The battalion crossed the Potomac at Shepherdstown, and passing on
by Sharpsburg and Hagerstown, reached the head of Ewell’s column at
Greencastle, from which point it took the advance, and under orders
from Gen. Ewell marched directly to Gettysburg, where a heavy body
of Pennsylvania militia was assembled to keep the rebels out of
town. Company E, commanded by Lieut. H. M. Strickler, a gentleman, a
gallant soldier and good officer, but above all an earnest
Christian, and who is now (1870) a devoted minister of the M. E.
Church South, led the advance, and charged bravely upon the enemy,
who were drawn up on the left and in front, as the battalion moved
forward, to the number of thirteen hundred infantry and about one
hundred cavalry. The battalion did not have over two hundred and
fifty men in ranks, but they came with barbarian yells and smoking
pistols, in such a desperate dash, that the blue-coated troopers
wheeled their horses and departed towards Harrisburg without firing
a shot, while the infantry who could do so followed their example,
and those who could not threw down their bright, new muskets, and
begged frantically for quarter. Of course, “nobody was hurt,” if we
except one fat militia Captain, who, in his exertion to be first to
surrender, managed to get himself run over by one of Company E’s
horses, and bruised somewhat.
Most of White’s men pushed on after the cavalry, who were finely
mounted, but they had been on the run while the others were losing
time in the camps, and were, of course, too far gone to overtake,
and the battalion rallied in the town, where the citizens gave them
all they wanted, and more, so that in a little while all who ever
did indulge in the ardent were in a half-horse, half wild-cat
condition, and each man imagined himself to be the greatest hero of
the war; in fact, some were heard recounting to the horrified
citizens of Gettysburg the immense execution they had done with the
sabre in a hundred battles.
But about five o’clock, after the “Comanches” had been in town two
hours, Gen. Early came in and ordered the battalion to go on up the
railroad and catch some Yankees, but after a long chase they
returned without any “boys in blue,” and bivouacked that night with
the citizens—about a mile from town.
Next day was passed in scouting and in gathering up horses, supposed
from their fat, sleek appearance, to be fit for service, but no
greater mistake was ever committed, for a Southern cavalry horse,
after being entirely broken down, could travel farther and better
than the fine-looking steeds just from a Pennsylvania stable, and
many a man bitterly repented him of exchanging his poor old horse
for a new one, even if he got a watch to boot.
The battalion marched to Hanover Junction, where there had been
about eight hundred Yankee infantry, but who retired to their
fortifications, about two miles off, as the “Comanches” advanced,
nor did the latter deem it prudent to attack them; so after
skirmishing with them a short time they passed by and encamped for
the night, moving out the next morning, in front of Gen. Early’s
division, to Little York, where they arrived about noon; and as soon
as the General came up he ordered Colonel White to scout the country
and destroy as much railroad as possible. Here the Colonel divided
his command, sending Captain Myers with his Company off to the left
of the town, several miles, to picket and scout, while with the
remainder he moved forward to the Susquehanna, where he destroyed
the bridge, and on his return from Wrightsville to York burned
twenty-two railroad bridges.
When Gen. Early was ready to march to Gettysburg again he called in
his cavalry, and sent them in advance, with orders to watch
carefully the left flank; and in the afternoon of the same day a
strong force of the enemy appeared, and in a dash upon Company A
captured one man (Thos. Spates) who was _picketing_ in a cherry
tree. This opened the eyes of the men to the fact that they now had
something more than militia to deal with, but no one imagined that
it was anything but the army of Hooker, which had been beaten on the
Rappahannock, and no people were ever in finer spirits than those
who had followed the stars and bars to Pennsylvania.
The weather was extremely hot, but the marching was easy, and they
were in a land where abundance of everything could be obtained for
men and horses, while all the floating news and rumors that reached
the soldiers’ ears were of the “good time coming,” and had never a
tinge of gloom to mar the brightness which flooded the future as the
_seeming_ hand of destiny lifted the veil which divided that shadowy
land from the now, giving a glimpse of the glory and peace beyond;
and looking back to the “auld lang syne” they said, in the language
of holy writ, “the thing which hath been, it is that which shall be,
and that which is done is that which shall be done; and there is no
new thing under the sun;” for had not America been the land of rest
to the oppressed of the Old World; and had not Liberty always ground
the tyrant’s power to dust beneath the tread of Freedom’s legions in
this—her chosen home? and now the finger of events was tracing the
same old story before the eyes of the wondering nations.
