_Camp near Orange Court House, Va.,
August 2, 1863._
In a recent letter I promised to write you more about our campaign in
Pennsylvania.
On the night of the 29th of June we camped on the west side of the
Blue Ridge Mountains, where they extend into Pennsylvania. On the
morning of the next day (30th) we renewed our march. Shortly after
starting it began raining, but the road was hard and well macadamized
and the rain made the march rather agreeable than otherwise. On this
same morning we passed where a splendid iron factory had been burned
by General Early, of Ewell’s Corps. It belonged to a very celebrated
lawyer and politician of Pennsylvania by the name of Thaddeus Stevens,
who is noted for his extreme abolition views and his intense hatred
for slave-holders. The works are said to have been worth more than
one hundred thousand dollars. The burning had thrown a great many
operatives out of employment, and they seemed to be much distressed.
During the day we wended our way up the mountains. The scene around
us was very different from what we had just passed through. Instead
of the enticing field and lovely landscape, we had now around us
that which was rugged, grand and towering. In the afternoon about
one or two o’clock we halted and bivouacked among the mountains.
Our stopping-place was in a basin of the mountains, which was very
fertile and contained a few very excellent and highly cultivated farms.
Awhile after we stopped I started off to one of these farmhouses for
the purpose of getting my dinner, as I was quite hungry, and wanted
something different from what I had been accustomed to most of the
time on the march. On going to the house a very nice, smiling young
girl met me at the door, and, upon my making known my wishes, she very
pleasantly said she “guessed” so; but said they already had agreed to
accommodate a good many, and that they would do the best they could by
us all if I would return at four o’clock.
This I did, and found Adjutant Reedy of the Fourteenth Regiment and
several others of my acquaintance. Reedy, being quite a young man,
talked a good deal to the girl. I was hungry as a wolf, but when I came
to the table and viewed what was upon it my hunger was aggravated more
than ever. It seemed that there was no end to everything that was good.
We had nice fried ham, stewed chicken, excellent biscuit, lightbread,
butter, buckwheat cakes that were most delicious, molasses, four or
five different kinds of preserves and several other dishes. We also
had plenty of good coffee and cold, rich milk to drink. None but a
soldier who has experienced a hard campaign can conceive of how a gang
of hungry men could appreciate such a meal. I must say that this late
dinner was a perfect Godsend.
After we had finished eating I felt ashamed to offer them Confederate
money, but could do no better, and offered it with an apology. They
very readily accepted it, and when I insisted that they should take a
dollar they refused and would have only fifty cents. This house was
guarded to prevent our men committing depredations such as they had
been doing, and which was having a demoralizing effect upon the army.
Soldiers must be made to behave or they will not fight.
Upon returning to camp I found that an order had been received during
my absence to cook one day’s rations and have it in haversacks and be
ready to march at five o’clock next morning. This at once aroused our
suspicions, for we concluded that we were about to meet the enemy.
Next morning about five o’clock we began moving. We had not gone more
than a mile and a half before our suspicions of the evening previous
were fully verified and our expectations realized by the booming of
cannon ahead of us in the direction of Gettysburg. Upon looking around
I at once noticed in the countenance of all an expression of intense
seriousness and solemnity, which I have always perceived in the faces
of men who are about to face death and the awful shock of battle. As
we advanced the cannonading increased in fury. It was Heth’s Division,
ahead of ours, fighting. At last we arrived upon a hill where, upon
another hill in front of us and about a half mile distant, we could
see Heth’s cannon arranged and booming away at the Yankees, who were
replying with considerable briskness, and we could also see the
infantry of Heth’s Division advancing in line of battle. It was really
a magnificent sight. The country was almost destitute of forest and was
so open that it was easy to see all that was going on. Our division
(Pender’s) continued to keep within about half a mile of Heth’s.
McGowan’s Brigade was at the right of the division and the Thirteenth
Regiment at the right of the brigade. This being the case, I could see
from one end of the division to the other as it moved forward in line
of battle. It was nearly a mile in length. The scene was certainly
grand, taking all the surroundings into consideration. After Heth had
driven the enemy some distance, it became necessary for our division to
go to his support. McGowan’s South Carolina and Scales’s North Carolina
brigades were the first to relieve Heth. The hardest fighting did not
begin until McGowan’s and Scales’s divisions went into it. Then such
a rattle of musketry I never heard surpassed. It lasted for about two
hours and a half without cessation; and how many brave fellows went
down in death in this short period of time! Officers who have been in
all the fights tell me that they never saw our brigade act so gallantly
before. When the order was given to charge upon the enemy, who were
lying behind stone fences and other places of concealment, our men
rushed forward with a perfect fury, yelling and driving them, though
with great slaughter to themselves as well as to the Yankees. Most of
the casualties of our brigade occurred this day (July 1). As the enemy
were concealed, they killed a great many of our men before we could get
at them. There were a good many dwellings in our path, to which the
Yankees would also resort for protection, and they would shoot from
the doors and windows. As soon as our troops would drive them out,
they would rush in, turn out the families and set the houses on fire.
I think this was wrong, because the families could not prevent the
Yankees seeking shelter in their houses. I saw some of the poor women
who had been thus treated. They were greatly distressed, and it excited
my sympathy very much. These people would have left their houses, but
the battle came on so unexpectedly to them, as is often the case, that
they had not time. I passed through a house from which everyone had
fled except an extremely old man. A churn of excellent buttermilk had
been left, and I with some other doctors helped ourselves. Someone near
by shot at us as we came out and barely missed us.
The fighting on the first day ceased about night, and when our brigade
was relieved by Lane’s North Carolina Brigade it was nearly dark.
