A MILITARY EXECUTION--THE PREPARATIONS--THE DEATH--HARPER'S FERRY--OLD
JOHN BROWN--CONTRAST--ADVANCE INTO VIRGINIA--CONDITION OF THE ARMY--A
DREARY RIDE--A GREEN GUARD--SEEKING SHELTER--A GUERRILLA FIGHT--MY
HORSE KILLED--PLAYING POSSUM--MY POCKETS PICKED--A NARROW
ESCAPE--RETURN TO CAMP--AN INTERESTING MEETING.
About this time one of those horrible and soul-revolting sights, a
"military execution," took place; in other words, a soldier was shot in
cold blood by his comrades. I did not witness the execution, although it
occurred within a short distance of camp, and I give the particulars
relating to it from the record of the chaplain who attended the unhappy
man to the place of execution:
"A painful episode, the first of the kind I have witnessed, took place
last Friday. It was a military execution. The person thus punished
belonged to the Third Maryland, which is in our division. On Tuesday last
his sentence was formally read to him. He was to be shot to death with
musketry on the next Friday, between the hours of noon and four in the
afternoon. He had learned the decision on the Sunday before. The day of
his execution was wet and gloomy. That morning, in the midst of the
provost guard, he was sitting on a bag of grain, leaning against a tree,
while a sentry with fixed bayonet stood behind, never turning away from
him, save as another took his place. Useless seemed the watch, for arms
and feet had been secured, though not painfully, since the sentence was
read. The captain of the guard had humanely done all he could, and it was
partly by his request that I was there. A chaplain could minister where
others would not be allowed. The rain fell silently on him; the hours of
his life were numbered, even the minutes. He was to meet death, not in the
shock and excitement of battle, not as a martyr for his country, not in
disease, but in full health, and as a criminal. I have seen many a man
die, and have tried to perform the sacred duties of my station. I never
had so painful a task as this, because of these circumstances. Willingly,
gladly, he conversed, heard and answered. While such a work is painful,
yet it has its bright side, because of the 'exceeding great and precious
promises' it is one's privilege to tell.
"When the time came for removal to the place of execution, he entered an
ambulance, the chaplain accompanying him. Next, in another ambulance, was
the coffin; before, behind, and on either side a guard. Half a mile of
this sad journey brought him within a short distance of the spot. Then
leaving the ambulance, he walked to the place selected. The rain had
ceased, the sun was shining on the dark lines of the whole division drawn
up in three sides of a hollow square. With guard in front and rear, he
passed with steady step to the open side of the square, accompanied by the
chaplain. There was a grave dug, and in front of it was his coffin. He sat
upon the coffin; his feet were reconfined, to allow of which he lifted
them voluntarily, and then his eyes were bandaged. In front of him the
firing party, of two from each regiment, were then drawn up, half held in
reserve, during which there was still a little time for words with his
chaplain.
"The General (not McClellan) stood by, and the Provost Marshal read the
sentence and shook hands with the condemned. Then a prayer was offered,
amid uncovered heads and solemn faces. A last hand-shake with the
chaplain, which he had twice requested; a few words from him to the
chaplain; a lingering pressure by the hand of the condemned, his lips
moving with a prayer-sentence which he had been taught, and on which his
thoughts had dwelt before; and he was left alone. The word of command was
immediately given. One volley, and he fell over instantly, unconscious. A
record of the wounds were made by the surgeons who immediately examined
him. The troops filed by his grave, and returned by the way they came. He
left a mother and sister, and was twenty years of age."
Soon after I spent a night at Harper's Ferry. John Brown is still
remembered there, and the soldiers go round singing "His soul goes
marching on." That medley of a song does not seem so senseless after all,
for the spirit of John Brown does seem to march along wonderfully fast,
and our troops are becoming imbued with it to a greater extent than is
generally supposed.
I also visited the court-house, where public service was held by a
Massachusetts chaplain in the very room where John Brown was tried,
convicted and sentenced. There was the spot where he had lain upon his
litter. There in front of the judge's platform were the juror's seats. The
chair which the judge had occupied was now tenanted by an abolition
preacher. Oh! if old John Brown had only lived to see that day! but he is
gone, and
His soul goes marching on.
