On the 21st of April, 1863, Gen. Jones marched his brigade from
their camp, now near Harrisonburg, for the memorable expedition
through West Virginia, intending to damage the Baltimore and Ohio
Rail Road, and to threaten the enemy in that country, so as to not
only prevent troops from going to the Rappahannock where “fighting
Joe” Hooker was confronting the Army of Northern Virginia, but to
draw forces from his army to protect the Rail Road and keep Western
communication with the capital unbroken; a scheme which originated
in the far-reaching mind of General Lee, and one that exerted a
telling influence upon Hooker’s operations at Chancellorsville.
Gen. Jones’ brigade was a noble one, consisting of the 6th, 7th,
11th and 12th Regiments of Virginia Cavalry, 1st Maryland Battalion
of Cavalry, 35th Battalion of Va. Cavalry, 41st Battalion of Va.
Cavalry, (Witcher’s mounted rifles,) Col. Herbert’s Battalion of
Maryland Infantry, Captain Chew’s Battery of Horse Artillery, and
the Baltimore Battery of Light Artillery; in all, four regiments,
commanded by Cols. Flournoy, Dulaney, Lomax and Harman, and four
battalions, under Lieut.-Cols. Brown, White, Witcher and Herbert;
with two batteries, of four guns each; making a total of about four
thousand men.
The brigade marched through Brock’s Gap, in the North Mountain, and
passing Howard’s Lick, soon had a view, full and complete, of the
famous Moorfield Valley; and great was the gratification and delight
of all the men as they looked down from the mountain top upon the
lovely scene, lying as it did like a picture of beauty at their
feet, girt with its dark mountain frame, and fringed with its
evergreen bordering of hemlock and cedar; white snow-caps all
around, but everything fresh as springtime in the valley, where the
South Branch was foaming and dashing over its rocky bed, sometimes
winding along the base of one mountain, then crossing to the other,
and sometimes rolling gloriously through the carpet of living green
in the centre of the valley.
The brigade encamped at Moorfield, until the morning of the 24th,
when the General marched it to Petersburg, nine miles above, where
the men forded the river.
The ford at that place is covered with rocks of almost every size
and shape, making it a difficult passage at any time, but now the
mountain stream was full to overflowing, and the waters foamed over
the rocks as from some enormous mill-flume, increasing infinitely
the difficulty and danger of crossing, so that some of the men, in
viewing the angry flood, turned and fled in greater dismay than if
an army of Yankees had faced them; but by aid of some noble-souled
citizens, who rode through the water and guided the horses of the
men, the crossing was effected, and the cavalry found themselves
fairly started into the mountains, but the infantry and artillery,
being unable to cross, were sent back to the Shenandoah Valley.
On the 25th, the command approached Greenland Gap, in the eastern
front ridge of the Alleghany mountain, Col. Dulaney, with his
regiment (the 7th) being in front; and when, about sunset, the
enemy’s pickets were discovered, the 7th charged, driving them in
and finding a force of infantry strongly posted in an old log
meetinghouse and some other buildings near by. Col. Dulaney himself
was badly wounded, and his regiment cut in two, as the enemy fired
so heavily upon it, after the leading squadrons had passed their
position, that the remaining ones were unable to follow, and halted
in front of the meetinghouse.
Gen. Jones soon came up, and at once began his arrangements to take
the place. He had brought several kegs of powder with him to blow up
the Cheat River trestle work with, and he now determined to try the
effect of some of it just here in his first encounter with the
enemy. His pioneer corps, made up by details from each regiment and
battalion, was provided with axes and bundles of straw, the first to
be used to break open the windows of the fort, while the latter was
to be set on fire and thrown into it, and at the same time Lieut.
Williamson (his engineer) was to get the powder under the building.
He dismounted his three battalions and placed White’s men in front;
Brown’s Marylander’s in the rear, and Witcher’s mounted riflemen at
the end of the house, and it being now dark, the General rode down
near it, and politely informed the Yankees that “he had them
surrounded, and a barrel of gunpowder under the house,” and that,
unless they surrendered, he would “blow them all to hell in five
minutes;” to which they, with equal politeness responded, by
requesting him to “go there himself.”
The General’s information as to the surrounding was correct, but
Williamson’s gunpowder plot was a failure, owing to his inability to
approach the fort without getting shot, and they knew that if he had
powder under them he wasn’t likely to tell them, for they were fully
persuaded he would greatly prefer blowing them up, if possible, to
having them surrender on any terms; and Gen. Jones, thinking they
had received sufficient warning, ordered his storming parties to
advance, telling the men to “go right up to the building and punch
out the chinking of the logs;” “that the pioneers would throw
blazing straw into the house, and then all were to fire their guns
and pistols through the cracks, by the light of the straw inside;”
and assuring the men that “a signal would be given for them to
retire before the powder was touched off.”
