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THE CITIZEN-SOLDIER;
OR,
MEMOIRS OF A VOLUNTEER.
BY
JOHN BEATTY.
* * * * *
CINCINNATI:
WILSTACH, BALDWIN & CO., PUBLISHERS,
NOS. 141 AND 143 RACE STREET.
1879.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by
ELLEN B. HENDERSON,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
TO MY BROTHER,
MAJOR WILLIAM GURLEY BEATTY,
WHOSE GENEROUS SACRIFICE OF HIS OWN INCLINATION AT THE
COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR, AND FAITHFUL DEVOTION
TO MY FAMILY AND BUSINESS,
ENABLED ME TO ENTER THE ARMY AND REMAIN THREE YEARS,
THIS VOLUME
IS RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
INTRODUCTORY.
In the lifetime of all who arrive at mature age, there comes a period
when a strong desire is felt to know more of the past, especially to
know more of those from whom we claim descent. Many find even their
chief pleasure in searching among parish records and local histories for
some knowledge of ancestors, who for a hundred or five hundred years
have been sleeping in the grave. Long pilgrimages are made to the Old
World for this purpose, and when the traveler discovers in the crowded
church-yard a moss-covered, crumbling stone, which bears the name he
seeks, he takes infinite pains to decipher the half-obliterated epitaph,
and finds in this often what he regards as ample remuneration for all
his trouble. How vastly greater would be his satisfaction if he could
obtain even the simplest and briefest history of those in whom he takes
so deep an interest. Who were they? How were their days spent, and
amongst what surroundings? What were their thoughts, fears, hopes, acts?
Who were their associates, and on which side of the great questions of
the day did they stand? A full or even partial answer to these queries
would possess for him an incalculable value.
So, sitting here to-night, in my little library, with wife and children
near, and by God's great kindness all in life and health, I look
forward one, two, five hundred years, and see in each succeeding
century, and possibly in each generation, so long as the name shall
last, a wonder-eyed boy, curious youth, or inquisitive old man,
exploring closets and libraries for things of the old time, stumbling
finally on this volume, which has, by the charity of the State
Librarian, still been preserved; he discovers, with quickening pulse,
that it bears his own name, and that it was written for him by one whose
body has for centuries been dust. Dull and uninteresting as it may be to
others, for him it will possess an inexpressible charm. It is his own
blood speaking to him from the shadowy and almost forgotten past. The
message may be poorly written, the matter in the main may be worthless,
and the greater events recorded may be dwarfed by more recent and
important ones, but the volume is nevertheless of absorbing interest to
him, for by it he is enabled to look into the face and heart of one of
his own kin, who lived when the Nation was young. In leaving this
unpretentious record, therefore, I seek to do simply what I would have
had my fathers do for me.
Kinsmen of the coming centuries, I bid you hail and godspeed!
COLUMBUS, _December_ 16, 1878.
* * * * *
The Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry served under two separate terms of
enlistment--the one for three months, and the other for three years.
The regiment was organized April 21, 1861, and on April 27th it was
mustered into the United States service, with the following field
officers: Isaac H. Marrow, Colonel; John Beatty, Lieutenant Colonel, and
J. Warren Keifer, Major.
The writer's record begins with the day on which his regiment entered
Virginia, June 22, 1861, and ends on January 1, 1864. He does not
undertake to present a history of the organizations with which he was
connected, nor does he attempt to describe the operations of armies. His
record consists merely of matters which came under his own observation,
and of camp gossip, rumors, trifling incidents, idle speculations, and
the numberless items, small and great, which, in one way and another,
enter into and affect the life of a soldier. In short, he has sought
simply to gather up the scraps which fell in his way, leaving to other
and more competent hands the weightier matters of the great civil war.
Many errors of opinion and of fact he might now correct, and many items
which appear unworthy of a paragraph he might now strike out, but he
prefers to leave the record as it was written, when cyclopedias could
not be consulted, nor time taken for thorough investigation.
Who can really know what an army is unless he mingles with the
individuals who compose it, and learns how they live, think, talk, and
act?
THE CITIZEN SOLDIER;
OR,
MEMOIRS OF A VOLUNTEER.
* * * * *
JUNE, 1861.
22. Arrived at Bellaire at 3 P. M. There is trouble in the neighborhood
of Grafton. Have been ordered to that place.
The Third is now on the Virginia side, and will in a few minutes take
the cars.
23. Reached Grafton at 1 P. M. All avowed secessionists have run away;
but there are, doubtless, many persons here still who sympathize with
the enemy, and who secretly inform him of all our movements.
24. Colonel Marrow and I dined with Colonel Smith, member of the
Virginia Legislature. He professes to be a Union man, but his sympathies
are evidently with the South. He feels that the South is wrong, but does
not relish the idea of Ohio troops coming upon Virginia soil to fight
Virginians. The Union sentiment here is said to be strengthening daily.
26. Arrived at Clarksburg about midnight, and remained on the cars until
morning. We are now encamped on a hillside, and for the first time my
bed is made in my own tent.
Clarksburg has apparently stood still for fifty years. Most of the
houses are old style, built by the fathers and grandfathers of the
present occupants. Here, for the first time, we find slaves, each of the
wealthier, or, rather, each of the well-to-do, families owning a few.
