From Chancellorsville to Gettysburg--Camp, March, and Battle.
Again we are in our old quarters. Details were sent out every day to
gather up the broken and captured guns, to be shipped to Richmond for
repairs. The soldiers had gathered a great amount of camp supplies,
such as oil cloths, tents, blankets, etc. When a soldier captured
more than a sufficiency for his own wants, he would either sell to his
comrades or to the brigade sutler. This was a unique personage with
the soldiers. He kept for sale such articles as the soldier mostly
needed, and always made great profits on his goods. Being excused from
military duty, he could come and go at will. But the great danger
was of his being captured or his tent raided by his own men, the risk
therefore being so great that he had to ask exorbitant prices for
his goods. He kept crackers, cards, oysters and sardines, paper and
envelopes, etc., and often a bottle; would purchase all the plunder
brought him and peddle the same to citizens in the rear. After the
battle of Chancellorsville a member of Company D, from Spartanburg,
took the sutler an oil cloth to buy. After the trade was effected, the
sutler was seen to throw the cloth behind a box in the tent. Gathering
some of his friends, to keep the man of trade engaged in front, the
oil cloth man would go in the rear, raise the tent, extract the oil
cloth, take it around, and sell it again. Paying over the money, the
sutler would throw the cloth behind the box, and continue his trade
with those in front. Another would go behind the tent, get the cloth,
bring it to the front, throw it upon the counter, and demand his
dollar. This was kept up till everyone had sold the oil cloth once,
and sometimes twice, but at last the old sutler began to think oil
cloths were coming in too regularly, so he looked behind the box, and
behold he had been buying the same oil cloth all night. The office was
abolished on our next campaign.
Lee began putting his army in splendid trim. All furloughs were
discontinued and drills (six per week) were now begun. To an outsider
this seemed nonsensical and an useless burden upon the soldiers, but
to a soldier nothing is more requisite to the discipline and morale of
an army than regular drills, and the army given a good share of what
is called "red tape." By the last of May, or the first of June, Lee
had recruited his army, by the non-extension of all furloughs and
the return of the slightly wounded, to sixty-eight thousand. It is
astonishing what a very slight wound will cause a soldier to seek
a furlough. He naturally thinks that after the marches, danger, and
dread of battle, a little blood drawn entitles him to at least a
thirty days' furlough. It became a custom in the army for a man to
compute the length of his furlough by the extent of his wound. The
very least was thirty days, so when a soldier was asked the nature of
his wound he would reply, "only a thirty days'," or "got this time
a sixty days;" while with an arm or foot off he would say, "I got my
discharge" at such battle.
On the 27th of June Hooker was superseded by General Geo. B. Meade,
and he bent all his energies to the discipline of his great army.
General Kershaw, on his promotion to Brigadier, surrounded himself
with a staff of young men of unequalled ability, tireless, watchful,
and brave to a fault. Captain C.R. Holmes, as Assistant Adjutant
General, was promoted to that position from one of the Charleston
companies. I fear no contradiction when I say he was one of the very
best staff officers in the army, and had he been in line of promotion
his merits would have demanded recognition and a much higher position
given him. Captain W.M. Dwight, as Adjutant and Inspector General, was
also an officer of rare attainments. Cool and collected in battle,
his presence always gave encouragement and confidence to the men under
fire. He was captured at the Wilderness the 6th of May, 1864. Captain
D.A. Doby was Kershaw's Aide-de-Camp, or personal aid, and a braver,
more daring, and reckless soldier I never saw. Wherever the battle
raged fiercest, Captain Doby was sure to be in the storm center.
Riding along the line where shells were plowing up great furrows, or
the air filled with flying fragments, and bullets following like hail
from a summer cloud, Doby would give words of cheer and encouragement
to the men. It seemed at times that he lived a charmed life, so
perilous was his situation in times of battle. But the fatal volley
that laid the lamented Jenkins low, and unhorsed Longstreet at the
Wilderness, gave Doby his last long furlough, felling from his horse
dead at the feet of his illustrious chieftain. Lieutenant John Myers
was Brigade Ordnance officer, but his duties did not call him to the
firing line, thus he was debarred from sharing with his companions
their triumphs, their dangers, and their glories, the halo that will
ever surround those who followed the plume of the knightly Kershaw.
