OPENING OF CAMPAIGN OF 1863--CROSSING TO THE VALLEY--BATTLE AT
WINCHESTER WITH MILROY--CROSSING THE POTOMAC
The indications of another campaign were now not wanting, but what shape
it would take caused curious speculation; that is, among those whose
duty was only to execute. Longstreet had been recalled from the Virginia
Peninsula; Hooker's hosts again lined the Stafford Heights across the
Rappahannock. At evening we listened to the music of their bands, at
night could see the glow of their camp-fires for miles around. On June
2, Ewell's corps first broke camp, followed in a day or two by
Longstreet's, while A. P. Hill's remained at Fredericksburg to observe
the movements of Hooker. On the eighth we reached Culpeper, where we
remained during the ninth, awaiting the result of the greatest and most
stubbornly contested cavalry engagement of the war, which continued
throughout the day in our hearing--at Brandy Station. The Federals
having been driven across the river, our march was resumed on the tenth.
On the following day we heard, at first indistinctly, toward the front
of the column continued cheering. Following on, it grew louder and
louder. We reached the foot of a long ascent, from the summit of which
the shout went up, but were at a loss to know what called it forth.
Arriving there, there loomed up before us the old Blue Ridge, and we,
too, joined in the chorus. Moving on with renewed life, the continued
greeting of those following was heard as eye after eye took in its
familiar face. We had thought that the love for these old mountains was
peculiar to us who had grown up among them; but the cheer of the Creoles
who had been with us under Jackson was as hearty as our own.
We passed through Little Washington, thence by Chester Gap to Front
Royal, the first of our old battlegrounds in the Valley, having left
Longstreet's and Hill's corps on the east side of the mountain. At
Winchester, as usual, was a force of the enemy under our former
acquaintance, General Milroy. Without interruption we were soon in his
vicinity. Nearly two days were consumed in feeling his strength and
position. Our battery was posted on a commanding hill north of the town,
the top of which was already furrowed with solid shot and shells to
familiarize the enemy with its range. Our battery now consisted of two
twenty-pound Parrott, and two brand-new English Blakeley guns, to one of
which I belonged. And a singular coincidence it was that in putting in
the first charge my gun was choked, the same thing having occurred on
the same field a year before, being the only times it happened during
the war. I went immediately to the third piece and took the place of No.
1.
[Illustration: B. C. M. Friend]
The battle had now begun, the enemy firing at us from a strongly
fortified fort near the town. Their target practice was no criterion of
their shooting when being shot at, as not one of us was even wounded.
While the battle was in progress we had a repetition of the race at
Fredericksburg when there dashed from the Federal fort three artillery
horses, which came at full speed over the mile between us, appearing and
disappearing from view. On reaching the battery they were caught, and
one of them, which we named "Milroy," was driven by James Lewis at the
wheel of my gun, and restored with "Sedgwick" to his old associates at
Appomattox.
Night put a stop to hostilities, and the next day, until late in the
afternoon, we passed inactively. Then Hayes's Louisiana Brigade,
formerly commanded by Gen. Dick Taylor, formed in our front and,
charging with the old yell, captured the fort. After night I found two
members of our company in possession of a little mule, equipped with
saddle and bridle, supposed to be a United States animal. They said they
were afraid of mules, and turned him over to me. I forthwith mounted,
and passed an hour pleasantly, riding around. As I once heard a little
negro say, "I went everywhar I knowed, an' everywhar I didn't know I
come back." I felt now that I had a mount for the campaign, but next
morning one of the Richmond Howitzers claimed the mule and identified it
as his.
The bulk of Milroy's force escaped during the night, but we captured
four thousand prisoners, twenty-eight pieces of artillery, and hundreds
of wagons and horses, and equipped ourselves, as we had done in 1862, at
the expense of Banks. For our two recently acquired English Blakeley
guns we substituted two twenty-pound Parrotts, giving us four guns of
the same caliber. On the thirteenth we crossed the Potomac at
Shepherdstown, thence by way of Hagerstown, Maryland, to Greencastle,
Pennsylvania, the first live Yankee town we had visited in war times.
Many of the stores were open and full of goods, but as they refused to
take Confederate money, and we were forbidden to plunder, we passed on,
feeling aggrieved, and went into camp a few miles beyond.