There are probably thirty-five hundred troops in this vicinity--the
Third, Fourth, Eighteenth, Nineteenth, and part of the Twenty-second
Ohio, one company of cavalry, and one of artillery. Rumors of skirmishes
and small fights a few miles off; but as yet the only gunpowder we have
smelled is our own.
28. At twelve o'clock to-day our battalion left Clarksburg, followed a
stream called Elk creek for eight miles, and then encamped for the
night. This is the first march on foot we have made. The country through
which we passed is extremely hilly and broken, but apparently fertile.
If the people of Western Virginia were united against us, it would be
almost impossible for our army to advance. In many places the creek on
one side, and the perpendicular banks on the other, leave a strip barely
wide enough for a wagon road.
Buckhannon, twenty miles in advance of us, is said to be in the hands of
the secession troops. To-morrow, or the day after, if they do not leave,
a battle will take place. Our men appear eager for the fray, and I pray
they may be as successful in the fight as they are anxious for one.
29. It is half-past eight o'clock, and we are still but eight miles from
Clarksburg. We were informed this morning that the secession troops had
left Buckhannon, and fallen back to their fortifications at Laurel Hill
and Rich mountain. It is said General McClellan will be here to-morrow,
and take command of the forces in person.
In enumerating the troops in this vicinity, I omitted to mention Colonel
Robert McCook's Dutch regiment, which is in camp two miles from us. The
Seventh Ohio Infantry is now at Clarksburg, and will, I think, move in
this direction to-morrow.
Provisions outside of camp are very scarce. I took breakfast with a
farmer this morning, and can say truly that I have eaten much better
meals in my life. We had coffee without sugar, short-cake without
butter, and a little salt pork, exceedingly fat. I asked him what the
charge was, and he said "Ninepence," which means one shilling. I
rejoiced his old soul by giving him two shillings.
The country people here have been grossly deceived by their political
leaders. They have been made to believe that Lincoln was elected for the
sole purpose of liberating the negro; that our army is marching into
Virginia to free their slaves, destroy their property, and murder their
families; that we, not they, have set the Constitution and laws at
defiance, and that in resisting us they are simply defending their homes
and fighting for their constitutional rights.
JULY, 1861.
2. Reached Buckhannon at 5 P. M., and encamped beside the Fourth Ohio,
in a meadow, one mile from town. The country through which we marched is
exceedingly hilly; or, perhaps, I might say mountainous. The scenery is
delightful. The road for miles is cut around great hills, and is just
wide enough for a wagon. A step to the left would send one tumbling a
hundred or two hundred feet below, and to the right the hills rise
hundreds of feet above. The hills, half way to their summits, are
covered with corn, wheat, or grass, while further up the forest is as
dense as it could well have been a hundred years ago.
3. For the first time to-day, I saw men bringing tobacco to market in
bags. One old man brought a bag of natural leaf into camp to sell to the
soldiers, price ten cents per pound. He brought it to a poor market,
however, for the men have been bankrupt for weeks, and could not buy
tobacco at a dime a bagfull.
4. The Fourth has passed off quietly in the little town of Buckhannon
and in camp.
At ten o'clock the Third and Fourth Regiments were reviewed by General
McClellan. The day was excessively warm, and the men, buttoned up in
their dress-coats, were much wearied when the parade was over.
In the court-house this evening, the soldiers had what they call a "stag
dance." Camp life to a young man who has nothing specially to tie him to
home has many attractions--abundance of company, continual excitement,
and all the fun and frolic that a thousand light-hearted boys can
devise.
To-night, in one tent, a dozen or more are singing "Dixie" at the top of
their voices. In another "The Star-Spangled Banner" is being executed so
horribly that even a secessionist ought to pity the poor tune. Stories,
cards, wrestling, boxing, racing, all these and a thousand other things
enter into a day in camp. The roving, uncertain life of a soldier has a
tendency to harden and demoralize most men. The restraints of home,
family, and society are not felt. The fact that a few hours may put them
in battle, where their lives will not be worth a fig, is forgotten. They
think a hundred times less of the perils by which they may be surrounded
than their friends do at home. They encourage and strengthen each other
to such an extent that, when exposed to danger, imminent though it be,
they do not seem to realize it.
7. On the 5th instant a scouting party, under Captain Lawson, started
for Middle Fork bridge, a point eighteen miles from camp. At eight
o'clock last night, when I brought the battalion from the drill-ground,
I found that a messenger had arrived with intelligence that Lawson had
been surrounded by a force of probably four hundred, and that, in the
engagement, one of his men had been killed and three wounded. The camp
was alive with excitement. Each company of the Third had contributed
five men to Captain Lawson's detachment, and each company, therefore,
felt a special interest in it. The messenger stated that Captain Lawson
was in great need of help, and General McClellan at once ordered four
companies of infantry and twenty mounted men to move to his assistance.
