AFTER THE BATTLE--SUFFERINGS OF THE WOUNDED--GENERAL BURNSIDE'S
ORDER--"STUCK IN THE MUD"--HOOKER IN COMMAND--WESTERN
CAMPAIGN--CAVALRY RECONNOISSANCE--ANOTHER DISGUISE--AGAIN IN DIXIE--A
WEDDING PARTY--IN A TRAP--REBEL CONSCRIPT--ON THE MARCH--A REBEL
CAPTAIN--A FIERCE ENGAGEMENT--AGAIN UNDER THE OLD FLAG--PAYING A DEBT
OF GRATITUDE.
After the battle of Fredericksburg the weather was very cold, and the
wounded suffered exceedingly--even after they were sent to Aquia Creek,
and other places--for they could not all be provided for and made
comfortable immediately. Our troops returned to their old camps in the
mud, and remained stationary for several weeks, notwithstanding our daily
orders were to be ready to march at a moment's notice. The unnecessary
slaughter of our men at Fredericksburg had a sad effect upon our troops,
and the tone of the northern press was truly distressing. The wailing for
the noble dead seemed wafted on every breeze, for
In the city, in the village,
In the hamlet far away,
Sit the mothers, watching, waiting,
For their soldier boys to-day.
They are coming, daily coming,
One by one, and score by score,
In their leaden casings folded,
Underneath the flag they bore.
On the twentieth of January General Burnside issued the following order to
the army, which was joyfully received; for of all places for an
encampment, that seemed to be the most inconvenient and disagreeable:
HEAD-QUARTERS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
_Camp near Falmouth, Va._, Jan. 20, 1863.
GENERAL ORDERS--No. 7.
The Commanding General announces to the Army of the Potomac that they
are about to meet the enemy once more. The late brilliant actions in
North Carolina, Tennessee and Arkansas, have divided and weakened the
enemy on the Rappahannock, and the auspicious moment seems to have
arrived to strike a great and mortal blow to the rebellion, and to
gain that decisive victory which is due to the country.
Let the gallant soldiers of so many brilliant battle-fields accomplish
this achievement, and a fame the most glorious awaits them.
The Commanding General calls for the firm and united action of
officers and men, and, under the providence of God, the Army of the
Potomac will have taken the great step towards restoring peace to the
country, and the Government to its rightful authority.
By command of MAJOR-GENERAL BURNSIDE.
LEWIS RICHMOND, _Assistant Adjutant-General_.
Soon after this order was issued a portion of the army did really
move--but the pontoons became "stuck in the mud," and the troops returned
again. In this manner the winter wore away, and a severe winter I thought
it was; for in riding a distance of two miles, in two instances, I had my
feet frozen.
General Hooker was now put in command of the Army of the Potomac, and
Burnside, with the Ninth Army Corps, ordered to the Western department.
Being desirous of leaving the Army of the Potomac, I now applied for
permission to go with the Ninth Corps, which was granted. I did not go
with the troops, however, but went to Washington first, and remained
several days; then took the cars and proceeded to Louisville, Kentucky,
and arrived there before the troops did.
The last entry in my journal, before leaving the Army of the Potomac, was
as follows: "The _weather_ department is in perfect keeping with the War
Department; its policy being to make as many changes as possible, and
every one worse than the last. May God bless the old Army of the Potomac,
and save it from total annihilation."
On the arrival of the troops at Louisville, they were sent in detachments
to different places--some to Bardstown, some to Lebanon, and others to
guard different portions of the railroad.
The third day after my arrival I went out with a reconnoitering
expedition, under command of General M. It was entirely composed of
cavalry. We rode thirty-six miles that afternoon--the roads were splendid.
When we were about twelve miles from our lines we changed our course and
struck through the woods, fording creeks and crossing swamps, which was
anything but pleasant.
After emerging from the thick undergrowth, on one occasion, we came upon
an inferior force of the enemy's cavalry; a sharp skirmish ensued, which
resulted in the capture of five prisoners from the rebel band, and
wounding several. Three of our men were slightly wounded, but we returned
to Louisville in good order, and enjoyed the luxury of a good supper at a
hotel, which is a rare thing in that city.
I took the cars the next day and went to Lebanon--dressed in one of the
rebel prisoner's clothes--and thus disguised, made another trip to
rebeldom. My business purported to be buying up butter and eggs, at the
farm-houses, for the rebel army. I passed through the lines somewhere,
without knowing it; for on coming to a little village toward evening, I
found it occupied by a strong force of rebel cavalry. The first house I
went to was filled with officers and citizens. I had stumbled upon a
wedding party, unawares. Captain Logan, a recruiting officer, had been
married that afternoon to a brilliant young widow whose husband had been
killed in the rebel army a few months before. She had discovered that
widow's weeds were not becoming to her style of beauty, so had decided to
appear once more in bridal costume, for a change.
I was questioned pretty sharply by the handsome captain in regard to the
nature of my business in that locality, but finding me an innocent,
straightforward Kentuckian, he came to the conclusion that I was all
right. But he also arrived at the conclusion that I was old enough to be
in the army, and bantered me considerably upon my want of patriotism.
The rebel soldier's clothes which I wore did not indicate any thing more
than that I was a Kentuckian--for their cavalry do not dress in any
particular uniform, for scarcely two of them dress alike--the only
uniformity being that they most generally dress in butternut color.