The Colonels of the different regiments were also fortunate in
their selection of Adjutants. This is one of the most important and
responsible offices in the regimental organization. The duties are
manifold, and often thankless and unappreciated. He shares more
dangers (having to go from point to point during battle to give
orders) than most of the officers, still he is cut off, by army
regulation, from promotion, the ambition and goal of all officers.
Colonel Kennedy, of the Second, appointed as his Adjutant E.E. Sill,
of Camden, while Colonel Nance, of the Third, gave the position to his
former Orderly Sergeant, Y.J. Pope, of Newberry. Colonel Aiken, of
the Seventh, appointed as Adjutant Thomas M. Childs, who was killed at
Sharpsburg. Colonel Elbert Bland then had Lieutenant John R. Carwile,
of Edgefield, to fill the position during the remainder of the
service, or until the latter was placed upon the brigade staff.
Colonel Henagan made Lieutenant Colin M. Weatherly, of Bennettsville,
S.C., Adjutant of the Eighth. All were young men of splendid physique,
energetic, courteous, and brave. They had the love and confidence of
the entire command. W.C. Hariss, Adjutant of the Third Battalion, was
from Laurens. Of the Fifteenth, both were good officers, but as they
were not with the brigade all the while, I am not able to do them
justice.
The troops of Lee were now at the zenith of their perfection and
glory. They looked upon themselves as invincible, and that no General
the North could put in the field could match our Lee. The cavalry of
Stuart and Hampton had done some remarkably good fighting, and they
were now looked upon as an indispensable arm of the service. The
cavalry of the West were considered more as raiders than fighters,
but our dismounted cavalry was depended upon with almost as much
confidence as our infantry. This was new tactics of Lee's, never
before practiced in any army of the world. In other times, where the
cavalry could not charge and strike with their sabres, they remained
simply spectators. But Lee, in time of battle, dismounted them, and
they, with their long-ranged carbines, did good and effective service.
Grant had been foiled and defeated at Vicksburg. At Holly Springs,
Chickasaw Bayou, Yazo Pass, and Millikin's Bend he had been
successfully met and defeated. The people of West Virginia, that
mountainous region of the old commonwealth, had ever been loyal to the
Union, and now formed a new State and was admitted into the Union on
the 20th of April, 1863, under the name of "West Virginia." Here it
is well to notice a strange condition of facts that prevailed over the
whole South, and that is the loyalty to the Union of all mountainous
regions. In the mountains of North Carolina, where men are noted for
their hardihood and courage, and who, once in the field, made the very
best and bravest of soldiers, they held to the Union, and looked with
suspicion upon the heresy of Secession. The same can be said of South
Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama. These men would often go
into hiding in the caves and gorges of the mountains, and defy all the
tact and strategy of the conscript officers for months, and sometimes
for years. It was not for want of courage, for they had that
in abundance, but born and reared in an atmosphere of personal
independence, they felt as free as the mountains they inhabited, and
they scorned a law that forced them to do that which was repugnant to
their ideas of personal liberty. Living in the dark recesses of the
mountains, far from the changing sentiments of their more enlightened
neighbors of the lowland, they drank in, as by inspiration with their
mother's milk, a loyalty to the general government as it had come down
to them from the days of their forefathers of the Revolution. As to
the question of slavery, they had neither kith nor kin in interest or
sentiment with that institution. As to State's rights, as long as
they were allowed to roam at will over the mountain sides, distill the
product of their valleys and mountain patches, and live undisturbed
in their glens and mountain homes, they looked upon any changes that
would effect their surroundings as innovations to be resisted to the
death. So the part that West Virginia and the mountainous regions of
the South took in the war was neither surprising to nor resented by
the people of the Confederacy.