The battalions advanced promptly to the positions assigned them;
White’s men being compelled to wade a stream that ran through the
Gap, nearly waist deep, three times; and all the while exposed to a
withering fire, for the Yankees opened fire from the house the
moment the troops began to move, and kept it up incessantly.
The Marylanders, led by Col. Brown, moved quickly to the rear of the
house as White’s battalion marched up in front, and here was a great
blunder, on the part of General Jones, in placing these two commands
in such a position, for their fire was far more fatal to each other
than to the enemy, as they both commenced firing at short range,
with the old house exactly between them.
As for Witcher’s men, they were mountaineers, and fired from behind
the rocks at a safe distance, scattering their bullets promiscuously
all about the house, but really doing quite as much good as the
other two commands which charged immediately up to the walls.
The Yankees fired coolly and rapidly, and almost before the pioneer
corps could light the first bundle of straw and throw it into the
house, every man of the corps was down, either killed or wounded,
but they acted nobly while they were allowed to act at all.
The affair lasted about fifteen minutes, during which the firing was
very heavy and constant, and at one time the powder business very
nearly caused a stampede among the Confederates, as one of them
suddenly called out to his comrades to “look out for the powder,”
and they all took it to be the promised signal of Gen. Jones.
The panic was soon over and the assault renewed with unabated vigor,
but no impression was made upon the intrepid garrison, who all stood
to their work bravely, until Thos. E. Tippett, a gallant soldier of
Co. A, White battalion, climbed up the stick chimney and placed some
burning straw upon the roof of the house, which very soon brought
out a flag of truce, and finally an unconditional surrender of the
Yankees, but a party of them in a house near by kept up a scattered
firing a few minutes longer.
There were only seven of the enemy killed and wounded, and their
whole force was less than eighty, but they were all Virginians, from
among the mountains, and were fighting in the gate that if opened
would let the Confederates right among their homes, and they left no
stain upon the honor of Old Virginia in their defence of the pass,
for they held out until their fort was wrapped in flames.
The loss of the two battalions was nearly one hundred; but much of
it was due to the miserable position they occupied, by which they
were constantly firing upon each other.
Just as soon as everything was arranged, and the wounded who were
able to move, together with the prisoners, had been sent back, the
brigade continued its march without further halt, until daylight,
when the almost worn out people were allowed to stop awhile, to rest
and refresh themselves and horses. But soon the march was resumed,
and followed without any special incident, until it led to
Evansville, in Taylor County, where a halt for half a day was made;
and here the bushwhackers were discovered in considerable numbers
for the first time.
It is true, that in passing what is known as the "Shades of Death"—a
dark and gloomy gorge in the Shenandoah Mountain, which is shadowed
to twilight gloom even at noonday, by the rocky wall which on either
side is covered with the hemlock, the cypress and the towering white
pine—the advance guard had skirmished with and captured a few of the
“Swamp Dragons,” as they termed themselves, but at Evansville bands
of armed men, in hunting shirts, could be seen on all the mountain
crags, viewing from a safe distance the army of rebels, lying
quietly in their country; but they seldom approached near enough to
the main body to get a shot or be shot at. While here, some of the
men, who had been engaged in plundering a store on the route, came
up, and Gen. Jones finding two of them, one of whom had a hoop skirt
and the other an umbrella, compelled the hoop skirt man to wear his
plunder around his neck, and the other to hold the umbrella over him
during all the afternoon, in full view of the whole command. That
night the brigade crossed the R. R., at Independence Station, and
pushed rapidly forward to Morgantown, at which place the “home
guard” was found drawn up in battle order on the hills; but they
fell back as Jones advanced, not firing a gun, and finally
disappeared, when the town authorities sent an old citizen out to
meet the raiders, and negotiate a surrender of the town. This
gentleman approached in great trepidation, making all the Masonic
signs he was master of, and on being brought to Gen. Jones, was
informed that no damage was intended the town, provided the town
people did not attempt to damage the troops, which greatly pleased
him, and he returned from his mission highly pleased with Jones and
his men.