I had command of the detachment, and left camp about nine o'clock P. M.,
accompanied by a guide. The night was dark. My command moved on silently
and rapidly. After proceeding about three miles, we left the turnpike
and turned onto a narrow, broken, bad road, leading through the woods,
which we followed about eight miles, when we met Captain Lawson's
detachment on its way back. Here we removed the wounded from the farm
wagon in which they had been conveyed thus far, to an ambulance brought
with us for the purpose, countermarched, and reached our quarters about
three o'clock this morning.
I will not undertake to give the details of Captain Lawson's skirmish. I
may say, however, that the number of the enemy killed and wounded,
lacerated and torn, by Corporal Casey, was beyond all computation. Had
the rebels not succeeded in getting a covered bridge between themselves
and the invincible Irishman, he would, if we may believe his own
statement, have annihilated the whole force, and brought back the head
of their commanding officer on the point of his bayonet.
8. This morning, at seven o'clock, our tents were struck, and, with
General McClellan and staff in advance, we moved to Middle Fork bridge.
It was here that Captain Lawson's skirmish on Saturday had occurred. The
man killed had been buried by the Fourth Ohio before our arrival. Almost
every house along the road is deserted by the men, the women sometimes
remaining. The few Union men of this section have, for weeks past, been
hiding away in the hills. Now the secessionists have taken to the woods.
The utmost bitterness of feeling exists between the two. A man was found
to-day, within a half mile of this camp, with his head cut off and
entrails ripped out, probably a Union man who had been hounded down and
killed. The Dutch regiment (McCook's), when it took possession of the
bridge, had a slight skirmish with the enemy, and, I learn, killed two
men. On the day after to-morrow I apprehend the first great battle will
be fought in Western Virginia.
I ate breakfast in Buckhannon at six o'clock A. M., and now, at six
o'clock P. M. am awaiting my second meal.
The boys, I ascertain, searched one secession house on the road, and
found three guns and a small amount of ammunition. The guns were hunting
pieces, all loaded. The woman of the house was very indignant, and spoke
in disrespectful terms of the Union men of the neighborhood, whom she
suspected of instigating the search. She said she "had come from a
higher sphere than they, and would not lay down with dogs." She was an
Eastern Virginia woman, and, although poor as a church mouse, thought
herself superior to West Virginia people. As an indication of this
lady's refinement and loyalty, it is only necessary to say that a day or
two before she had displayed a secession flag made, as she very frankly
told the soldiers, of the tail of an old shirt, with J. D. and S. C. on
it, the letters standing for Jefferson Davis and the Southern
Confederacy.
Four or five thousand men are encamped here, huddled together in a
little circular valley, with high hills surrounding. A company of
cavalry is just going by my tent on the road toward Beverly, probably to
watch the front.
As we were leaving camp this morning, an officer of an Ohio regiment
rode at break-neck speed along the line, inquiring for General
McClellan, and yelling, as he passed, that four companies of the
regiment to which he belongs had been surrounded at Glendale, by twelve
hundred secessionists, under O. Jennings Wise. Our men, misapprehending
the statement, thought Buckhannon had been attacked, and were in a great
state of excitement.
The officers of General Schleich's staff were with me on to-day's march,
and the younger members, Captains Hunter and Dubois, got off whatever
poetry they had in them of a military cast. "On Linden when the sun was
low," was recited to the hills of Western Virginia in a manner that must
have touched even the stoniest of them. I could think of nothing but
"There was a sound of revelry by night," and as this was not
particularly applicable to the occasion, owing to the exceeding
brightness of the sun, and the entire absence of all revelry, I thought
best not to astonish my companions by exhibiting my knowledge of the
poets.
West Virginia hogs are the longest, lankest, boniest animals in
creation. I am reminded of this by that broth of an Irish lad, Conway,
who says, in substance, and with a broad Celtic accent, that their noses
have to be sharpened every morning to enable them to pick a living among
the rocks.
Colonel Marrow informs me that an attack is apprehended to-night. We
have sent out strong pickets. The cannon are so placed as to shoot up
the road. Our regiment is to form on the left of the turnpike, and the
Dutch regiment on the right, in case the secession forces should be bold
enough to come down on us.
9. Moved from the Middle Fork of the Buckhannon river at seven o'clock
this morning, and arrived at Roaring creek at four P. M. We came over
the hills with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war; infantry,
cavalry, artillery, and hundreds of army wagons; the whole stretching
along the mountain road for miles. The tops of the Alleghanies can now
be seen plainly. We are at the foot of Rich mountain, encamped where our
brothers of the secession order pitched their tents last night. Our
advance guard gave them a few shots and they fled precipitately to the
mountains, burning the bridge behind them. When our regiment arrived a
few shots were heard, and the bayonets and bright barrels of the
enemy's guns could be seen on the hills.
It clouded up shortly after, and before we had pitched our tents, the
clouds came over Rich mountain, settling down upon and hiding its summit
entirely. Heaven gave us a specimen of its artillery firing, and a heavy
shower fell, drenching us all completely. As I write, the sound of a
cannon comes booming over the mountain. There it goes again! Whether it
is at Phillippi or Laurel Hill, I can not tell. Certain it is that the
portion of our army advancing up the Valley river is in battle,
somewhere, and not many miles away.
