing how many there were of us, as
there were some buildings near and we were scattered around and they
soon stopped firing on us. Looking south, we could see the smoke from
the artillery and musketry, boiling up like a volcano. This elevated
position gave us a fine view of the surrounding country. The roar of
artillery was like a continuous peal of thunder. Our regiment was about
a mile from where I was with the few men who had been sent out with me
and in fact our skirmish extended on to us, but the main part of our
regiment was heavily engaged, but were driven back by Kilpatrick’s
regiment. They were fighting, without having had any food all day and
the day before and the horses the same, only what they ate dragging us
around the night before. The whole regiment had fared just as I had for
the last two weeks and were broken down completely.
The hottest of the battle was fully two miles from where I was
stationed. As I hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast Sat. morning
and this was Sunday eve, I told Capt. Breckinridge I was going to risk
my life and go to a brick house about 200 yards in front of our skirmish
line and try to get something to eat. I watched and kept the house
between me and the enemy’s skirmish line and went in at the window and
down in the basement, I found a boiled shoulder of bacon, several loaves
of bread and all the apple butter and marmalade I could carry and a lot
of dutch cheese. The family had left on account of the battle, so I took
my time to get plenty and made three trips and took enough back to feed
all 35 of the men who had been sent out with me.
After emptying the crocks we put them on the fence back of the house and
wrote a note to the lady of the house and put with the crocks, thanking
her for her kindness. Her provisions had certainly been a friend in time
of need.
The firing of the enemy stopped for a little while and we thought our
forces had gained the victory, but when Pickett made his charge the
firing began anew and as we hadn’t been ordered to advance, we soon knew
that we had lost the day. We could not see the hottest of the battle,
only the awful smoke. I’ll never forget that. Major Mason took us back
to Gen. Lee’s headquarters about nightfall and we slept in the yard that
night. About 10 o’clock it began raining and rained all night. Shortly
after daybreak Monday morning, Major Mason gave us something for
breakfast and Gen. Lee sent us to Gen. Meade’s headquarters under a flag
of truce to get permission to bury our dead. So I had the privilege of
sitting with Gen’s Lee and Meade at their respective headquarters the
morning of July 4th 63. When Major Mason presented the dispatch to Gen.
Meade, he immediately sent about 30 of his men with a dispatch back to
Lee under a flag of truce.
About 60 of the U. S. Regulars took us all over the battle field and
explained the position of the armies that fought the day before. We went
to the hospitals where they had been amputating limbs and at some of
them a six horse wagon could have been loaded with legs and arms. We
passed a half doz. or more of these field hospitals. There were a doz.
or more doctors at each of them. The dead men were every where to be
seen, of course. It looked more like fields of flax spread out to dry
than any thing I’d seen before. The most of the confederates had been
gathered up ready for burial. There were several ten acre fields with
men lying just as thick as they could lay. We saw them digging the
graves several feet deep and a blanket was spread down and four men laid
on it, then another blanket spread over them. The dirt from the next
grave was filled on this one and so on until the whole line was buried.
I learned afterward that the hurried dispatch Gen. Meade sent back to
Gen. Lee, was to send men to mark the graves of the dead, but that he
would have them buried. The regulars did not take us over the portion of
the battle field occupied by the Yankees. We could see the fields strewn
with the dead but we didn’t ride over the ground like we did among our
own men. I guess they didn’t want us to see how many they had lost. The
men were very nice and kind to us though. They explained how the
dreadful slaughter of Pickett’s men occurred. His columns had been
thinned out so much by the artillery and heavy firing they were subject
to in crossing the low ground coming up to the foot of Cemetery Ridge,
and he gave the order to close to the left, expecting Gen. Heath’s
division to also close to the left and support him. But Heath couldn’t
see the move Pickett made as his men were in a piece of timber and the
trees being in full leaf, the view was obstructed. They advanced slowly
and when Pickett charged the breastworks, Heath’s division was too far
in the rear to aid him. There was a gap of about 700 yds. left between
Pickett’s and Heath’s division and Gen. Warren, who was in front of
Heath’s division saw the gap, marched a part of his men to the front and
right faced and marched in behind Pickett and captured a part of his
men, who had already taken the breastworks.