Here again the General exercised all his authority to prevent
plundering, and was so very strict that he compelled Adjt. Watts to
leave some calico he had bought and paid for in U. S. money,
swearing that his men should not carry any such rubbish; but a few
of them managed to smuggle some calico, by folding it in their
saddle blankets. His protection, however, did not extend to stock
suitable for the army, but on the contrary, it was his policy to
drive with him as many such horses and cattle as he could find.
The brigade lay at Morgantown from about 10 A. M. until dark, when
the march was resumed, and the whole force pushed forward to
Fairmount, where it arrived about the 1st of May, and found about
nine hundred “home guards” and militia concentrated for the defense
of the town. The raiders reached the vicinity of the place about
sunrise, but the morning was dismal and foggy, and as Jones formed
his line in front and flank of Fairmount, the enemy formed theirs on
the hills above, and appeared resolved to do battle valiantly for
their town and the R. R. bridges. They had three pieces of
artillery, one an old iron twelve-pounder and the others brass guns,
brought upon a platform car from Wheeling, with about twenty
soldiers to work them. The General dismounted his men, and taking
charge himself of the 7th and 12th regiments and the Maryland
battalion, moved to the right, while Col. Lomax, of the 11th, with
his own regiment and the 6th, together with White’s battalion,
commanded the left, and leaving Capt. Myers with his company, and a
number of men from the other regiments, mounted and stationed on the
road that leads directly to the wire suspension bridge. Witcher’s
riflemen had dismounted long before, and were approaching the place
by a march up the railroad to the left.
Col. White, with his battalion and part of the 11th, was ordered by
Lomax to advance upon the right of the enemy’s line, which he did,
driving them like sheep, and at the same time the mounted men
charged into town, and took possession of the bridge, which
compelled the Yankees to ford the river above the town, followed
closely by White and his men, who, immediately after crossing,
turned to the right, and forced the enemy to take refuge in the R.
R. bridge, where most of their force was now concentrated, and from
which they opened fire with their artillery, but Gen. Jones was
moving quietly to their rear, which being discovered, caused the men
in charge of the two brass pieces to beat a hasty retreat, a thing
very easily done considering the fact that they were still mounted
on the car to which a locomotive, under steam, was attached.
A dash was now made upon them, in which the iron gun was captured,
and very soon after the whole force, to the number of seven hundred,
surrendered, the others having made their escape into the mountains.
The affair was a decided success, not a man being hurt on either
side, and now after destroying the Rail Road bridges, and damaging
the track and rolling stock of the road very seriously, the raiders
passed on towards Clarksburg, in Harrison county, on the N. W. Rail
Road, at which point they found a heavy force of infantry in
fortifications, and after some skirmishing, Gen. Jones deemed it
advisable to let it alone, especially as he learned that the gallant
Irishman, Col. Mulligan, of Missouri fame, was in command;
consequently he flanked Clarksburg to the left, and marched to
Philippi.
The Maryland battalion was badly cut up in a fight with infantry at
Bridgeport, caused by charging among the post and rail fences on the
Rail Road, in which Col. Brown was wounded.
The attack on the Cheat River works was a failure, owing to the 6th
Regiment being driven back by a heavy infantry force, which defended
the ugly mountain gorges leading to the rail road, and which fought
from barricades inaccessible to cavalry, even with no enemy to hold
them.
Beaching Philippi, the General sent back to the Valley all the
prisoners and stock, and marched his command to Buckhannon, in
Upshur county, where he halted for a short time to watch a party of
the enemy that came down from Clarksburg, intending to guard the
party conveying the stock and prisoners from an attack by these
fellows; and after all danger from this source was over he passed on
by Weston, Lewis county, to West Union in Doddridge county, near
which place he again operated on the Rail Road at Cairo Station,
where there were quite a number of short tunnels. These tunnels had
been blasted and bored through almost solid rock, and inside of them
a frame work was built wide enough for the track, and the space
between the frame and side of the tunnel was filled with cord wood,
an immense quantity of which was used for the purpose. There was a
large force of home guards and militia at the station, and by the
way, all the troops of this kind were invariably in U. S. uniform,
and armed with U. S. muskets, while the “bushwhackers,” or “Swamp
Dragons,” carried only their old sporting rifles, and dressed in
homespun.
The Yankees only made a show of fight, and a cavalry charge soon
brought them to terms without losing a man; some of them, of course,
escaped, but about three hundred were made prisoners.
The Rail Road buildings were burned, and White’s men were detailed
to work on the tunnels, which they did most effectually by pouring
coal oil on the cord-wood and setting it on fire, which caused the
rock to burst and fall in, so that the destruction was complete.