We do not know the strength of our opponents, nor the character and
extent of their fortifications. These mountain passes must be ugly
things to go through when in possession of an enemy; our boys look
forward, however, to a day of battle as one of rare sport. I do not. I
endeavor to picture to myself all its terrors, so that I may not be
surprised and dumbfounded when the shock comes. Our army is probably now
making one of the most interesting chapters of American history. God
grant it may be a chapter our Northern people will not be ashamed to
read!
I am not confident of a speedy termination of the war. These people are
in the wrong, but have been made to believe they are in the right--that
we are the invaders of their hearthstones, come to conquer and destroy.
That they will fight with desperation, I have no doubt. Nature has
fortified the country for them. He is foolishly oversanguine who
predicts an easy victory over such a people, intrenched amidst mountains
and hills. I believe the war will run into a war of emancipation, and
when it ends African slavery will have ended also. It would not,
perhaps, be politic to say so, but if I had the army in my own hands, I
would take a short cut to what I am sure will be the end--commence the
work of emancipation at once, and leave every foot of soil behind me
free.
10. From the best information obtainable, we are led to believe the
mountains and hills lying between this place and Beverly are strongly
fortified and full of men. We can see a part of the enemy's
fortifications very plainly from a hill west of camp. Our regiment was
ordered to be in readiness to march, and was under arms two hours.
During this time the Dutch regiment (McCook's), the Fourth Ohio, four
pieces of artillery, one company of cavalry, with General McClellan,
marched to the front, the Dutchmen in advance. They proceeded, say a
mile, when they overhauled the enemy's pickets, and in the little
skirmish which ensued one man of McCook's regiment was shot, and two of
the enemy captured. By these prisoners it is affirmed that eight or nine
thousand men are in the hills before us, well armed, with heavy
artillery planted so as to command the road for miles. How true this is
we can not tell. Enough, however, has been learned to satisfy McClellan
that it is not advisable to attack to-day. What surprises me is that the
General should know so little about the character of the country, the
number of the enemy, and the extent of his fortifications.
During the day, Colonel Marrow, apparently under a high state of
excitement, informed me that he had just had an interview with George
(he usually speaks of General McClellan in this familiar way), that an
attack was to be made, and the Third was to lead the column. He desired
me, therefore, to get out my horse at once, take four men with me, and
search the woods in our front for a practicable road to the enemy. I
asked if General McClellan had given him any information that would aid
me in this enterprise, such as the position of the rebels, the location
of their outposts, their distance from us, and the character of the
country between our camp and theirs. He replied that George had not. It
occurred to me that four men were rather too few, if the work
contemplated was a reconnoissance, and rather too many if the service
required was simply that for which spies are usually employed. I
therefore spoke distrustingly of the proposed expedition, and questioned
the propriety of sending so small a force, so utterly without
information, upon so hazardous an enterprise, and apparently so foolish
a one. My language gave offense, and when I finally inquired what four
men I should take, the Colonel told me, rather abruptly, to take whom I
pleased, and look where I pleased. His manner, rather than his words,
indicated a doubt of my courage, and I turned from him, mounted my
horse, and started for the front, determined to obey the order to the
best of my ability, but to risk the lives of no others on what was
evidently a fool's errand. After proceeding some distance, I found that
the wagon-master was at my heels, and, together, we traced every
cow-path and mountain road we could find, and passed half a mile beyond
the enemy's outposts, and over ground visited by his scouts almost
hourly. When I returned to make my report, I was curtly informed that no
report was desired, as the plan had been changed.
A little after midnight the Colonel returned from head-quarters with
important information, which he desired to communicate to the regiment.
The men were, therefore, ordered to turn out, and came hesitatingly and
sleepily from their tents. They looked like shadows as they gathered in
the darkness about their chieftain. It was the hour when graveyards are
supposed to yawn, and the sheeted dead to walk abroad. The gallant
Colonel, with a voice in perfect accord with the solemnity of the hour,
and the funereal character of the scene, addressed us, in substance, as
follows:
"Soldiers of the Third: The assault on the enemy's works will be made in
the early morning. The Third will lead the column. The secessionists
have ten thousand men and forty rifled cannon. They are strongly
fortified. They have more men and more cannon than we have. They will
cut us to pieces. Marching to attack such an enemy, so intrenched and so
armed, is marching to a butcher-shop rather than to a battle. There is
bloody work ahead. Many of you, boys, will go out who will never come
back again."
As this speech progressed my hair began to stiffen at the roots, and a
chilly sensation like that which might ensue from the unexpected and
clammy touch of the dead, ran through me. It was hard to die so young
and so far from home. Theological questions which before had attracted
little or no attention, now came uppermost in our minds. We thought of
mothers, wives, sweethearts--of opportunities lost, and of good advice
disregarded. Some soldiers kicked together the expiring fragments of a
camp-fire, and the little blaze which sprang up revealed scores of
pallid faces. In short, we all wanted to go home.