By the middle of June Lee began to turn his eyes again to the tempting
fields of grain and army supplies of Pennsylvania and Maryland. The
Valley had been laid waste, West Virginia given up, the South was now
put to her utmost resources to furnish supplies for her vast armies.
All heavy baggage was sent to the rear, and Lee's troops began
moving by various routes up and across the river in the direction of
Culpepper Court House. But before the march began, General Lee renewed
the whole of Longstreet's Corps, and the sight of this magnificent
body of troops was both inspiring and encouraging. The corps was
formed in two columns, in a very large and level old field. The
artillery was formed on the right, and as General Lee with his staff
rode into the opening thirteen guns were fired as a salute to the
Chief. Certain officers have certain salutes. The President has, I
think, twenty-one guns, while the Commander-in-Chief has thirteen, and
so on. Wofford's Georgia regiment was on the right, then Barksdale's
Mississippi, Kershaw's South Carolina and Cobb's Georgia constituted
McLaws' division. The column wheeled by companies into line and took
up the march of review. The bands headed each brigade, and played
National airs as the troops marched by.
Barksdale had a magnificent brass band, while Kershaw had only a fife
corps headed by that prince of players, Sam Simmonds, who could get
more real music out of a fife or flute than some musicians could out
of a whole band. The music of the fife and drum, while it may not be
so accomplished, gives out more inspiring strains for the marching
soldier than any brass band. The cornet, with its accompanying pieces,
makes fine music on the stillness of the night, when soldiers are
preparing for their night's rest, but nothing gives the soldier on
the march more spirit than the fife and drum. When a company nears the
reviewing officer they give the salute by bringing their pieces from
"right shoulder" to "carry," while on the march, and from "carry" to
"present arms" when stationary. The officers raise the hilt of the
sword, grasped firmly in the right hand, till the hilt is opposite the
chin, the point of the blade extending outward about eighteen inches
from the eyes, then, with a quick movement, to the side, the point
downward and forward, and kept in this position till the reviewing
officer has passed about eighteen paces.
The army had been placed under three Lieutenant Generals: Longstreet,
with McLaw's, Hoole's and Pickett's first corps; General Ewell, with
Early's, Rhodes' and Trimble's constituting the 2d; while General A.P.
Hill commanded Anderson's, Heath's and Pendar's, the 3d. Colonel James
D. Nance commanded the 3d South Carolina, Colonel John D. Kennedy the
2d, Lieutenant Colonel Bland the 7th, Colonel Henagan the 8th.
Colonel Dessausure the 15th, and Lieutenant Colonel W.C.G. Rice the 3d
battalion, which had now been recruited by one man from each company
in the brigade, forming two new companies, and formed a battalion of
sharpshooters and skirmishers.
The great army was now ready for the ever memorable second invasion
of Maryland and Pennsylvania, which culminated in Gettysburg. The army
was never before nor afterwards under better discipline nor in better
fighting trim.
I will say here, that Colonel Aiken soon joined the brigade and took
command of his regiment until after the great battle, and then retired
permanently from active service.