From Cairo the march was continued through the counties of
Pleasants, Ritchie, and Wirt, to the Little Kanawha river, and at
every turn the bushwhackers enlivened the route by popping away with
their old rifles, but they would not venture in range of the
Sharpe’s carbines and Colt’s revolvers carried by the brigade, and
consequently did no damage, but on the contrary did much good, in
acting as provost guard, to keep up the stragglers; and their
sprightly style of warfare kept Jones’ men in a good humor all the
time, in fact the most pleasant part of the whole raid was through
the bushwhackers’ special territory, for without anything to vary
the monotony of the march, this continual roaming through that
apparently interminable sea of mountains was a very tiresome
business.
The command reached the oil works about noon, and a detail was sent
forward to Elizabeth City, while the main body halted at Oiltown.
There were a large number of wells in operation, worked by steam
engines, and up to the last moment the oil men kept busily engaged,
but after awhile they learned the character of their visitors, and
surmising their object, the workmen turned away from the wells, and
shutting off steam, remarked, with doleful faces, “I guess oiling is
played out now,” and of a surety their guess was correct, for
destruction was the watchword of Jones’ brigade at Oiltown, and
nowhere, except in a powder mill, could it be more speedily and
generally accomplished. The oil was all around, some of it in
barrels piled up, and some in flatboats in the river, the boats
being built water-tight and filled with the oil, some of them
holding a thousand barrels each, which was run into them by pipes
directly from the wells.
These boats, after being set on fire, were cut loose from the shore
and allowed to float away, and as they burst, letting the blazing
oil spread over the water from shore to shore, the truly wonderful
spectacle of a river on fire was presented, while to heighten the
grandeur of the scene, explosion after explosion boomed out upon the
night air, and columns of dense black smoke twined with the red
flame from the wrecks of the boats, loomed skyward a hundred feet
from the blazing sea; and on shore the oil barrels were burning and
bursting, their contents flowing in streams of liquid flame all over
the ground, and from the wells themselves great fiery pillars rose
up, and added to this, the many buildings contributed their quota of
flame to the great conflagration; in fact no better illustration, on
a small scale, could be presented of the popular idea of the burning
brimstone lake, where
“The devil sits in his easy chair,
Sipping his sulphur tea,
And gazing out, with a pensive air,
On the broad bitumen sea,”
for from pump to river all was flame.
The amount of oil destroyed was estimated at one hundred and fifty
thousand barrels, and this has been fully confirmed by reports of
owners published since the war; and taking into consideration the
destruction of boats, machinery, buildings, &c., the damage was
immense.
As soon as the destruction was complete, the raiders went out into
the night, leaving a bitter remembrance of their visit in the hearts
of the people who dwelt on the desolated shore of the Little
Kanawha, and many an oilman was heard to wish, in substance, as the
brigade marched away, that “he might never be any nearer hell than
he had been that night.”
These things occurred about the 10th of May, and now the little army
of Jones passed on through the counties of Calhoun, Gilmer, Braxton,
Nicholas and Fayette, to Lewisburg in Greenbrier, during part of
which march the command was divided for the better securing of
rations of forage, and Col. Lomax with his regiment and White’s
battalion took a new route through the mountains. Arrived at
Lewisburg, the command halted from Saturday noon until Monday
morning, and visited the celebrated Greenbrier White Sulphur
Springs, where many of the men, by Gen. Jones’ permission, spent
Sunday, the 17th of May, 1863.
On Monday morning, the brigade marched on by the noted Hot, Warm,
and Alum Springs of Bath county, through Augusta to the camp near
Mount Crawford in Rockingham, where it arrived on the evening of May
21st, having been absent thirty-two days.
Owing to the loss of papers and diaries, by the circumstances of
war, it has been utterly impossible for the author to give more than
the most meagre outline of the Western Virginia expedition of
General Jones’ brigade, which took rank among the army campaigns as
a very important one, it having aided, to no small degree, in
securing to the Confederates the great victory at Chancellorsville,
by accomplishing the objects for which it was intended, as explained
in the beginning of this chapter.
The visible fruits of the expedition, besides the damage to the rail
roads and oil works, were about nine hundred and fifty of the enemy
killed, wounded and captured, about one thousand small arms and one
cannon destroyed, twelve hundred horses and one thousand cattle
brought safely through to the Valley.