Having a curiosity to test the resources and hospitality of this
abundant country, I set out from camp, with two companions, for this
purpose. A walk of a mile brought us to the house of a widow with three
pretty daughters. They told us they had been feeding many of our
soldiers and could give us only some milk, which they served, as seemed
to be the custom of the country, in large bowls. They said they did not
dislike rebels, and if we would go on to Washington and kill Lincoln,
and end the war, they would rejoice. Proceeding farther, we stopped at
a substantial brick house and were silently ushered into a large room,
in the far end of which sat the head of the house, in clean white
shirt-sleeves but otherwise dressed for company, his hat on and his feet
as high as his head against the wall, smoking a cigar. At the other end
of the room the rest of the family were at supper, of which we were
perfunctorily asked by the mistress to partake. A very aged lady, at a
corner of the table, without speaking or raising her eyes, chewed
apparently the same mouthful during our stay--one of our party
suggested, "perhaps her tongue." The table was thickly covered with
saucers of preserves, pickles, radishes, onions, cheese, etc. The man of
the house did not turn his head nor speak a word during our stay, which
was naturally over with the meal.
We returned to the battalion about sunset, encamped in a clean, grassy
enclosure, the horses enjoying their bountiful food, the men in gay
spirits, and the regimental bands playing lively airs. Shortly after our
return, there occurred an incident which lent additional interest to the
occasion.
No one at all familiar with the Rockbridge Artillery will fail to
remember Merrick. A lawyer and native of Hagerstown, Maryland, having
been educated abroad, he was an accomplished scholar and a fine
musician, with a stock of Irish and other songs which he sang admirably.
In person he was very slender, over six feet in height, with a long
neck, prominent nose, and very thin hair and whiskers. Cut off from
home and being utterly improvident, he was entirely dependent on
quartermaster's goods for his apparel, and when clothing was issued his
forlorn and ragged appearance hushed every claim by others who might
have had precedence. This Confederate clothing, like the rations, was
very short, so that Merrick's pantaloons and jacket failed to meet, by
several inches, the intervening space showing a very soiled cotton
shirt. With the garments mentioned--a gray cap, rusty shoes and socks,
and, in winter, half the tail of his overcoat burnt off--his costume is
described.
Indifference to his appearance extended also to danger, and when a
battle was on hand so was Merrick. Before crossing the Potomac he
disappeared from the command a perfect-looking vagabond, and now as we
were reveling in this bountiful country there rolled into our midst a
handsome equipage drawn by two stylish horses. When the door was opened
out stepped Merrick, handsomely dressed in citizen's clothes, and handed
out two distinguished-looking gentlemen, to whom he introduced us. Then,
in the language of Dick Swiveler, "he passed around the rosy"; and all
taking a pull, our enthusiasm for Merrick mounted high.
Our march under Ewell had been admirably conducted. We were always on
the road at an early hour, and, without hurry or the usual halts caused
by troops crowding on one another, we made good distances each day and
were in camp by sunset. I never before or afterward saw the men so
buoyant. There was no demonstration, but a quiet undercurrent of
confidence that they were there to conquer. The horses, too, invigorated
by abundant food, carried higher heads and pulled with firmer tread.
Our march from Greencastle was through Chambersburg and Shippensburg,
and when within eight or ten miles of Carlisle we passed through one or
two hundred Pennsylvania militia in new Federal uniforms, who had just
been captured and paroled. Before reaching Carlisle we very unexpectedly
(to us) countermarched, and found the militiamen at the same place, but
almost all of them barefooted, their shoes and stockings having been
appropriated by needy rebels. As we first saw them they were greatly
crestfallen, but after losing their footgear all spirit seemed to have
gone out of them. They lingered, it may be, in anticipation of the
greetings when met by wives and little ones at home, after having
sallied forth so valiantly in their defense. How embarrassing bare feet
would be instead of the expected trophies of war! Imagine a young
fellow, too, meeting his sweetheart! That they kept each other company
to the last moment, managed to reach home after night, and ate between
meals for some days, we may be sure.
Before reaching Chambersburg we took a road to the left, in the
direction of Gettysburg. To give an idea of the change in our diet since
leaving Dixie, I give the bill-of-fare of a breakfast my mess enjoyed
while on this road: Real coffee and sugar, light bread, biscuits with
lard in them, butter, apple-butter, a fine dish of fried chicken, and a
quarter of roast lamb!
On the morning of July 1 we passed through a division of Longstreet's
corps bivouacked in a piece of woods. Our road lay across a high range
of hills, from beyond which the sound of cannonading greeted us. By
three o'clock that afternoon, when we reached the summit of the hills,
the firing ahead had developed into the roar of a battle, and we pushed
forward on the down-grade. The valley below, through which we passed,
was thickly settled, and soon we began to meet prisoners and our
wounded, whose numbers rapidly increased as we advanced, and at the same
pump by the roadside we frequently saw a group of Federal and
Confederate soldiers having their wounds bathed and dressed by Northern
women, kind alike to friend and foe. When we reached the field, about
sundown, the battle was over. This was July 1 and the first of the three
days of terrific fighting which constituted the battle of Gettysburg.