When Pickett saw Warren’s move and knew that Heath couldn’t support him
to recapture the breastworks, he was compelled to retreat. Then was when
the terrible slaughter occurred, as Pickett’s men retreated under the
heavy fire from the artillery they had once taken, but was unable to
hold.
The men had to march very nearly two miles in the retreat, in full view
of the enemy’s artillery, before they reached the timber, which served
as a protection. If Heath had brought his men up as Pickett expected, it
would only have caused a heavier slaughter, because I saw the tents of a
number of lines of battle the next day, that the regulars told us were
right there to support the breastworks, that Pickett couldn’t see when
he was making the charge. He never could have held the position, against
such heavy forces.
We went right over the summit of Cemetery Ridge, by the Peach Orchard
and High Water Mark. It was all a dismal sight as it was raining
steadily until about 12 o’clock, but the work of caring for the wounded
and burying the dead was being carried on as rapidly as it was possible.
The regulars took us on to our outpost and we bade them farewell, never
to meet again. Major Mason knew some of the men personally, so we
enjoyed their kindness very much. Major Mason took us back to Lee’s
headquarters and Gen. Lee released us and sent us on back to our
command.
In going back to our command, we passed by the remnant of Pickett’s
gallant division. It didn’t look to be more than a regiment. The first
man I recognized was my brother-in-law, Lieut. John Dill, who is still
living. I asked him how many they had lost and his reply was: “We have
lost all.” He got in sight of the breastworks, he said, before they had
to retreat. He was wounded by the explosion of a shell.
As all of the Botetourt Infantry was in Pickett’s division, I soon found
other men that I knew. The men of the Fincastle Rifles had the same sad
story to tell, of the dreadful loss of their comrades. The descendants
of the Botetourt Infantrymen can always be proud of the charge their
ancestors made and glad they did not see the disconsolate, depressed
remnant I saw that morning after the battle. It was the saddest sight, I
think, I ever witnessed. You know the missing men were from my own
county, and so many were my acquaintances. I talked to some of the
gallant men of the Blue Ridge Rifles, Buchanan Rifles, also some of the
men who composed Capt. Gilmer Breckinridge’s company, then commanded by
Capt. Kelly.
Capt. Breckinridge raised this Co. at the beginning of the war and his
father furnished uniforms for the men. Some of the men of Capt.
Spessard’s Co. of Craig Co., told me of Nat Wilson’s death. He was
killed just as he crossed the breastworks. He was raised in Fincastle
and was one of my schoolmates.
We reached our command on the evening of the 4th. I found the regiment
had lost heavily, but our company had not suffered so much. Six of our
Co., beside myself, that only numbered 64, when we went to Gettysburg,
were sent out on this lookout expedition. The most gloomy time of my
life, I think, was from that eve until we started back to Va. the next
day. Lee was whipped, but unconquered. Meade was slow in following us
up.
The infantry and artillery moved in front and the extreme rear, was
brought up by the cavalry, as usual.
The business of the cavalry was to fortify behind us and protect our men
in front. We took wheat shocks and piled them up high and threw dirt on
them and when the advance guards of the enemy would see our
fortifications, they would slack in their movements. They would bring up
their artillery and open fire on us often and we would retreat to other
fortifications built by cavalry ahead of us and so on. Sometimes we
would have to stop in the open field and fight the enemy. Sam Riley was
killed in one of these engagements, while we were still in Penn.
George Hayth, “Flud” we all called him, was mortally wounded near
Boonesboro and died at Winchester, about ten days later. Alonzo
Rineheart was shot through the hand at the same time “Flud” was wounded,
in one of these encounters, trying to drive the enemy back.
We struck the Potomac near Williamsport and learned there that our wagon
train had been captured and about 15 men from my Co. were captured,
also. They were acting as guards for the wagon train.
Some of the cavalry was ordered to go to the front to guard the pontoon
bridge, that Lee had used crossing the Potomac going into Maryland, but
before we got there we learned that the bridge had been destroyed but we
went on to where the bridge had been.
While there I saw a lot of the wounded men, who were able to ride
crossing the river. It was very deep and at one time I saw about 30 men
go into the river and the horses got confused and threw their riders and
only 15 passed over safely. Some of the horses came back on the Maryland
side while others went across without a rider. These horses were just
broken down horses that the men had picked up along the road and some of
the men were riding without saddle or bridle, just a rope or strap tied
around the horses neck. There were more wounded than we had wagons or
ambulances to carry them and those least wounded were walking on ahead
trying to escape the enemy and get back to Va., so picked up the horses
as they could. The citizens told us that the wounded men had been
crossing like that for a day or more, so no doubt many a poor fellow had
a watery grave, in this last effort to reach his home state again.