About twenty bridges and tunnels on the Baltimore and Ohio and North
Western Rail Roads had been destroyed, and the Southern
sympathizers, of that country for a time relieved from the
domineering rule which invariably characterized the home-made
Yankee, wherever he had the power to annoy his Southern neighbor,
and finding by this raid that it was not as impossible as they had
thought, for the Confederate troops to come among them, these tories
took the lesson to heart and acted more like men towards the people
who differed with them in opinion and feeling, than before.
The turning point in the fortunes of the young Confederacy had been
passed, during the absence of the Ashby brigade, and with the fall
of “Stonewall” Jackson her star began to wane.
The news of his death had reached the brigade while in the wildest
part of its mountain campaign, and it clouded the spirits of the
whole command; many of the men having such implicit faith in him
that his death was to them the dreary sign which told that all their
hopes were dead, like their hero, and buried in his grave; and from
that time their march took the character of a funeral procession.
The following touching poem was written by Capt. J. Mort. Kilgour, a
day or two before the return to camp:
=THE DEATH OF GEN. THOMAS J. JACKSON.=
“Give me the death of those,
Who for their country die,
And oh! be mine, like their repose,
When cold and low they lie.
Their loveliest mother earth,
Enshrines the fallen brave,
In her sweet lap, who gave them birth,
They find their tranquil grave.
MONTGOMERY.”
---
“Come, comrades, come, with lowly hearts come,
And grief’s cypress wreaths let us borrow,
Whilst the trumpet’s long wail, and the muffled drum,
Will bespeak our tear-burdened sorrow.
Come, comrades, come, a chieftain has gone,
A beacon with victory beaming,
Which through the dark battle-cloud brilliantly shone,
Where our war-tattered banners were streaming.
With slow, solemn steps let us gather around,
The spot where his ashes lie sleeping,
And we’ll feel in our souls that ’tis hallowed ground,
Whilst in anguish unspoken we’re weeping.
“The hero has gone, but there’s still left behind,
The beauteous light of the story,
Which history will tell, as the passing years bind,
’Round his name, fresher garlands of glory.
No more will he cheer the brave columns he led,
Where the lightnings of battle were flashing,
And over the heaps of the dying and dead,
Its volleying thunders were crashing;
But his clarion voice from his grave we will hear,
Through the conflict in melody flowing,
And the fire of his eye will beam radiant and clear,
In the pictures of memory glowing.
“Oh, come maidens, come, and together we’ll strew,
O’er his resting place, Spring’s sweetest flowers,
And the stars will shed on them their tear-drops of dew,
As they watch through the night’s stilly hours.
We will strew them in silence for our souls are opprest,
With an anguish too deep to be spoken,
Which can only be told by a sob in the breast,
That speaks of a heart nearly broken.
Farewell, matchless chieftain!—kind Heaven will forgive
The rebellious spirit of sorrow,
As it whispers—’though dead, his example will live,
Growing brighter each coming to-morrow.’
“Yes! his name will be written, in letters of gold,
On the crest of each sky-kissing mountain;
In music’s sweet measures his fame will be told,
By the murmur of streamlet and fountain;
It will haunt each green spot with its magical spell,
It will live in the song of each river,
In the bowers and aisles of each forest ’twill dwell,
Like a spirit of beauty, forever!
But come, comrades, come, let us back to the field,
’Tis there our duty still calls us,
With a tear and a sigh for our leader and shield,
And a heart for whatever befalls us.”
“J. MORTIMER KILGOUR.”
“_White’s Battalion, May 17th, 1863_.”
After the return to camp, and until the 1st of June, the company
officers were busy with muster and pay-rolls, and other business
which a month’s neglect had left upon their hands, and on the 28th
May the State election was held, in which poll-books were opened in
the various regiments, so that all the soldiers who were entitled to
do so could vote.
The weather was beautiful, rations and forage plentiful and good,
and the political horizon, apart from the gloomy shadow left by the
death of General Jackson, was brighter than for many months. True,
the army of Hooker still lay on the North bank of the Rappahannock,
but the bloody defeat at Chancellorsville had wrecked the hopes of
its General and its men to compete successfully in a battle with
Lee’s army, and all they did, or could do, was to watch the Southern
army, and keep close to their entrenchments until their ranks were
again filled; but Gen. Lee did not propose to be so very quiet while
his adversary was recruiting, and on the last day of May an order
was issued for tents and baggage to be stored and the Ashby brigade
prepared to join the army East of the mountain.
Capt. George N. Ferneyhough, of Co. F., by virtue of being the
senior Captain in the battalion, had, during the absence of the
command in West Virginia, succeeded in getting the election held
some time before, for Major, set aside, and himself appointed to the
position.