BATTLE OF SHARPSBURG, CONTINUED
Marching through Frederick--Barbara Fritchie and Stonewall
Jackson--Commissariat broken down--Green corn for rations--Stampede of
horses of a cavalry regiment--D. H. Hill's horse shot--Longstreet's
staff served guns of Washington Artillery--Cannoneers killed--Colonel
John R. Cooke's gallant fight--Am wounded and carried off the field.
When the army marched through Frederick City it was fine weather,
and the poet Whittier has told of Barbara Frietchie and Stonewall
Jackson--a stirring poem in winning lines, but quite without fact at
bottom. But that matters not in the least. The lines are good and we
can well afford to throw in with all the hard words and abuse of those
days, the poet's ideas about our Stonewall.
The country through which we marched was beautiful, rich, and fertile,
but we were constantly hungry. There were two lines of Whittier's
unquestionably true:
"Fair as a garden of the Lord,
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde."
In all parts of the army straggling was principally caused by want
of food. The commissariat had about broken down and the troops had
recourse to anything.
The fields were full of ripened corn, of which too much was eaten.
Parched and salted it would help a little, but eaten as it was, bad
attacks of diarrhoea followed and such sickness became serious.
On the night before the battle we were getting some sleep under thick
trees when a stampede of horses nearly trampled us. It was a very
surprising thing that happened to the Jeff Davis Legion. The regiment
was well lined and picketed in front, part of the officers and men
asleep, guards and pickets on good watch, and everything deadly quiet
and still, the night went on.
Suddenly something seemed to pass through the animals like a quiver of
motion, a faint sound as of a sign, and then the wildest scene ensued.
The horses for no reason that could be found had become stampeded,
in the greatest panic and excitement. They broke away from their
picket ropes, and droves of different sizes, some few, some many, were
thundering along over the country and about the army in wild confusion.
Fortunately, they drew to our rear, and the troopers were all night and
part of the next day recovering them. Duncan has well described to me
this extraordinary stampede, the like of which did not occur during the
four years' war.
The morning of September 17 opened with battle before us, presaged by
the booming of cannon already beginning their noisy work.
Longstreet held the right center, the other wing being trusted to
Jackson, Hood, Richard H. Anderson, McLaws, and other divisions. The
fall of Harper's Ferry had released the attacking forces and enabled
Jackson and part of his command to join Lee, but only after great
exhaustion and fatal straggling. The enemy called this battle Antietam,
from the little stream that traverses the field. We gave it the name of
Sharpsburg, the village that nestled in the hills by the turnpike some
little distance back of Antietam. It was a dreadful day of fighting.
Beginning early, we were at it until nightfall. Outnumbered three to
one, it seemed that at almost any time a strong effort by McClellan
would drive us back, but that effort was not made. A third of his fine
army did not fire a rifle.
In the early afternoon Lee, Longstreet, and D. H. Hill ascended a
little acclivity near the turnpike to make some observations. All
others--staff and orderlies--were kept back under the brow of the
hill to avoid drawing fire on the three generals. In truth, they did
look conspicuous on the crest, silhouetted against the bright skies,
and the shot of course came, a little wide, but the second was from a
good gunner. This shot struck the front legs of Hill's horse, cutting
them sharp off at the knees. The poor beast did not fall immediately,
and made no sound, but put his nose into the grass, nibbling at it
seemingly.
The small general in a high-cantled saddle could not get his leg over
in the position of the horse until Longstreet helped him down. There
is occasional talk of groans and shrieks of horses when wounded. I
have seen many badly hurt, but cannot recall an instance in which the
animal made any noise. This "gunning" has recently been associated with
another incident on the field, with which it has really no connection.
It was rather later in the day that we came on two of Miller's
Washington Artillery guns that had been doing splendid work, but were
now silent.
The gunners had fallen by their places, which were temporarily without
cannoneers. Longstreet was with us. Fairfax, Goree, Manning, Walton,
myself, and perhaps some others took our horses' bridles as we leaped
from them to the guns. The position was most important and it would
never do for those "barkers" to be dumb, even for a minute; so at it
we went, the improvised gunners, and were afterwards cheered by being
told we did it well and could always get a gunner's berth when we might
want it. I had the rammer, No. 1, I think it is in the drill. Our fire
was really strong and effective, until some reliefs from the Washington
Artillery came up "ventre à terre," and with hearty shouts took their
guns in hand. The enemy opened a severe fire on us, but fortunately
none of our party was hurt. We mounted again with cheerful grins at our
sudden adventure, and Longstreet, much pleased, turned his attention to
other imperiled points.
Now, some fellow writing recently says it was McClellan's own hands
that fired at Hill's horse in the morning; and that, in revenge,
Longstreet seeing his position in the afternoon, guessed it must be
McClellan and his staff and dispersed them with his own hands on the
guns. An awful lot of lies circulate nowadays about the Civil War, and
it is so long ago there is hardly anybody to contradict them.
Longstreet, whose eyes were everywhere, had noticed a regiment well
advanced that had been fighting steadily for hours. It had gathered a
few rails and stones for a chance protection to its brave fellows, all
the time keeping up a good steady fire on the force in front of them,
whose ranks looked so thick as to make one wonder they did not walk
over our poor little regiment. Longstreet never failed to encourage
good work; he praised freely and liberally where he thought it due,
constantly recommending meritorious young officers for promotion. There
was no illiberality about him, and the officers knew it and tried for
his notice. "Major Sorrel," he said, "go down to that regiment with
my compliments to the colonel. Say he has fought splendidly and must
keep it up. We are hard pressed and if he loses his position there is
nothing left behind him; his men have made noble sacrifices, but are to
do still more."
It was Col. John R. Cooke, commanding a North Carolina regiment, that
received this message. There were many dead along his lines and some
severely wounded who could not be got away. My horse was wounded on the
way to him, and the enemy's rifle firing was incessant, while from the
saddle Longstreet's praises and encouragement were given this brave
officer.
Profanity is justly considered objectionable. I do not approve of it,
but there are times when it may be overlooked, and never did such
words sound so sweet as when I looked into Cooke's eyes and heard him:
"Major, thank General Longstreet for his good words, but say, by ----
almighty, he needn't doubt me! We will stay here, by J. C., if we must
all go to hell together! That ---- thick line of the enemy has been
fighting all day, but my regiment is still ready to lick this whole
---- outfit. Start away, Major, quick, or you'll be getting hurt too,
exposed as you are on that horse!" This is only a faint reproduction of
the Colonel's gift of language, but it left me with no doubt that the
position would stand until that gallant heart gave the word to leave
it. He stuck there until ordered off at night. It was some time before
I was able to send a report to Longstreet, the hour being about 5
p. m., but he had Cooke promoted immediately. I had scarcely drawn my
hand from Cooke's when a shell burst over us and a fragment struck me
senseless from my horse.