We remained at Williamsport, until the whole army arrived. We had been
sent ahead to guard the fords, which we did and fortified at several
places. When they arrived, the river had run down considerably and the
infantry and artillery passed over first and we again brought up the
rear. After we had crossed we found that Gen. Pettigrew with his
division had been left. I never knew why. And the enemy attacked him and
he was killed, but not many of his men were lost. Our batteries opened
fire from the Va. side and protected Pettigrew’s men and held the enemy
in check until they could cross the river and get with us.
We continued to retreat until we reached Winchester where we went into
camp for a few days and got a little much needed rest. A good many
supplies had been shipped to the army and we found them when we arrived.
A great many were not present to receive the boxes from home. They had
answered the last roll call and were numbered with the slain.
Some of the Yankees had crossed the Potomac between Harper’s Ferry and
Winchester and attacked us at Sheppherdstown. When we went into the
battle, Co. C. had only 13 men left of our 64 that went into Penn. Some
had been killed and the others captured. The pickets were driven in
about 12 o’clock by Gen. Kilpatrick’s men and a skirmish line was sent
out to bring on the attack. There were a hundred or more of us in the
skirmish line and the 13 men, who composed Co. C, 2nd Va. Cavalry were
among them.
In marching toward the enemy a large sink hole was right in our pathway
and instead of going through the hole and keeping 8 ft. apart which was
our usual distance in skirmish lines, some of the boys went around the
hole and 6 or 8 of them were huddled right together. The enemy was
behind a rock fence on the summit of a hill, which was a grave yard and
when they saw these men together, they fired among them and wounded
five, two of them mortally.
We couldn’t get nearer than about 500 yds. to the rock fence, as the
enemy was firing grape and cannister among us so we had to lie down
behind a rail fence to protect ourselves. I was lying in a fence corner
and a cannon ball hit the fence stake on the opposite side of the fence
from me and cut the stake off and tore it out of the ground and took it
whizzing over me. It shook me up, I’ll tell you, but didn’t wound me.
Had it struck the stake my head was against I would not have been left
to tell the tale.
We couldn’t damage them much from where we were so we were ordered to
the left into a piece of timber and remained there 10 or 15 minutes and
were then ordered to charge in another direction and went through an old
field and came across five pieces of artillery, that our men had
abandoned on account of the heavy firing from behind that stone fence.
Several of the gunners were lying there dead and after we passed the
guns our gunners came back and opened heavy fire over our heads, at the
men on the top of the hill.
As Gen. Young had gotten in position on our right, We were ordered to
advance and came by a house that we found to be full of Yankee soldiers.
We came across several men behind a corn crib and they laid down and
shot under the crib at our feet, but missed us, and before they could
reload their guns, we ran around the crib and they ran to the house and
into the basement. We followed at their heels, and to our great
surprise, there were about 50 men in the basement, instead of our 3 or
4. We ordered them to surrender, which they did at once. Our line of
battle had gotten up by that time and we sent the prisoners to the rear.
We crossed a little ravine up a slope into a wheat field and the enemy
opened such a heavy fire, that we were compelled to take refuge behind
rocks, wheat shocks, or anything we could. Every man, though, that got
behind a wheat shock, was killed. Capt. Graves and I fell down behind a
large lime stone rock and a shell struck in the ground about 20 feet
from us and ploughed right along to our rock and exploded. It threw dirt
all over us, but didn’t hurt us at all.
Just at that time, I looked to the rear and saw J. E. Stewart, Wade
Hampton and Fitz Hugh Lee coming right up the ravine and would soon have
been in full view of the men at the rock fence and grave yard. I ran
down and explained the situation to them. They remained there a few
minutes planning what to do, and Hampton decided to have Gen. Young’s
men come up in line with Fitz Lee’s men, and make a desperate effort to
take the grave yard.
Hampton sent a courier to Young, and in a few minutes his men did
charge, but they were mowed down so rapidly that they didn’t get near up
to our line until they were compelled to fall back. We had to keep our
hidden positions until night-fall and then retreat.