One current story was that Gen. Lee had said that he would “winter
his army on the Hudson,” and another, that France had recognized the
Confederate States and was sending a fleet to open the blockade; and
just then an old soldier would break out with "Confound French
recognition and all the rest of them, the English and French
wouldn’t recognize us when we wanted them to, now we don’t thank
them for it, because we will make the Yankees themselves acknowledge
our independence in a month;" when, as if to confirm the opinion and
make it prophecy, a newspaper would proclaim in big letters,
“Hurrah! the war is over! Commissioners from Washington and Richmond
have met at Fortress Monroe to arrange terms for separation and
peace!”
This was the atmosphere in which the soldiers breathed while
campaigning in Pennsylvania, and many of them expressed _fears_ that
they would not be permitted to fight the Yankees “just once more”
before the war ended, but as they approached Gettysburg on Wednesday
evening, July 1st, all such _fears_ were dispelled, for there stood
the army of the North in battle order, and before the Southern
troops were within two miles of the place their foes came out to
meet them. White’s battalion, then the only body of cavalry with the
A. N. V., was sent by General Ewell to the left of his corps, and as
they gained the high hills in that direction they had a full view of
the battle between Ewell’s Corps and the 11th Corps of Meade’s army,
particularly that part of it fought by Heth’s Division. The enemy
was posted at a fence and ditch which ran together across an open,
level meadow, and Heth’s men came out of a woods about four hundred
yards in front, their thin line marching beautifully over the smooth
meadow towards the enemy’s position, and although under a fire from
the moment of their appearance, that increased rapidly as they
advanced, the line moved without any more falter or waver than if
they had been on dress parade, paying no attention to the men who
occasionally fell out of ranks smitten by the fire, but on reaching
a point about one hundred yards from the Yankee position an officer
on horseback gave an order, and with a shout Heth’s men sprang
forward in a charge, and now the line which had before been keeping
step and moving so regularly began to spread out as the fastest men
would leave the slow ones in the race of death, and the fire of the
enemy was now a perfect blaze and roar of musketry, but in a few
minutes the Confederate bayonets drove them from the fence, and in
utter route the Yankees fled across the open ground to the railroad,
their men falling thick beneath the withering rifle shots of the
Confederates, who had now no danger to affect their aim, and the
rout and pursuit disappeared from view through the streets of
Gettysburg.
Soon after this one of Ewell’s brigades marched to the left of the
town and into a large wheat field where lay a line of men in blue,
who raised up when the gray jackets were in about fifty yards, and
throwing down their guns, surrendered in a body—in all over one
thousand.
The battalion passed on, and soon met some of the Yankee skirmishers
from a division of infantry on Rocky Creek, whom they captured and
sent back, and in a short time Gen. Gordon marched his brigade to
the support of the cavalry.
About this time a battery, from the Cemetery Hill, was fiercely
shelling White’s men, and as Gordon’s skirmishers appeared on the
field a storm of shot and shell ploughed the ground along the line,
causing part of it to falter; but the Major who commanded was a
splendid officer, and brought his people up to it handsomely; once,
indeed, he displayed almost more than human coolness and daring—in
reforming a part of his line that had broken under the fire, and
just as the Major reached it a heavy shell exploded exactly under
his horse, causing both it and the rider to roll over on the ground
in a cloud of dirt and smoke, all who saw it thinking that they were
surely both killed, but amid the cloud the beautiful bay sprang up,
with the gallant Major still in the saddle exclaiming, “Steady men,
steady; no use to break; keep the line steady;” and the men were
steady after that.