I tried to make my escape from that village as soon as possible, but just
as I was beginning to congratulate myself upon my good fortune, who should
confront me but Captain Logan. Said he: "See here, my lad; I think the
best thing you can do is to enlist, and join a company which is just
forming here in the village, and will leave in the morning. We are giving
a bounty to all who freely enlist, and are conscripting those who refuse.
Which do you propose to do, enlist and get the bounty, or refuse, and be
obliged to go without anything?" I replied, "I think I shall wait a few
days before I decide." "But we can't wait for you to decide," said the
captain; "the Yankees may be upon us any moment, for we are not far from
their lines, and we will leave here either to-night or in the morning
early. I will give you two hours to decide this question, and in the mean
time you must be put under guard." So saying, he marched me back with him,
and gave me in charge of the guards. In two or three hours he came for my
decision, and I told him that I had concluded to wait until I was
conscripted. "Well," said he, "you will not have long to wait for that, so
you may consider yourself a soldier of the Confederacy from this hour, and
subject to military discipline."
This seemed to me like pretty serious business, especially as I would be
required to take the oath of allegiance to the Confederate Government.
However, I did not despair, but trusted in Providence and my own ingenuity
to escape from this dilemma also; and as I was not required to take the
oath until the company was filled up, I was determined to be among the
missing ere it became necessary for me to make any professions of loyalty
to the rebel cause. I knew that if I should refuse to be sworn into the
service after I was conscripted, that in all probability my true character
would be suspected, and I would have to suffer the penalty of death--and
that, too, in the most barbarous manner.
I was glad to find that it was a company of cavalry that was being
organized, for if I could once get on a good horse there would be some
hope of my escape. There was no time to be lost, as the captain remarked,
for the Yankees might make a dash upon us at any moment; consequently a
horse and saddle was furnished me, and everything was made ready for a
start immediately. Ten o'clock came, and we had not yet started. The
captain finally concluded that, as everything seemed quiet, we would not
start until daylight.
Music and dancing was kept up all night, and it was some time after
daylight when the captain made his appearance. A few moments more and we
were trotting briskly over the country, the captain complimenting me upon
my horsemanship, and telling me how grateful I would be to him when the
war was over and the South had gained her independence, and that I would
be proud that I had been one of the soldiers of the Southern confederacy,
who had steeped my saber in Yankee blood, and driven the vandals from our
soil. "Then," said he, "you will thank me for the interest which I have
taken in you, and for the _gentle persuasives_ which I made use of to
stir up your patriotism and remind you of your duty to your country."
In this manner we had traveled about half an hour, when we suddenly
encountered a reconnoitering party of the Federals, cavalry in advance,
and infantry in the rear. A contest soon commenced; we were ordered to
advance in line, which we did, until we came within a few yards of the
Yankees.
The company advanced, but my horse suddenly became unmanageable, and it
required a second or two to bring him right again; and before I could
overtake the company and get in line the contending parties had met in a
hand to hand fight.
All were engaged, so that when I, by accident, got on the Federal side of
the line, none observed me for several minutes, except the Federal
officer, who had recognized me and signed to me to fall in next to him.
That brought me face to face with my rebel captain, to whom I owed such a
debt of gratitude. Thinking this would be a good time to cancel all
obligations in that direction, I discharged the contents of my pistol in
his face.
This act made me the center of attraction. Every rebel seemed determined
to have the pleasure of killing me first, and a simultaneous dash was made
toward me and numerous saber strokes aimed at my head. Our men with one
accord rushed between me and the enemy, and warded off the blows with
their sabers, and attacked them with such fury that they were driven back
several rods.
[Illustration: PAYING A DEBT OF GRATITUDE.--Page 316.]
The infantry now came up and deployed as skirmishers, and succeeded in
getting a position where they had a complete cross-fire on the rebels, and
poured in volley after volley until nearly half their number lay upon the
ground. Finding it useless to fight longer at such a disadvantage they
turned and fled, leaving behind them eleven killed, twenty-nine wounded,
and seventeen prisoners.
The confederate captain was wounded badly but not mortally; his handsome
face was very much disfigured, a part of his nose and nearly half of his
upper lip being shot away. I was sorry, for the graceful curve of his
mustache was sadly spoiled, and the happy bride of the previous morning
would no longer rejoice in the beauty of that manly face and exquisite
mustache of which she seemed so proud, and which had captivated her heart
ere she had been three months a widow.
Our men suffered considerable loss before the infantry came up, but
afterward scarcely lost a man. I escaped without receiving a scratch, but
my horse was badly cut across the neck with a saber, but which did not
injure him materially, only for a short time.
After burying the dead, Federal and rebel, we returned to camp with our
prisoners and wounded, and I rejoiced at having once more escaped from
the confederate lines.
I was highly commended by the commanding general for my coolness
throughout the whole affair, and was told kindly and candidly that I would
not be permitted to go out again in that vicinity, in the capacity of spy,
as I would most assuredly meet with some of those who had seen me desert
their ranks, and I would consequently be hung up to the nearest tree.
Not having any particular fancy for such an exalted position, and not at
all ambitious of having my name handed down to posterity among the list of
those who "expiated their crimes upon the gallows," I turned my attention
to more quiet and less dangerous duties.
Then sweet thoughts of home came stealing over my mind, and I exclaimed:
Adieu, dear land,
With beauty teeming,
Where first I roved a careless child;
Of thee my heart
Will e'er be dreaming--
Thy snow-clad peaks and mountains wild.
Dear land, that I cherish,
O, long may'st thou flourish!
My memory must perish
Ere I forget thee.