I returned to the hospital, and on my way back came to Anderson’s
Division of our corps (Hill’s) lying in line of battle at least two
miles in rear of where the advance column was. Pender’s Division and
Heth’s had been fighting all day, and they were exhausted, besides
being terribly “cut up”; and when they drove the Yankees to the long
high range of hills, which the Yankees held throughout the fight, they
should have been immediately reinforced by Anderson with his fresh
troops. Then the strong position last occupied by the enemy could have
been taken, and the next day when Ewell and Longstreet came up the
victory completely won. If “Old Stonewall” had been alive and there, it
no doubt would have been done. Hill was a good division commander, but
he is not a superior corps commander. He lacks the mind and sagacity of
Jackson.
When I arrived at the hospital my ears were greeted as usual at such
time with the moans and cries of the wounded. I went to work and did
not pretend to rest until next morning after daylight. I found that
Longstreet had come and that McLaw’s Division of his (Longstreet’s)
corps was encamped near the hospital. Kershaw’s Brigade was almost in
the hospital grounds. On looking around I discovered many of my old
friends from Laurens whom I had not seen since the war began. They all
seemed surprised and glad to see me; but I had work to do and they had
fighting, so we could not remain long together. They were all lively
and jocose. Milton Bossardt was in a gay humor and left me as one going
on some pleasant excursion, but before two o’clock of the same day
he was a corpse. He was shocked to death by the bursting of a shell.
Captain Langston and a number of others in the Third Regiment who were
my acquaintances were killed.
On the second day of the battle the fighting did not begin until about
twelve or one o’clock, from which time until night it raged with great
fury. The reason it began so late in the day was because it required
some time for Ewell and Longstreet to get their forces in position.
Longstreet was on the right, Ewell on the left, and Hill in the center.
On the third day the fighting began early in the morning and continued
with the greatest imaginable fury all day; at one time, about three
o’clock in the afternoon, with such a cannonading I never heard before.
About 150 pieces of cannon on our side and as many or more on the side
of the enemy kept up one incessant fire for several hours. It was truly
terrifying and was like heavy skirmishing in the rapidity with which
the volleys succeeded one another. The roar of the artillery, the
rattle of the musketry and the wild terrific scream of the shells as
they whizzed through the air was really the most appalling situation
that could possibly be produced. Our troops (Pickett’s Division)
charged the enemy’s strong position, which they had now entrenched, but
with no avail, although we slaughtered thousands of them.
On the night of the 3d General Lee withdrew the army nearly to its
original position, hoping, I suppose, that the enemy would attack him;
but they didn’t dare come out of their strongholds, for well they knew
what their fate would be if they met the Confederate Army of Virginia
upon equal grounds. On the 4th our army remained in line of battle,
earnestly desiring the advance of the Yankees, but they did not come.
During this day the rain fell in torrents, completely drenching the
troops. Awhile after dark we began to leave, but took a different and
nearer route to the Potomac than the one we had just passed over.
Though nearer, it was very rough and not macadamized, and the passing
of wagons and artillery over it cut it up horribly and made it almost
impassable. Yet over this road our large army had to pass. I was lucky
enough to get into a medical wagon and rode until next morning. It
rained nearly all night, and such a sight as our troops were next day!
They were all wet and many of them muddy all over from having fallen
down during the night. Billie looked as if he had been wallowing in a
mud hole, but was in a perfectly good humor. On this day (July 5) we
recrossed the Blue Ridge Mountains. Climbing the mountains was very
tedious after so much toil, excitement and loss of sleep, but we met
with no obstacle until we came to Hagerstown, Md., where we stopped on
account of the Potomac’s being too high to ford. While here the Yankees
came up and our army was placed in line to meet them, but they did not
dare to attack. In this situation we remained for several days with
them in sight of us.
After a pontoon bridge was finished at Falling Waters and the river
was sufficiently down to ford at Williamsport, we left the vicinity
of Hagerstown. It was just after dark when we began leaving. It was a
desperately dark night and such a rain I thought I never before knew to
fall. I did not meet with such luck as the night we left Gettysburg,
Pa., but had to walk all night, and such a road I think troops never
before traveled over. It appeared to me that at least half of the road
was a quagmire, coming in places nearly to the knees.
Hill’s Corps went by Falling Waters and Longstreet’s and Ewell’s by
Williamsport, where they had to wade the river, which was still very
deep, coming up nearly to the shoulders. The pontoon bridge was at
Falling Waters, where we crossed. Our division was in the rear at this
place, and when we got within about a mile and a half of the river we
halted to enable the wagons ahead to get out of the way. Being very
tired, we all lay down and nearly everyone fell asleep, when suddenly
the Yankee cavalry rushed upon us, firing and yelling at a furious
rate. None of our guns were loaded and they were also in a bad fix from
the wet of the previous night. They attacked General Pettigrew’s North
Carolina Brigade first. Our brigade was lying down about fifty yards
behind his. I was lying down between the two brigades near a spring.
General Pettigrew was killed here. I was close to him when he was
killed. It was a serious loss to the service. We fought them for some
time, when General Hill sent an order to fall back across the river,
and it was done in good order. The attack was a complete surprise and
is disgraceful either to General Hill or General Heth. One is certainly
to blame. The Yankees threw shells at the bridge and came very near
hitting it just as I was about to cross; but, after we were close
enough to the river not to be hurt by our own shells, our cannon on
this side opened upon them, which soon made them “skedaddle” away.
We feel the loss of General Pender in our division. He died in
Staunton, Va., from wounds received at Gettysburg. He was a very
superior little man, though a very strict disciplinarian.