At dark the troops encamped, and in the morning the battalion was
broken up into scouting parties for the Generals of the left wing,
the Colonel sending Captains Myers and Grubb with six men each to
find the right flank of the Yankee army. They crossed the creek, and
separating, scouted through a rough, broken country, for probably
two hours, when they united exactly in rear of the enemy’s right
wing, and sent a courier to inform the Colonel that they had found
it; Myers having gone around the right flank, while Grubb passed
through an opening in their line without knowing it until he found
himself in the rear. Here they saw a long train of wagons, and
determined to capture some of them, but on arriving in about two
hundred yards of the train found that a cavalry force had passed
along in their rear, while a line of infantry was marching directly
towards them, and from this interesting situation they agreed to
retire, without wagons, if they could.
It was a very particular business, but by passing off for Yankee
scouts, which Captain Grubb could do to perfection, they got clear,
taking five prisoners with them.
During the remainder of the day the battalion did little but watch
the flank and listen to fighting along the lines to their right, and
when night came they bivouacked near a deserted farm-house on the
bank of Rocky Creek.
The morning of July 3d opened very clear and very hot, and the
stillness along the lines of battle was at times almost oppressive,
but the occasional shell from Round Top and the Cemetery kept the
boys from going crazy with their anxiety to interpret the long
intervals of silence, and when one of the Yankee bombs set fire to
their farm-house they became perfectly satisfied, certain now, they
said, “that the Yankee army was still there.”
About noon, while the men were idly lying along the fields in the
full blaze of the July sun, with no motion of the air to mitigate
the oppressive heat, they noticed that the artillerymen were posting
their cannon in a long curving line along the hills, and to all
appearances meant business, although no firing was heard anywhere,
but about 1 o’clock one single gun, (a long black Whitworth,) pealed
out its sharp, ringing battle-note, and in an instant, from two
hundred and ten guns, boomed forth a raging tempest of lightning and
thunder that fairly shook the solid ground and made every man leap
to his feet in bewildered excitement; but soon came the reply from
the lines of Gen. Meade, where the white powder smoke, tinged with
the lurid flashings, puffed from the blazing muzzles of two hundred
and seventy cannon, and the great battle of Gettysburg was fairly
joined.
This firing continued until the veterans of Lee had gone through the
valleys and reached the fire-crowned heights where lay the Northern
army, when the Southern guns ceased their bellowing; but of the
general battle the great historians have written, and we have only
to tell of what White’s people did.
About 2 o’clock the Colonel marched his battalion up the turnpike
towards York, and no sooner did he get clear of the infantry lines
than he became aware that the enemy’s cavalry was on the ground.
Gen. Stuart had not yet appeared, and all that was heard from him
was that he was actively operating in Meade’s rear, destroying
trains, and had even gone so far as to make a demonstration on the
fortifications around Washington City.
White’s people found the Yankee pickets on the pike and drove them
to their reserves, which were drawn up in a body of timber running
parallel with the road and separated from it by an open line of
level grass fields, about three hundred yards in width, and as soon
as the Colonel found that a heavy force of cavalry was here he
reported it to Gen. Lee, who sent Gen. “Extra Billy” Smith with his
infantry brigade to support the battalion in guarding the flank.
There had always been a feeling of dislike between the Infantry and
Cavalry, the former regarding the latter as the most favored
branch—in not being compelled to walk—but nothing so thrilled them
with dread as a cavalry charge, while the cavalry feared even more
to attack the infantry of the enemy; and Napoleon, at the Pyramids,
proved that cool courage and scientific handling made infantry
invincible against the finest cavalry in the world, for such the
Mamelukes certainly were; but for all that the Infantry preferred to
have their foes on foot.
White’s battalion moved up the turnpike, with Gen. Smith’s brigade
in support, but very soon the General found that he was becoming
separated from the army, while on the flank and front the enemy’s
cavalry was threatening him, and fearing to be cut off if he
advanced further he decided to retire, which he did, halting at a
cross-road a mile back, and White and his boys had a great deal more
than their hands full, but what they could do they did, and in
constant dashes, first up the road in front and then out on the
right, they drove back the enemy’s parties as often as they
advanced.
The situation was full of excitement, to which the roar of the great
battle, raging at its hottest in their rear, added force; but
by-and-bye long lines of cavalry were discovered marching quietly
from the woods on the left, and now it did appear that the enemy was
all around, for no one doubted the new force being Yankees.