When a boy I had read Plutarch, and knew something of the great warriors
of the old time; but I could not, for the life of me, recall an instance
wherein they had made such an address to their soldiers on the eve of
battle. It was their habit, at such a time, to speak encouragingly and
hopefully. With all due respect, therefore, for the superior rank and
wisdom of the Colonel, I plucked him by the sleeve, took him one side,
and modestly suggested that his speech had had rather a depressing
effect on the regiment, and had taken that spirit out of the boys so
necessary to enable them to do well in battle. I urged him to correct
the mistake, and speak to them hopefully. He replied that what he had
said was true, and they should know the truth.
The morning dawned; but instead of being called upon to lead the
column, we were left to the inglorious duty of guarding the camp, while
other regiments moved forward toward the enemy's line. In half an hour,
in all probability, the work of destruction will commence. I began this
memoranda on the evening of the 10th, and now close it on the morning of
the 11th.
11. At 10 A. M. we were ordered to the front; passed quite a number of
regiments on our way thither, and finally took position not far from the
enemy's works. We were now at the head of the column. A small brook
crossed the road at this point, and the thick woods concealed us from
the enemy. A few rods further on, a bend in the road gave us a good view
of the entire front of his fortifications. Major Keifer and a few other
gentlemen, in their anxiety to get more definite information in regard
to the position of the secessionists, and the extent of their works,
went up the road, and were saluted by a shot from their battery. We
expected every moment to receive an order to advance. After a time,
however, we ascertained that Rosecrans, with a brigade, was seeking the
enemy's rear by a mountain path, and we conjectured that, so soon as he
had reached it, we would be ordered to make the assault in front. It was
a dark, gloomy day, and the hours passed slowly.
Between two and three o'clock we heard shots in the rear of the
fortifications; then volleys of musketry, and the roar of artillery.
Every man sprang to his feet, assured that the moment for making the
attack had arrived. General McClellan and staff came galloping up, and a
thousand faces turned to hear the order to advance; but no order was
given. The General halted a few paces from our line, and sat on his
horse listening to the guns, apparently in doubt as to what to do; and
as he sat there with indecision stamped on every line of his
countenance, the battle grew fiercer in the enemy's rear. Every volley
could be heard distinctly. There would occasionally be a lull for a
moment, and then the uproar would break out again with increased
violence. If the enemy is too strong for us to attack, what must be the
fate of Rosecrans' four regiments, cut off from us, and struggling
against such odds? Hours passed; and as the last straggling shots and
final silence told us the battle had ended, gloom settled down on every
soldier's heart, and the belief grew strong that Rosecrans had been
defeated, and his brigade cut to pieces or captured. This belief grew to
certain conviction soon after, when we heard shout after shout go up
from the fortifications in our front.
Major Keifer with two companies had, early in the afternoon, climbed the
hill on our right to look for a position from which artillery could be
used effectively. The ground over which he moved was broken and covered
with a dense growth of trees and underbrush; finally an elevation was
discovered which commanded the enemy's camp, but before a road could be
cut, and the artillery brought up, it was too late in the day to begin
the attack.
Night came on. It was intensely dark. About nine o'clock we were ordered
to withdraw our pickets quietly and return to our old quarters. On our
way thither a rough voice cried: "Halt! Who comes there?" And a thousand
shadowy forms sprang up before us. The challenge was from Colonel Robert
McCook, and the regiment his. The scene reminded me of the one where
"That whistle garrisoned the glen
At once with full five hundred men,
As if the yawning hill to heaven
A subterranean host had given."
12. We were rejoiced this morning to hear of Rosecrans' success, and, at
the same time, not well pleased at the escape of the enemy under cover
of night. We were ordered to move, and got under way at eight o'clock.
On the road we met General Rosecrans and staff. He was jubilant, as well
he might be, and as he rode by received the congratulations of the
officers and cheers of the men.
Arriving on yesterday's battle-field, the regiment was allowed a half
hour for rest. The dead had been gathered and placed in a long trench,
which was still open. The wounded of both armies were in hospital,
receiving the attention of the surgeons. There were a few prisoners,
most of them too unwell to accompany their friends in retreat.
Soon after reaching the summit of Rich mountain, we caught glimpses of
Tygart's valley, and of Cheat mountain beyond, and before nightfall
reached Beverly and went into camp.
13. Six or eight hundred Southern troops sent in a flag of truce, and
surrendered unconditionally. They are a portion of the force which
fought Rosecrans at Rich mountain, and Morris at Laurel Hill.
We started up the Valley river at seven o'clock this morning, our
regiment in the lead. Found most of the houses deserted. Both Union men
and secessionists had fled. The Southern troops, retreating in this
direction, had frightened the people greatly, by telling them that we
shot men, ravished women, and destroyed property. When within
three-quarters of a mile of Huttonville, we were informed that forty or
fifty mounted secessionists were there. The order to double-quick was
given, and the regiment entered the village on a run. As we made a turn
in the road, we discovered a squad of cavalry retreating rapidly. The
bridge over the river had been burned, and was still smoking. Our troops
sent up a hurrah and quickened their pace, but they had already traveled
eleven miles on a light breakfast, and were not in condition to run down
cavalry. That we might not lose at least one shot at the enemy, I got an
Enfield rifle from one of the men, galloped forward, and fired at the
retreating squad. It was the best shot I could make, and I am forced to
say it was a very poor one, for no one fell. On second thought, it
occurred to me that it would have been criminal to have killed one of
these men, for his death could have had no possible effect on the result
of the war.