When we got back I found that only six of our 13 in my company remained
unharmed. Ben Peck, a cousin of mine, was mortally wounded, only lived a
few days. John Deisher also died in a few days. The other 5 recovered,
but were unfit for service for awhile.
We spent the night in camp and the next morning our pickets found that
Kilpatrick had withdrawn his forces in the night and gone back toward
the Potomac. We remained at this encampment until the next eve, when we
had a dress parade in an oats field nearby.
Dress parades were held every eve in each regiment. The orders for the
next day were always read out and each orderly Sergeant had to report if
any of his men were absent “without leave.” When the dress parade was
over the regiment was turned over to the quarter master, and he gave
orders for each man to get four bundles of oats to feed our horses that
night and the next morning.
Our Co. was on the extreme right and Co. K. was on the extreme left of
regiment. Each Co. had one of the contrariest men the world ever knew.
We had all said if either of them ever drowned we would fish up the
stream for them. Instead of getting the oats near by, these men started
off in a sweeping gallop to the opposite sides of the field and ran
together about the center of the field. We heard a report like that of a
gun and immediately, another; the first proved to be the horses heads
coming together and then the men’s. All four fell over dead, as we all
thought, at first. We rushed to them and not a sign of life could be
seen. Some one hastened for Dr. Shackleford and as he had no
restoratives with him, except hartshorn, he used that, and we soon found
we had two live men alright. They felt up for the ground though. They
then used the hartshorn on the horses and they soon revived also. The
crowd had gathered by that time and all had a hearty laugh and gave them
three cheers for the bay windows they carried on their heads.
After going into camp that night in a piece of woods, we hitched our
horses and some of the boys went in search of water back in the open
field. A fellow by the name of Bob Luckadoo, had gone off about 30 or 40
yards from the majority of us and laid down, and these boys coming back
from hunting water, accidently stepped on the man. He got very mad and
cursed and the boys apologized and told him they could not see him in
the dark. He finally accepted their apology, but the boys found out what
a “touch-me-not” he was, so told it as soon as they got into camp. We
decided to pass by and stumble over him again in going for water. The
next boys did so, and he shouted and cursed them and they pretended to
be so surprised at his being there and began to apologize. He said:
“What in the hell is the use to apologize, when you’ve killed me?” He
laid down again, though, and presently another boy stumbled over him and
he jumped up and called to the bugler as loud as he could yell: “Casey!
Casey! Just turn out the whole damned bloody 2nd Cavalry and let them
march over me and maybe they will be satisfied.” The regiment enjoyed
the prank greatly and we often laugh about it yet.
We moved camp the next day and his horse got lame and as we would pass
every boy would ask him what was the matter with it. He got so mad he
told us it was none of our d——d business. Sometimes 3 or 4 would be
asking him at once. He finally got so mad he cursed us until you could
have heard him a mile, I think. We camped the next night in a dewberry
field.
As soon as day broke I got up and ate a good breakfast of dewberries. We
soon found that there were about a dozen Yankees on the hill, just above
us and they fired on us a few times, but over shot us. Col. Munford
ordered the bugle to be blown, which was a signal for us to mount. We
were formed in line and by that time the fog had raised so that we could
see the men on the hill. He wanted some one to try to ascertain who they
were and why they were there. I told him I’d go on the hill just
opposite, where we could see better, if some one would go with me.
Another man volunteered and I told him to come up from one side and I’d
go up from the other and we could meet on the top. When I went around on
my side of the hill and got to the top the other volunteer wasn’t there.
I was in sight of the men on the other hill and about 200 yards from
them I could see that there were 8 men on horseback and there were two
horses with out riders. I was riding my horse that I’d captured in the
spring. I shouted to them and bade them “Good Morning” and asked them to
whose command they belonged and they answered “Gen. Rosser’s”.
They asked me to come up to where they were, but I told two of them to
come down to me. They insisted on my coming but I told them there were
more of them and for two of them to come to me. Just then two men in
some sassafras bushes about 50 yds. from me fired at me and my horse
whurled so suddenly, that I heard the whiz of both bullets right by my
head. I fell over on my horse to keep her between me and the men. She
almost flew back in the direction from which we had come. The man who
started with me never went to the top of the hill, for he could see the
Yankees before I could and he soon started back, but saw me fall over on
my horse and reported me killed before I could get back. The Col. then
with drew the men and made preparation for an attack; but it never was
brought on. There were a few stray shots all day, but didn’t amount to
any thing among our men. Each side seemed afraid to attack the other, as
they couldn’t ascertain the strength of the opposing forces.