On the 3d of June McLaws led off, Hood following on the 4th. Pickett
followed Hood. On the 4th and 5th Ewell broke camp and followed in
the wake of Longstreet. A.P. Hill, with 3d corps, was left at
Fredericksburg to watch the movements of the enemy. After some delay,
the enemy threatening a crossing, the 3d corps followed the other
troops, all congregating near Culpepper Court House. Reaching the Blue
Ridge mountains at Ashby's Gap on the 12th of June, at the western
base of which runs the Shenandoah, we forded the stream, it being
somewhat swollen, so much so, indeed, that men had to link hands as a
protection. The water came up under the armpits, and four men marched
abreast, holding each other by the hands. Some caught hold of horses
belonging to officers of the regimental staff. In this way we crossed
over, and took up camp in the woods beyond. The wagon trains were in
advance, and the march was slow and much impeded. Very few of the
men had divested themselves of their clothing in crossing, and
consequently when we went into quarters it was a very wet army. The
soldiers had built fires and were rinsing out their clothes, when an
order came to "fall in ranks at once." The men hastily drew on their
now thoroughly wet clothes, with all haste got into line and took up
the march back towards the river. A rumor was started "the cavalry was
pressing our rear." Kershaw's Brigade was marched back over the river,
much to their disgust, and posted on the right and left of the road
on top of the mountain. Here we were stationed all night, and being
on the watch for the enemy, no fires were allowed. Towards day a
cold mountain wind set in, and the troops suffered no little from the
chilly wind and wet clothing. At sun-up we were marched for the third
time across the river, and prepared our meals for the morning in the
quarters of the evening before. Up to this time no intimation was
given us of our destination, but while preparing our breakfast
Adjutant Pope came around with orders stating we were on our way to
Hagerstown, Md. At first some seemed to regard this as a joke, but as
Adjutant Pope was so noted for his truthfulness and lack of jesting in
business matters, we were compelled to take the matter seriously. Of
all the officers in the 3d South Carolina, Adjutant Pope, I believe,
was the most beloved. His position kept him in close contact with the
officers and men, and all had the utmost confidence in his honor and
integrity and none doubted his impartiality. He had to keep the list
of companies, to do picket duty, and detail, and he was never accused
of showing preferment to any company. He was kind and courteous to
all, and while he mingled and caroused with the men, he never forgot
his dignity nor the respect due to his superiors. Whenever a favor was
wanted, or a "friend at court" desired, he never failed to relieve and
assist the poorest private the same as the highest officer. While a
strict disciplinarian, he was indulgent to almost a fault, and was
often seen to dismount and walk with the troops and allow some tired
or sick soldier to ride his horse. Adjutant Pope and old "Doc,"
the name of his horse, were indispensable to the 3d South Carolina
regiment. The trusty old horse, like his master, survived the war and
did good service after its close.
The next day, the 13th, we took up our march in earnest. No straggling
under any circumstances was allowed. The greatest respect was to
be paid to all property, no pilfering of hen roosts, no robbery of
orchards nor burning of palings or fences along the march. Some miles
in front we struck the Staunton and Winchester turn-pike, and at
regular intervals the troops were halted for a few minutes' rest.
Occasionally the bands struck up a march and the soldiers were ordered
into line and to take up the step.
So away down the valley we marched with banners flying, bands playing
and the soldiers with a swinging step. Our march was regulated
to about eighteen miles a day. But with all the orders and strict
discipline, a great many of the soldiers who were given the name of
"Foragers" could leave camp at night and often cross the mountain into
the Luray valley, a valley, strictly speaking, laden with "milk and
honey." It had never suffered the ravages of the Shenandoah, and there
everything enticing to the appetite of the soldier was found. Before
day the forager would return with butter, bread, and often canteens
filled with pure old "Mountain Corn" or "Apple Jack." How men, after
an all day's straggling march, which is far more tiresome than an
ordinary walk, could go from ten to fifteen miles over the mountains
at night in search of something to eat or drink, is more than I could
understand.
In a day or two we heard the news of Ewell capturing Milroy at
Winchester, with 500 prisoners, and on the way a part of their troops
passed us in high glee on their way to Richmond prison. I always
noticed that the Federals, on their march to Richmond, were generally
in better spirits when being escorted by Confederates than when
commanded by their own officers with the Confederates between them and
the Southern Capital.
On the fifth day of our march we passed through Winchester, with A.P.
Hill marching parallel to us, some eight or ten miles to our right.
Ewell had pushed on to the Potomac, and was turning Washington wild
and frantic at the sight of the "Rebels" so close to their capital.
As we neared the border we could discover Union sentiment taking the
place of that of the South. Those who ever sympathized with us had to
be very cautious and circumspect. Now and then we would see a window
slowly raise in a house by the roadside, or on a hill in the
distance, and the feeble flutter of a white handkerchief told of their
Confederate proclivities. Generally the doors of all dwellings in
the extreme northern portion of Virginia, and in Maryland and
Pennsylvania, were mostly closed.