Huttonville is a very small place at the foot of Cheat mountain. We
halted there perhaps one hour, to await the arrival of General
McClellan; and when he came up, were ordered forward to secure a
mountain pass. It is thought fifteen hundred secessionists are a few
miles ahead, near the top of the mountain. Two Indiana regiments and one
battery are with us. More troops are probably following.
The man who owns the farm on which we are encamped is, with his family,
sleeping in the woods to-night, if, indeed, he sleeps at all.
14. The Ninth and Fourth Ohio, Fifteenth Indiana, and one company of
cavalry, started up the mountain between seven and eight o'clock. The
Colonel being unwell, I followed with the Third. Awful rumors were
afloat of fortifications and rebels at the top; but we found no
fortifications, and as for the rebels, they were scampering for Staunton
as fast as their legs could carry them.
This mountain scenery is magnificent. As we climbed the Cheat the views
were the grandest I ever looked upon. Nests of hills, appearing like
eggs of the mountain; ravines so dark that one could not guess their
depth; openings, the ends of which seemed lost in a blue mist;
broken-backed mountains, long mountains, round mountains, mountains
sloping gently to the summit; others so steep a squirrel could hardly
climb them; fatherly mountains, with their children clustered about
them, clothed in birch, pine, and cedar; mountain streams, sparkling
now in the sunlight, then dashing down into apparently fathomless
abysses.
It was a beautiful day, and the march was delightful. The road is
crooked beyond description, but very solid and smooth.
The farmer on whose premises we are encamped has returned from the
woods. He has discovered that we are not so bad as we were reported.
Most of the negroes have been left at home. Many were in camp to-day
with corn-bread, pies, and cakes to sell. Fox, my servant, went out this
afternoon and bought a basket of bread. He brought in two chickens also,
which he said were presented to him. I suspect Fox does not always tell
the truth.
16. The Fourteenth Indiana and one company of cavalry went to the summit
this morning to fortify.
The Colonel has gone to Beverly. The boys repeat his Rich mountain
speech with slight variations: "Men, there are ten thousand
secessionists in Rich mountain, with forty rifled cannon, well
fortified. There's bloody work ahead. You are going to a butcher-shop
rather than a battle. Ten thousand men and forty rifled cannon! Hostler,
you d--d scoundrel, why don't you wipe Jerome's nose?" Jerome is the
Colonel's horse, known in camp as the White Bull.
Conway, who has been detailed to attend to the Colonel's horses, is
almost as good a speech-maker as the Colonel. This, in brief, is
Conway's address to the White Bull:
"Stand still there, now, or I'll make yer stand still. Hold up yer head
there, now, or I'll make yer hold it up. Keep quiet; what the h--ll yer
'bout there, now? D--n you! do you want me to hit you a lick over the
snoot, now--do you? Are you a inviten' me to pound you over the head
with a saw-log? D--n yer ugly pictures, whoa!"
18. This afternoon, when riding down to Huttonville, I met three or four
hundred sorry-looking soldiers. They were without arms. On inquiry, I
found they were a part of the secession army, who, finding no way of
escape, had come into our lines and surrendered. They were badly
dressed, and a hard, dissolute-looking lot of men. To use the language
of one of the soldiers, they were "a milk-sickly set of fellows," and
would have died off probably without any help from us if they had been
kept in the mountains a little longer. They were on their way to
Staunton. General McClellan had very generously provided them with
provisions for three days, and wagons to carry the sick and wounded; and
so, footsore, weary, and chopfallen, they go over the hills.
An unpleasant rumor is in camp to-night, to the effect that General
Patterson has been defeated at Williamsport. This, if true, will
counterbalance our successes in Western Virginia, and make the game an
even one.
The Southern soldiers mentioned above are encamped for the night a
little over a mile from here. About dusk I walked over to their camp.
They were gathered around their fires preparing supper. Many of them
say they were deceived, and entered the service because they were led to
believe that the Northern army would confiscate their property, liberate
their slaves, and play the devil generally. As they thought this was
true, there was nothing left for them to do but to take up arms and
defend themselves.
While we were at Buckhannon, an old farmer-looking man visited us daily,
bringing tobacco, corn-bread, and cucumber pickles. This innocent old
gentleman proves to have been a spy, and obtained his reward in the loss
of a leg at Rich mountain.
19. To-day, eleven men belonging to a company of cavalry which
accompanied the Fourteenth Indiana to the Summit, were sent out on a
scouting expedition. When about ten miles from camp, on the opposite
side of the mountain, they halted, and while watering their horses were
fired upon. One man was killed and three wounded. The other seven fled.
Colonel Kimball sent out a detachment to bring in the wounded; but
whether it succeeded or not I have not heard.
A musician belonging to the Fourth Ohio, when six miles out of Beverly,
on his way to Phillippi, was fired upon and instantly killed. So goes
what little there is of war in Western Virginia.