While we were recuperating and maneuvering around one evening at dress
parade an invitation was read out, that a Mrs. Lucas in the neighborhood
had given an invitation to all the Burdens, Sheppards and Pecks to
attend a dining at her home. The invitation was read all through Lee’s
army. A Lieutenant by the name of Burten from Bedford Co. and I were the
only ones who went. We had to go about six miles. She lived at a fine
farm house and the porch was crowded with guests. Mrs. Lucas and her
daughter came out to meet us and told us not to tell our names until she
guessed who we were. She looked at the Lieut. first and said she
couldn’t see the favor of any of the Burdens, Sheppards or Pecks. I told
her how he spelled his name and we soon found it was different from the
name she was hunting. She told us to get down and come in anyway; she
was glad we had come, etc., if the name was a little different. I told
her she had slighted me, that she hadn’t guessed who I was yet. She
said: “Oh! Come on, I know you by the favor. I’ll show you pictures of
your relations for two generations.”
She introduced the Lieut. to the ladies and said she would introduce me
a little later. She took me in and showed me a life-size portrait of her
grandfather Jacob Peck, who was born and raised near Fincastle, and was
my great uncle. She knew me by the picture, she said. She then took me
back and introduced me to the guests. Her husband came in, and to my
astonishment, I recognized him as the same Dr. Lucas that we had so much
fun over when we were in prison at Washington about four months before.
I laughed and called him the fresh fish and he enjoyed anew our
initiating we had for these witnesses that were sent to Washington. He
said he recognized me on first sight. Lieut. Burten went back that eve,
but as I had a three days’ furlough, I stayed until the next evening. Dr
Lucas sent regards to the other seven men who spent the time with us at
Washington.
After a few days we crossed the Blue Ridge and went back into Culpepper
Co., near the same place from which we had made our start to Gettysburg.
We rested and recuperated at this place a few days and the first
disturbance was one day when half of our division of cavalry was out
letting the horses graze, when the pickets came in and said that
Kilpatrick was crossing the Rappahannock. The bugle sounded, a signal to
saddle and make ready for movement. Our horses all being out and half of
the men, naturally we had a considerable stampede before the men could
get back and we could all make ready. By our delay Kilpatrick succeeded
in getting about all of his men over.
We formed our line of battle and aimed to make a cavalry charge, but
could not on account of the timber and underbrush. Just as we were
dismounting a young man by the name of Preston, who had come to our
regiment the day before, was shot in the neck and fell dead. We charged
them on foot and drove them across the river, capturing a few of their
men and having a few wounded and killed. Some of our slow fellows who
didn’t get up with us in time for the pursuit, hitched their horses at a
straw stack and were smoking and set the stack on fire, and burned it
and one of the horses.
A few days later while out on a scouting expedition, and some of our men
were left behind the majority of the command, having their horses shod,
Kilpatrick’s men came on them and would have captured them all, but for
Lieut. Ed. Hayth. He hurriedly formed them in line, as soon as he saw
the enemy approaching and charged them and drove them back. Hayth then
hurried on and overtook us and informed us of the enemy’s advance, so we
took our position behind a rock fence. When Kilpatrick’s men advanced
they came up through a corn field, so we had to shoot considerably at
random and their firing on us was about the same way. One of our men by
the name of Chas. Cross, from Lynchburg, was accidently killed by one of
our pieces of artillery, and Capt. Breckinridge sent word back to the
gunners that they must aim higher, and just as the messenger, William
Craddock, got to where young Cross was killed, he was shot by the
Yankees and died that night.
These were the only two men we lost. We left the fence and charged the
enemy and drove them back, but didn’t capture any of them.
The next we heard of the enemy was that Gen. Meade was concentrating his
forces in Culpepper Co., preparing to advance on Richmond. Gen. Lee then
moved with his army toward Culpepper, C. H., to check Meade. He sent
Stewart’s cavalry to cross the Rapidan river at Raccoon Ford, to drive
the enemy back.