On the morning of the 25th of June we crossed the Potomac at
Williamsport. Here was shouting and yelling. Hats went into the air,
flags dipped and swayed, the bands played "Maryland, My Maryland,"
while the men sang "All Quiet on the Potomac To-night." We were now
in the enemy's country, and scarcely a shot was fired. We had
lost Stuart. "Where was he?" "Stewart has left us." These and like
expressions were heard on all sides. That bold and audacious cavalier,
in a sudden fit of adventure, or hardihood unequalled, had crossed the
Potomac in sight of the spires of Washington, almost under its very
guns, and had frightened the authorities out of their wits. Every
citizen that could possibly get out of the place was grabbing his
valuables and fleeing the city on every train. The Cabinet officers
were running hither and thither, not able to form a sensible or
rational idea. Had it been possible to have evacuated the city, that
would have been done. A Confederate prison or a hasty gibbet stared
Staunton in the face, and he was sending telegrams like lightning
over the land. Lincoln was the only one who seemingly had not lost his
head. But Stuart pushed on toward York and Carlisle, while Ewell had
carried fear and trembling to Philadelphia and Baltimore. Mead was
marching with the energy of despair to head off Lee and his victorious
troops. Longstreet halted at Chambersburg and awaited developments.
The troops lived in clover. The best of everything generally was given
freely and willingly to them. Great herds of the finest and fattest
beeves were continually being gathered together. Our broken down
artillery horses and wagon mules were replaced by Pennsylvania's
best. But in all, duly paid for in Confederate notes given by our
Commissaries and Quartermasters.
At Hagerstown, Hill's troops came up with those of Longstreet, both
moving on to Chambersburg, and there remained until the 27th.
General Lee had issued an address to the people of Maryland setting
forth the reasons and causes of his army invading their country,
offering peace and protection, and calling upon them to repair to his
standard and throw off the tyranny and oppression that were bearing
them down. He claimed to come, not as a conqueror, nor as one in
pursuit of conquest, but as a liberator. But the people seemed to be
in a state of lethargy, and to take little interest in the contest
one way or the other. Guards were placed at all homes where such
protection was asked for, and their fields of grain and orchards, as
well as their domestic possessions, were sacredly guarded.
It was the general plan of Lee not to fight an aggressive battle in
the enemy's country, but to draw the army of the North away from his
lines of communities, and fight him on the defensive at favorable
points.
Ewell had been sent on towards Carlisle and York, both those places
being promptly delivered to the Confederates by the civil authorities.
In passing through Pennsylvania, many curious characters were found
among the quaint old Quaker settlers, who viewed the army of Lee
not with "fear" or "trembling," but more in wonder and Christian
abhorrence. When the front of the column came to the line dividing
Pennsylvania and Maryland, it was met by a delegation of those
rigorously righteous old Quakers who, stepping in the middle of the
road, commanded, as in the name of God, "So far thou canst go, but
no farther." After performing this seemingly command of God, and
in accordance with their faith, a perfect abhorrence to war and
bloodshed, they returned to their homes perfectly satisfied. It is
needless to say the commander of Lee's 2d corps paid little heed to
the command of the pious Quakers.
After remaining near Chambersburg Kershaw, with the other portion of
the division, marched on to a little hamlet called Greenwood, leaving
a part of Pickett's division at Chambersburg to guard our trains.
On the 29th the troops in advance began gradually to concentrate in
the direction of Cashtown, some eight or ten miles west of Gettysburg.
Ewell was bearing down from Carlisle, A.P. Hill was moving east, while
Longstreet was moved up to Greenwood.
On the first of July A.P. Hill had met the enemy near Gettysburg, and
fought the first day's battle of that name, driving the enemy back
and through that city, part of his lines occupying the streets of
Gettysburg and extending north and around the city. The distance
intervening and the mountainous condition of the country prevented
us from hearing the roar of the guns, and little did any of us think,
while enjoying the rest in our tents, one portion of our army was in
the throes of a desperate battle. Up to this time not a word had been
heard from Stuart and his cavalry, and this seriously disturbed
the mind of our great commander. The positions of the enemy, moving
against our rear and flank, necessitated a battle or a withdrawal,
and to fight a great battle without the aid of cavalry simply seemed
preposterous. General Stuart has been greatly censured for his conduct
during these stirring times, just on the eve of this, the greatest
battle fought in modern times.