20. The most interesting of all days in the mountains is one on which
the sky is filled with floating clouds, not hiding it entirely, but
leaving here and there patches of blue. Then the shadows shift from
place to place, as the moving clouds either let in the sunshine or
exclude it. Standing at my tent-door at eleven o'clock in the morning,
with a stiff breeze going, and the clouds on the wing, we see a peak,
now in the sunshine, then in the shadow, and the lights and shadows
chasing each other from point to point over the mountains, presenting
altogether a panorama most beautiful to look upon, and such an one as
God only can present.
I can almost believe now that men become, to some extent, like the
country in which they live. In the plain country the inhabitants learn
to traffic, come to regard money-getting as the great object in life,
and have but a dim perception of those higher emotions from which spring
the noblest acts. In a mountain country God has made many things
sublime, and some things very beautiful. The rugged, the smooth, the
sunshine, and the shadow meet one at every turn. Here are peaks getting
the earliest sunlight of the morning, and the latest of the evening;
ravines so deep the light of day can never penetrate them; bold, rugged,
perpendicular rocks, which have breasted the storms for ages; gentle
slopes, swelling away until their summits seem to dip in the blue sky;
streams, cold and clear, leaping from crag to crag, and rushing down
nobody knows whither. Like the country, may we not look to find the
people unpolished, rugged and uneven, capable of the noblest heroism or
the most infernal villainy--their lives full of lights and shadows,
elevations and depressions?
The mountains, rising one above another, suggest, forcibly enough, the
infinite power of the Creator, and when the peaks come in contact with
the clouds it requires but little imagination to make one feel that God,
as at Sinai, has set His foot upon the earth, and that earth and heaven
are really very near each other.
21. This morning, at two o'clock, I was rattled up by a sentinel, who
had come to camp in hot haste to inform me that he had seen and fired
upon a body of twenty-five or more men, probably the advance guard of
the enemy. He desired me to send two companies to strengthen the
outpost. I preferred, however, to go myself to the scene of the trouble;
and, after investigation, concluded that the guard had been alarmed by a
couple of cows.
Another lot of secession prisoners, some sixty in number, passed by this
afternoon. They were highly pleased with the manner in which they had
been treated by their captors.
The sound of a musket is just heard on the picket post, three-quarters
of a mile away, and the shot is being repeated by our line of sentinels.
* * * The whole camp has been in an uproar. Many men, half asleep,
rushed from their tents and fired off their guns in their company
grounds. Others, supposing the enemy near, became excited and discharged
theirs also. The tents were struck, Loomis' First Michigan Battery
manned, and we awaited the attack, but none was made. It was a false
alarm. Some sentinel probably halted a stump and fired, thus rousing a
thousand men from their warm beds. This is the first night alarm we have
had.
22. We hear that General Cox has been beaten on the Kanawha; that our
forces have been repulsed at Manassas Gap, and that our troops have been
unsuccessful in Missouri. I trust the greater part, if not all, of this
is untrue.
We have been expecting orders to march, but they have not come. The men
are very anxious to be moving, and when moving, strange to say, always
very anxious to stop.
23. Officers and men are low-spirited to-night. The news of yesterday
has been confirmed. Our army has been beaten at Manassas with terrible
loss. General McClellan has left Beverly for Washington. General
Rosecrans will assume command in Western Virginia. We are informed that
twenty miles from us, in the direction of Staunton, some three thousand
secessionists are in camp. We shall probably move against them.
24. The news from Manassas Junction is a little more cheering, and all
feel better to-day.
We have now a force of about four thousand men in this vicinity, and two
or three thousand at Beverly. We shall be in telegraphic communication
with the North to-morrow.
The moon is at its full to-night, and one of the most beautiful sights I
have witnessed was its rising above the mountain. First the sky lighted
up, then a halo appeared, then the edge of the moon, not bigger than a
star, then the half-moon, not semi-circular, but blazing up like a great
gaslight, and, finally, the full, round moon had climbed to the top,
and seemed to stop a moment to rest and look down on the valley.
27. The Colonel left for Ohio to-day, to be gone two weeks.
I came from the quarters of Brigadier-General Schleich a few minutes
ago. He is a three-months' brigadier, and a rampant demagogue. Schleich
said that slaves who accompanied their masters to the field, when
captured, should be sent to Cuba and sold to pay the expenses of the
war. I suggested that it would be better to take them to Canada and
liberate them, and that so soon as the Government began to sell negroes
to pay the expenses of the war I would throw up my commission and go
home. Schleich was a State Senator when the war began. He is what might
be called a tremendous little man, swears terribly, and imagines that he
thereby shows his snap. Snap, in his opinion, is indispensable to a
military man. If snap is the only thing a soldier needs, and profanity
is snap, Schleich is a second Napoleon. This General Snap will go home,
at the expiration of his three-months' term, unregretted by officers and
men. Major Hugh Ewing will return with him. Last night the Major became
thoroughly elevated, and he is not quite sober yet. He thinks, when in
his cups, that our generals are too careful of their men. "What are a
th-thousand men," said he, "when (hic) principle is at stake? Men's
lives (hic) shouldn't be thought of at such a time (hic). Amount to
nothing (hic). Our generals are too d--d slow (hic)." The Major is a man
of excellent natural capacity, the son of Hon. Thomas Ewing, of
Lancaster, and brother-in-law of W. T. Sherman, now a colonel or
brigadier-general in the army. W. T. Sherman is the brother of John
Sherman.