On the 25th of October, the pontoon bridges being completed at Harper's
Ferry and at Berlin, the army once more advanced into Virginia. The ninth
corps and Pleasanton's cavalry occupied Lovettsville, a pretty little
village reminding one of New England. The army was now in admirable
condition and fine spirits, and enjoyed this march exceedingly, scarcely a
man dropping out of the ranks for any cause whatever, but entering into
the spirit of the campaign with an energy which surpassed all their former
enthusiasm. As the army marched rapidly over the country from village to
village, the advance guard driving the enemy's pickets from one covert to
another, many thrilling adventures occurred, several of which came under
my own observation, and as I am expected particularly to relate those in
which I was personally concerned, I will here relate one which came very
near being my last on this side the "river."
On the morning of the third day after we left Lovettsville I was sent back
to headquarters, which was said to be some twelve miles in the rear. I was
then with the advance guard, and when they started forward at daylight I
went to the rear. In order to go more quickly I left all my traps in an
ambulance--blankets, overcoat and grain, excepting enough to feed once.
Then starting at a brisk canter I soon lost sight of the advancing column.
I rode on mile after mile, and passed train after train, but could find no
one that could tell me where McClellan's headquarters were.
On I went in this way until noon, and then found that I was six miles from
headquarters. After riding a distance which seemed to me all of ten miles,
I at length found the place sought for. I fed my horse, attended to the
business which I had been sent to transact, and then tried to find
something in the way of rations for myself, but failed utterly. Not a
mouthful could I procure either at the sutler's headquarters, cook-house,
or in any other place. I went to two houses and they told me they had not
a mouthful in the house cooked or uncooked--but of course I believed as
much of that story as I pleased.
The day had been very cold; there had been several smart showers during my
ride, and now it began to snow--a sort of sleet which froze as fast as it
fell. This was an October day in Old Virginia. Oh! what an afternoon I
spent in the saddle on my return; hungry, wet, and shivering with cold. I
traveled as fast as my horse was able to go until ten o'clock at night,
with the hope of overtaking the troops I had left in the morning, but all
in vain, for the whole line of march and programme for the day had been
changed, in consequence of coming in contact with the enemy and having a
sharp skirmish, which resulted in our troops being nearly outflanked and
cut off from the main body of the army.
Of course I had no opportunity of knowing this that night, so on I went in
another direction from that in which the advance guard had gone. By and by
I came to some fresh troops just from the North, who had lately enlisted
and been sent down to Washington, and now were on their way to join
McClellan's army. They had been put on guard duty for the first time, and
that too without any definite orders, their officers having concluded to
remain there until the main column came up, and they scarcely knew where
they were or what orders to give their men. As I rode up, one of the
boys--for if boy he was, not more than sixteen summers had graced his
youthful brow--stepped out in the middle of the road with his musket at a
"trail arms," and there he stood till I came up close to him, and then he
did not even say "halt," but quietly told me that I could not go any
farther in that direction. Why not? Well, he didn't exactly know, but he
was put there on guard, and he supposed it was to prevent any one from
going backward or forward. Whether they have the countersign or not? Well,
he did not know how that was. I then asked him if the officer of the guard
had given him the countersign. Yes, but he did not know whether it was
right or not.
"Well," said I, "perhaps I can tell you whether it is correct; I have just
come from headquarters." He seemed to think that there could be no harm in
telling me if I had been at headquarters, so he told me without any
hesitation. Whereupon I proceeded to tell him of the impropriety of doing
so; that it was a military offense for which he could be punished
severely; and that he had no right to give the countersign to any one, not
even the general in command. Then told him how to hold his musket when he
challenged any one on his beat, and within how many paces to let them
approach him before halting them, etc. The boy received both lecture and
instructions "in the spirit of meekness," and by the time I had finished
a number of the men were standing around me eager to ask questions, and
especially if I knew to what portion of the army that particular regiment
was to be assigned.
