RETURN TO VIRGINIA--INVESTMENT AND CAPTURE OF HARPER'S FERRY
At Harper's Ferry there was a considerable force of the enemy, which
place was now evidently the object of the expedition, and which we
approached soon after noon on the thirteenth. After the usual delays
required in getting troops deployed, our battery was posted on an
elevated ridge northwest of Bolivar Heights, the stronghold of the
Federals, and confronting their bold array of guns directed toward us.
We opened fire and were answered, but without apparent effect on either
side. This was late in the afternoon, and night came on before anything
was accomplished. The situation of Harper's Ferry is too well known to
require description. Only by a view of its surroundings from some
adjacent eminence can one form an idea of its beauty. As we stood by our
guns on the morning of the fifteenth we were aware of what had been in
progress for the investment of the place, and now, that having been
accomplished, we awaited with interest the general assault that was soon
to follow.
Directly on the opposite side of Bolivar Heights from where we stood
was Loudoun, or Virginia Heights, the extreme north end of the Blue
Ridge in Virginia, at the base of which flowed the Shenandoah River, and
now held by our artillery, as were also Maryland Heights, across the
Potomac, while various lines of infantry lay concealed along the banks
of both rivers and intervening valleys, completely enveloping the
Federal position.
The morning was still and clear, giving us a full view of the lines of
the lofty mountains. Simultaneously the great circle of artillery
opened, all firing to a common center, while the clouds of smoke,
rolling up from the tops of the various mountains, and the thunder of
the guns reverberating among them, gave the idea of so many volcanoes.
The fire of the Federals in the unequal contest made no perceptible
impression, not even on the lines of infantry which had begun closing in
from all sides for the final charge. Before they (the infantry) were
within musket range, a horseman bearing a large piece of tent-cloth
swept along the crest of Bolivar Heights. The doubtful color of the flag
displayed prevented an immediate cessation of the Confederate fire. It
proved to be in token of surrender, but after its appearance I saw a
shot from our second piece strike so near a horseman riding at speed
along the heights as to envelop horse and rider in its smoke and dust.
The whole affair, devoid, as it was, of ordinary danger, was one of
thrilling interest. Our commanding position gave us a full view of the
extensive and varied terrain, a thing of rare occurrence to other than
general officers. In addition to this, the fact that we had defeated our
antagonists, usually in superior numbers, in battle after battle
throughout a long campaign, tended to confirm us in the opinion that we
could down them every time, and that the contest must, at no distant
day, end in our favor. The number of troops surrendered was 11,500, with
seventy-three pieces of artillery, sufficient to supply our batteries
for some time. It was comparatively a bloodless victory, though the
commanding officer, Colonel Miles, was killed at the last moment, and
the terms of surrender arranged by General White, who had fallen back to
this place from Martinsburg. I saw their artillery as it was driven out
and turned over to us, supplied with most excellent equipments, and
horses sleek and fat.
As some time would be consumed in handling the prisoners and the
transfer of arms and stores, I set out in the afternoon for Charlestown,
and, as usual, went to my friends--the Ransons. After a refreshing bath
I donned a clean white shirt and a pair of light-checked trousers, and
was ready to discuss the events of the campaign with General Lindsay
Walker, who was also a guest of the house. About nine o'clock at night I
was joined by Dandridge, who had been met in the town by his mother and
sisters from "The Bower," and, with light hearts and full haversacks,
we set out for camp seven miles distant.
[Illustration: D. GARDINER TYLER]
The Ranson family has several times been mentioned in these pages, as
their home was a place where, when hungry, I was fed and, when naked,
clothed. The oldest son, Tom, now a lawyer in Staunton, Virginia, was my
schoolfellow and classmate at college when a boy in Lexington. After
receiving a wound at Cross Keys in June, 1862, when a lieutenant in the
Fifty-second Virginia Regiment, which incapacitated him for further
service in the infantry, he enlisted in the cavalry. By reason of his
familiarity with the topography of the country about Harper's Ferry and
the lower portion of the Valley, together with his indomitable pluck and
steady nerve, he was often employed as a scout, and in this capacity
frequently visited his home near Charlestown. The residence, situated,
as it was, a quarter of a mile from and overlooking the town, was
approached by a wide avenue leading by a gentle ascent to the front
gate, which stood about seventy-five yards from the house. Owing to the
commanding view thus afforded, it was a favorite place for a Federal
picket-post, so that, while a dangerous place for a rebel soldier to
venture, it offered many facilities for obtaining valuable information.
On one occasion young Ranson spent three days in this home while the
Federal pickets were on constant watch day and night at the front gate
opening into the lawn, and went in and out of the house at their
convenience. Moreover, the negro servants of the family knew of "Marse
Tom's" presence, but looked and acted negro ignorance to perfection when
catechised.
When standing at a front window one afternoon Tom saw a lady friend of
the family approaching the house from the town. On reaching the front
gate she, of course, was stopped by the sentinel and, after a parley,
refused admittance and required to retrace her steps. Two hours later,
much to their surprise, she appeared in the family-room and sank down
completely exhausted, having entered the house by a rear door, which she
had reached after making a detour of a mile or more to escape the
vigilance of the videttes in front. After recovering breath she
unburdened herself of her load, which consisted, in part, of a pair of
long-legged cavalry boots, late issues of Northern newspapers, etc. This
load she had carried suspended from her waist and concealed under the
large hoop-skirt then worn by ladies. The newspapers and information of
large bodies of Federal troops being hurried by rail past Harper's Ferry
were delivered by young Ranson to General Lee on the following day.
Throughout the preceding day, while occupied about Harper's Ferry, we
heard heavy cannonading across the Maryland border, apparently eight or
ten miles from us. This had increased in volume, and by sunset had
evidently advanced toward us, as the sound of musketry was distinctly
heard. It proved to be an attack on Gen. D. H. Hill's division and other
commands occupying the South Mountain passes. After stubborn resistance
the Confederates had been forced to yield. So on reaching camp toward
midnight, after our visit to Charlestown, we were not surprised to find
the battery preparing to move. With scarcely an hour's delay we were
again on the march, heading for Maryland. We arrived at Shepherdstown
before dawn, and while halting in the road for half an hour Henry Lewis,
driver at my gun, overcome with sleep, fell sprawling from his horse,
rousing those about him from a similar condition.