Making one last charge up the turnpike, in which a regiment of the
enemy was driven wildly back, Col. White turned his command and
retired slowly toward the position of Gen. Smith, but pretty soon,
in a cloud of dust, Gen. Stuart and staff galloped up the road,
inquiring eagerly for news; and just then, as the Colonel called his
attention to the new forces on the left, the wind unfurled their
banners and displayed the battle-flag of Dixie, while Stuart
remarked, "that is Gen. Fitz Lee’s Division;" and a perfect storm of
cheers and glad shouts of welcome went up from White’s excited
battalion. As soon as General Stuart could get his division up he
opened the battle by sending a regiment across the fields before
spoken of to the woods, but when half way to the timber a regiment
of the enemy came out, and in a few minutes was driven back, but
being reinforced by another the Confederate regiment retired, when
Stuart sent a second regiment to aid his first, and thus the battle
spread, growing fiercer as the numbers engaged increased, while the
artillery played upon all points where it could be managed without
injury to its own troops.
A story was told in ’62 to the effect that Gen. Lee had said he
would give ten dollars for every cavalryman killed or wounded in
battle with the sabre, and if he had been held to the contract now
he would have been ruined, for the men appeared to use their sabres
that evening from choice, and numbers on both sides fell under the
bloody blades.
After watching the conflict for some time, Col. White noticed a
Yankee regiment wheeling on the right of Stuart’s line, and ordering
his men forward met it fairly, driving it back to the woods in
gallant style, for which he received General Stuart’s thanks.
"When night had stilled the battle’s hum" the troops bivouacked on
the ground over which they had fought; but the news from the lines
was discouraging, saying that General Lee had failed to take the
heights; and when, an hour before day, the orders came to mount and
fall back silently, for fear the enemy’s batteries would open fire
again, the soldiers knew that the battle was lost, but they still
trusted to the genius and generalship of their great leader to turn
the defeat to their advantage in some way.
The 4th of July, a dismal day of rain and gloom was passed in
gathering the stragglers and wagons together, and in burying the
dead, but when evening came the battalion was divided; Colonel
White, with Companies B, C and E, acting as rear guard for Ewell’s
Corps, which brought up the rear in the retreat, as it had led the
van of the army in the advance; and Maj. Ferneyhough, with Companies
A, D and F, was sent to A. P. Hill, to be advance guard for his
Corps, as it held the front of the army.
The whole march was full of harassing attacks by the enemy, but
White fought those who followed, from every hill-top, only being
compelled once to call upon the General for aid, when Gen. Gordon,
the fiery Georgian, marched his brigade back and administered a
reproof that made the Yankees chary of pressing Ewell’s rear guard
too closely again.
Major F.’s command pressed forward under A. P. Hill’s orders,
driving the enemy’s pickets as they went, and whipping a force of
cavalry from the town of Waynesboro’, but when the army reached
Hagerstown the battalion united again, and remained with Gen. Ewell.
Nothing of special interest, other than what was done by other
commands, was performed by White’s battalion in the further progress
of the retreat, and the history of it has been told by other pens so
fully that were mine capable of the task there is nothing new to
write, and when the army of General Lee, baffled, it is true, in its
Northern campaign, but still in fighting trim and ready for battle,
reached the South bank of the Potomac at Williamsport, the men felt
that they were at home once more, and believed that the only result
of the Gettysburg disaster would be to prolong the war a few more
years, and indeed all hope of a speedy termination had died in the
hearts of the battle-scarred soldiers of the Army of Northern
Virginia, when, in connection with their own defeat, they counted
the bloody siege and final surrender of Vicksburg, the news of which
saluted their ears almost as soon as their own battle was over.
Almost as soon as he crossed the river, Colonel White reported to
Gen. Stuart, and asked permission to take his battalion to Loudoun
county, which that officer readily granted, and the “Comanches”
marched rapidly to Castleman’s Ferry, but found the Shenandoah so
high, from the heavy rains which had followed the battle, that it
was impassable, and the Colonel encamped his men a short distance
from the river to wait for it to fall.