After passing along through these green troops I rode on till I came to a
little village, which I never learned the name of, and intended to stop
there the remainder of the night; but upon learning that a band of
guerrillas occupied it, I turned aside, preferring to seek some other
place of rest. I traveled till two o'clock in the morning, when my horse
began to show signs of giving out; then I stopped at a farm-house, but not
being able to make any one hear me, I hitched my horse under cover of a
wood-shed, and taking the blanket from under the saddle, I lay down beside
him, the saddle-blanket being my only covering. The storm had ceased, but
the night was intensely cold, and the snow was about two or three inches
deep. I shall always believe that I would have perished that night, had
not my faithful horse lain down beside me, and by the heat of his
beautiful head, which he laid across my shoulders, (a thing which he
always did whenever I lay down where he could reach me,) kept me from
perishing in my wet clothes.
It will be remembered that I had started at daylight the previous morning,
and had never been out of the saddle, or fed my horse but once since I
started, and had not eaten a mouthful myself for twenty-four hours, and
had ridden all day and almost all night in the storm. In the morning my
feet and hands were so chilled that they were perfectly numb, and I could
scarcely stand. However, as soon as daylight came I started again. About a
mile from there I went into a field where the unhusked corn stood in
stacks, and fed my horse.
While employed in this manner, there came along a party of our cavalry
looking after that band of guerrillas which I had passed the night before.
It was known that they were in the neighborhood, and these men were sent
out in search of them. I told them what I knew about it, and intimated
that if I were not so hungry, I would go back with them to the village.
That objection was soon removed, by supplying me with a substantial
breakfast from their haversacks. We started for the village, and had gone
about five miles when we were suddenly surprised and fired upon by the
guerrillas. Two of our men were killed on the spot, and my horse received
three bullets. He reared and plunged before he fell, and in doing so the
saddle-girth was broken, and saddle and rider were thrown over his head. I
was thrown on the ground violently which stunned me for a moment, and my
horse soon fell beside me, his blood pouring from three wounds. Making a
desperate effort to rise, he groaned once, fell back, and throwing his
neck across my body, he saturated me from head to foot with his blood.
He died in a few minutes. I remained in that position, not daring to rise,
for our party had fled and the rebels pursued them. A very few minutes
elapsed when the guerrillas returned, and the first thing I saw was one of
the men thrusting his sabre into one of the dead men beside me. I was
lying partially on my face, so I closed my eyes and passed for dead. The
rebels evidently thought I was unworthy of their notice, for after
searching the bodies of the two dead men they rode away; but just as I was
making up my mind to crawl out from under the dead horse, I heard the
tramp of a horse's feet, and lay perfectly still and held my breath. It
was one of the same men, who had returned. Dismounting, he came up and
took hold of my feet, and partially drew me from under the horse's head,
and then examined my pockets. Fortunately, I had no official documents
with me, and very little money--not more than five dollars. After
transferring the contents of my pockets to his own, he re-mounted his
horse and rode away, without ever suspecting that the object before him
was playing possum.
[Illustration: PLAYING POSSUM.--Page 295.]
Not long after the departure of the guerrillas, our party returned with
reinforcements and pursued the rebel band. One of the men returned to camp
with me, letting me ride his horse, and walked all the way himself. The
guerrillas were captured that day, and, after searching them, my
pocket-book was found upon one of them, and was returned to me with its
contents undisturbed. It lies before me, while I write, reminding me of
that narrow escape, and of the mercy of God in sparing my unprofitable
life.
A Sov'reign Protector I have,
Unseen, yet forever at hand;
Unchangeably faithful to save,--
Almighty to rule and command.
After returning to camp, I found that I had sustained more injury by my
fall from the horse than I had realized at the time. But a broken limb
would have been borne cheerfully, if I could only have had my pet horse
again. That evening we held our weekly prayer-meeting, notwithstanding we
were on a march. Chaplain and Mrs. B., Nellie, and Dr. E. were present,
and joined heartily in singing the following hymn:
And are we yet alive,
And see each other's face?
Glory and praise to Jesus give,
For His redeeming grace.
Preserved by power divine
To full salvation here,
Again in Jesus' praise we join,
And in his sight appear.
What troubles have we seen!
What conflicts have we past!
Fightings without, and fears within,
Since we assembled last!
But out of all the Lord
Hath brought us by His love;
And still he doth his help afford,
And hides our life above.