The news from Manassas is very bad. The disgraceful flight of our troops
will do us more injury, and is more to be regretted, than the loss of
fifty thousand men. It will impart new life, courage, and confidence to
our enemies. They will say to their troops: "You see how these
scoundrels run when you stand up to them."
29. Was slightly unwell this morning; but about noon accompanied General
Reynolds, Colonel Wagner, Colonel Heffron, and a squad of cavalry, up
the valley, and returned somewhat tired, but quite well.
Lieutenant-Colonel Owen was also of the party. He is fifty or fifty-five
years old, a thin, spare man, of very ordinary personal appearance, but
of fine scientific and literary attainments. For some years he was a
professor in a Southern military school. He has held the position of
State Geologist of Indiana, and is the son of the celebrated Robert J.
Owen, who founded the Communist Society at New Harmony, Indiana. Every
sprig, leaf, and stem on the route suggested to Colonel Owen something
to talk about, and he proved to be a very entertaining companion.
General Reynolds is a graduate of West Point, and has the theory of war
completely; but whether he has the broad, practical common sense, more
important than book knowledge, time will determine. As yet he is an
untried quantity, and, therefore, unknown.
30. About two o'clock P. M., for want of something better to do, I
climbed the high mountain in front of our camp. The side is as steep as
the roof of a gothic house. By taking hold of bushes and limbs of trees,
after a half hour of very hard work, I managed to get to the top,
completely exhausted. The outlook was magnificent. Tygart's valley, the
river winding through it, and a boundless succession of mountains and
ridges, all lay before me. My attention, however, was soon diverted from
the landscape to the huckleberries. They were abundant; and now and then
I stumbled on patches of delicious raspberries. I remained on the
mountain, resting and picking berries, until half-past four. I must be
in camp at six to post my pickets, but there was no occasion for haste.
So, after a time, I started leisurely down, not the way I had come up,
but, as I supposed, down the eastern slope, a way, apparently, not so
steep and difficult as the one by which I had ascended. I traveled on,
through vines and bushes, over fallen timber, and under great trees,
from which I could scarcely obtain a glimpse of the sky, until finally I
came to a mountain stream. I expected to find the road, not the stream,
and began to be a little uncertain as to my whereabouts. After
reflection, I concluded I would be most likely to reach camp by going up
the stream, and so started. Trees in many places had fallen across the
ravine, and my progress was neither easy nor rapid; but I pushed on as
best I could. I never knew so well before what a mountain stream was. I
scrambled over rocks and fallen trees, and through thickets of laurel,
until I was completely worn out. Lying down on the rocks, which in high
water formed part of the bed of the stream, I took a drink, looked at my
watch, and found it was half-past five. My pickets were to be posted at
six. Having but a half hour left, I started on. I could see no opening
yet. The stream twisted and turned, keeping no one general direction for
twenty rods, and hardly for twenty feet. It grew smaller, and as the
ravine narrowed the way became more difficult. Six o'clock had now come.
I could not see the sun, and only occasionally could get glimpses of the
sky. I began to realize that I was lost; but concluded finally that I
would climb the mountain again, and ascertain, if I could, in what
direction the camp lay. I have had some hard tramps, and have done some
hard work, but never labored half so hard in a whole week as I did for
one hour in getting up that mountain, pushing through vines, climbing
over logs, breaking through brush. Three or four times I lay down out of
breath, utterly exhausted, and thought I would proceed no further until
morning; but when I thought of my pickets, and reflected that General
Reynolds would not excuse a trip so foolish and untimely, I made new
efforts and pushed on. Finally I reached the summit of the mountain, but
found it not the one from which I had descended. Still higher mountains
were around me. The trees and bushes were so dense I could hardly see a
rod before me. It was now seven o'clock, an hour after the time when I
should have been in camp. I lay down, determined to remain all night;
but my clothing was so thin that I soon became chilly, and so got up and
started on again. Once I became entangled in a wilderness of grapevines
and briers, and had much difficulty in getting through them. It was now
half-past seven, and growing dark; but, fortunately, at this time, I
heard a dog bark, a good way off to the right, and, turning in that
direction, I came to a cow-path. Which end of it should I take? Either
end, I concluded, would be better than to remain where I was; so I
worked myself into a dog-trot, wound down around the side of the
mountain, and reached the road, a mile and a half south of camp, and
went to my quarters fast as my legs could carry me. I found my detail
for picket duty waiting and wondering what could so detain the officer
of the day.
31. The Fifteenth Indiana, Colonel Wagner, moved up the valley eight
miles.
The sickly months are now on us. Considerable dysentery among the men,
and many reported unfit for duty.
My limbs are stiff and sore from yesterday's exercise, but my adventure
proves to have been a lucky one. The mountain path I stumbled on was
unknown to us before, and we find, on inquiry, that it leads over the
ridges. The enemy might, by taking this path, follow it up during the
day, encamp almost within our picket lines without being discovered, and
then, under cover of night, or in the early morning, come down upon us
while we were in our beds. It will be picketed hereafter.