When we crossed the river the enemy opened fire on us with three or four
pieces of artillery and the first ball that was fired cut Sergeant
McCabe’s leg off and the ball went on through his horse and killed it
instantly. We soon saw that our only chance was to dismount and charge
the enemy on foot. When we got near the artillery they began to fall
back and never halted until they got to Stevensburg, about two miles
distant. Here they opened fire on us again and we laid down in a mill
race, to get out of range and sight of the enemy. I was very warm,
having walked the two miles in double quick time and had to lie in that
spring water for about three hours until reinforcements arrived. When
the infantry got within about 200 yards we were ordered to charge the
artillery, which we did, but when they saw our reinforcements coming
they began retreating again to Brandy Station. We followed them
expecting them to make a stand again but they did not. They continued to
retreat until they joined the main army. We camped near Brandy Station
that night, and the next morning I was unable for service. My rest in
that spring water had given me a case of congestion of the liver. K. B.
Stoner was sent to take me back to Orange C. H., I wasn’t able to go
alone.
After going a couple of miles a citizen told us of a near way by going
through his corn field and on out in a cross road, that led to the main
road. Just after getting into the corn field I was riding a little ahead
while Stoner laid up the fence and to my great surprise one of Gen.
Pleasenton’s couriers came galloping up. I drew my pistol and ordered
him to surrender, which he did without a word. When we got through the
field and to the next house, the man of the house told us it wasn’t safe
to go farther because he had seen a scouting party go that way. He told
us another near route back to Lee’s headquarters.
We arrived there in due time and stayed all night and they told us where
to find the command. We at last reached them and turned our prisoner
over to the provost guard, and made a second start for Orange C. H. I
hadn’t eaten anything for a couple of days and would get so sick every
few miles that I’d have to get off and lie on the ground awhile and try
it again. After two days riding and resting along, we reached camp and
you may know I was glad to get back. I was sick for a week or so and
every thing remained quiet for some time.
This was nearing fall and we soon began fixing up winter quarters. We
tented in a heavy piece of timber and built a wind brake back of the
encampment. We had built log huts for winter quarters before this, but
just lived in our tents the winter of ’63, as we were expecting to have
to move at any time. Nothing occurred during the winter to break our
rest. We kept up picket duty, of course, and had fairly good rations,
principally corn bread and pork with some beef. The country had been so
over-run that we couldn’t expect to fare as well as we had previously.
We broke camp the early part of march and moved to Fredericksburg. The
evening we started, after we had saddled up, we were waiting for further
orders and about half of the boys lay down by the wind brake and went to
sleep. The horses were all hitched around, just where we had kept them
all winter. Some of the boys thought things were too quiet, so they
slipped around and set fire to the dry pine brush of the wind brake, and
such a scare as the fellows had when they waked up. The men jumped and
some ran off without their guns or pistols, and every little while the
fire would burn over one and it would fire away. The horses then got
scared and we had a general awakening. Some of the boys used Sunday
School words, lavishly, I’ll tell you. If they could only catch the
fellow who set the brush, was the cry; but catching him was the thing.
Every fellow was perfectly innocent, of course.
At about 8 o’clock at night we had orders to march toward
Fredericksburg. As the roads were bad, the wagons made poor time, so we
didn’t get there until the next day.
As soon as we arrived a detail was made from all the companies to send
men down to help draw a seine. I got permission to ride about some and
took one of the roads made by the infantry the year before, when the
battle was fought there. I heard a man cursing at the top of his voice
and I went to him and his wagon had upset with a load of fish. I helped
him turn his wagon back and to reload his fish and he was very grateful
for my help, so much so, that he gave me a dozen fine hickory shad. I
strung my fish up and hung them to my saddle and started on toward the
fishing, and directly I heard my man yelling and cursing and I rode back
to find his wagon upset again and every fish on the ground. I helped him
load up again and he gave me another doz. My hands and clothes were
considerably soiled by this time, so I decided to go on back with him.
He was going to the camp with the fish, so I helped him on out of the
woods. Every time the wagon would strike the roots of the trees the fish
would slip first to one side of the bed and then the other and by both
of holding and watching we kept them from upsetting the wagon again.
When I got back our quarter-master had issued fish to the men, so with
my extra 2 dozen, we had a fish feast.