Near sundown, June 1st, we got orders to move along a dull road over
hills, mountains and valleys. We marched with elastic step, every
one feeling the time had come for active work. Early on our march we
encountered General J.E. Johnston's brigade of Early's division, that
had been left at Chambersburg, together with all of Ewell's wagon
trains. This delayed our march until it was thought all were well out
of the way. But before midnight it was overtaken again, and then the
march became slow and tedious. To walk two or three steps, and then
halt for that length of time, was anything but restful and assuring
to troops who had marched all night without sleep or rest. About three
o'clock at night, when we had reached the summit of an eminence, we
saw in the plain before us a great sea of white tents, silent and
still, with here and there a groan, or a surgeon passing from one tent
to another relieving the pain of some poor mortal who had fallen in
battle on the morning of the day before. We had come upon the field
hospital of Hill, where he had his wounded of the day before encamped.
Here we first heard of the fight in which so many brave men had
fallen, without any decided results. As we had friends and relatives
in A.P. Hill's corps, all began to make inquiries for Gregg's old
brigade. We heard with delight and animation of the grand conduct
of the banner brigade of South Carolina, "Gregg's" or McGowan's,
and listened with no little pride to the report of their desperate
struggle through the streets of Gettysburg, and to learn that the flag
in the hands of a member of a Palmetto regiment first waved over the
city. I heard here of the desperate wounding of an old friend and
school-mate, Lieutenant W.L. Leitsey, and left the ranks long enough
to hunt him up in one of the many tents to the left. I found him
severely wounded, so much so that I never met him afterwards. While
marching along at a "snail's gait" among the wagons and artillery
trains, with a long row of tents to the left, tired and worn out and
so dark that you could not distinguish objects a few feet distant, a
lone man was standing by the road side viewing, as well as he could in
the dark, the passing troops. The slowness of our march enabled me to
have a few words of conversation with him. At its end, and just as I
was passing him, I heard, or thought I heard him say, "I have a drink
in here," pointing to a tent, "if you feel like it." Reader, you may
have heard of angel's voices in times of great distress, but if ever
an angel spoke, it was at that particular moment, and to me. I was so
tired, sleepy and worn out I could scarcely stand, and a drink would
certainly be invigorating, but for fear I had not heard or understood
him clearly I had him to repeat it. In fact, so timely was it that I
felt as if I could have listened all night, so much like the voice
of a syren was it at that moment. I said "Yes! Yes!!" But just then
I thought of my friend and companion, my next Color Captain, John
W. Watts, who was just ahead of me and marching under the same
difficulties as myself. I told the man I had a friend in front who
wanted a drink worse than I did. He answered "there is enough for
two," and we went in. It was Egyptian darkness, but we found a jug and
tin cup on the table, and helped ourselves. It may have been that in
the darkness we helped ourselves too bountifully, for that morning
Watts found himself in an ambulance going to the rear. Overcome by
weariness and the potion swallowed in the dark perhaps, he lay down by
the roadside to snatch a few moments sleep, and was picked up by the
driver of the ambulance as one desperately wounded, and the driver was
playing the Good Samaritan. Just before we went into action that day,
I saw coming through an old field my lost friend, and right royally
glad was I to see him, for I was always glad when I had Watts on my
right of the colors. Our brigade lay down by the roadside to rest and
recuperate for a few hours, near Willoughby's Run, four miles from
Gettysburg.
[Illustration: R.C. Carlisle Major and Surgeon, 7th S.C. Regiment]
[Illustration: Capt. J. A, Mitchell, Co. E, 7th S.C. Regiment.]
[Illustration: Capt. D.J. Griffith, Co. C, 15th S.C. Regiment]
[Illustration: Capt. Andrew T. Harllee, Co. I, 8th S.C. Regiment.]
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