CAPTAIN GEORGE B. JOHNSTON,
_Co. G, 28th N.C. Reg't,
Branch's Brigade,
Hanover C.H., Va_.
I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G. Morrow, of
the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A third bore the
address:--
CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE,
_Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,_
_Gordonsville, Va._
More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of privates,
corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth, others of the
Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One envelope had no address.
Another gave me the name of Col. James H. Lane, but no regiment.
"Time your friend was getting back," said I.
"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd ahead of
him."
"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.
"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven or eight
hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"
"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"
"Eighty-two," he said.
The other man returned from the spring.
"Know what I heerd?" he asked.
"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.
"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina was here
summers."
"Well, maybe it is."
"I got it mighty straight."
"How did you hear it?" I asked.
"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had jest
come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from here"
"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.
"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,
"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.
"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."
My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was Branch's
command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one from Georgia,
and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed to be near by. What
more need I know? I must learn the strength of the force; I must get
corroboration. The man with whom I had talked might be wrong on some
point. I considered my friend's opinion correct concerning Branch's
purpose. The Confederate force was put here to protect the railroad.
From the envelopes I had learned that Branch's brigade had recently been
at Gordonsville; it was clear that it had left Gordonsville in order to
place itself between Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's
army at Richmond, and thus preserve communications. Branch had been
reënforced by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and
seemingly on this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that
General Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not trouble
myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
corroboration and knowledge of numbers.
The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight formality
to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek the path to the
spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be going for water all night
long, especially as there seemed little of it near by. By getting near
the spring I should also be able, perhaps, to determine the position of
the wagons; I had decided to attempt going out of these lines in the
manner of my entering them, if I could but find a wagon going
before daylight.
It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a spring
after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself by the side
of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of empty canteens and
the footsteps of a man; I started to meet him.
"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"
"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."
"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."
"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."
"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if I did;
you've hit it!"
"What regiment do you belong to?"
"Thirty-seventh."
"Is that Colonel Lane's?"
"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our colonel."
"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."
"What regiment is your'n?"
"'Eventh,"
"That's Campbell's," said he.
"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I, sitting
down while the man should fill his canteens.
"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.
"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more are
coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and is
under Branch."
"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.
"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.
"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"
"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."
"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old Twenty-eighth
is a whopper--a thousand men."
I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran down
the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade ort to have
a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with himself for
discovering something like a pun or two.
For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, with
this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I should linger
at the water, he might think my conduct strange.
Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, venturing the
remark that these two new regiments made Branch's brigade a very
big one.
"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us forever."
"Wonder where they came from," said I.
"Too hard for _me_," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; the
Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."
We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop here,"
said I.
"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
his way.
And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to stay at
one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I should be
stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the fires of the
Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and lay down. But I
found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the experience and the
danger of the situation drove sleep as far from me as the east is from
the west. I believe that in romances it is the proper thing to say that
a man in trying situations sleeps the sleep of the infant; but this is
not romance. I could not sleep.
Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself and sat
up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no conversation
with him; I was afraid he might question me too closely, and that my
replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I kept quiet; I knew
enough--too much to risk losing.
Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become aware of a
foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears were confirmed. He
opened his mouth and said, "Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance
was an assertion rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He
continued to look at me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and
went to sleep.
To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and made my
way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear. It must have
been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished feeding their
mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their teams; then, with much
shouting and rattling of harness, they moved off. I stole along beside
the second wagon for some distance, and had almost decided to climb into
it from behind when I thought that possibly some one was in it. There
seemed little danger in going out behind the wagons, especially as there
was no light of day as yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets
on the road would be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and
although, too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my plan
was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.
When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about the spot,
as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other wagons on the
preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on the left of
the road.
The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at twenty
paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution must be more
than ever my guide; now that I had information of great value, it would
not do to risk capture.
For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, intently
listening for the least sound which might convince me whether I was on
the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that I was yet in rear of
the Confederate pickets. The east was now clearly defined, so that my
course was easy to choose--a northeasterly course, which I knew was very
nearly the exact direction to the spot where I had left Jones.
At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every yard was
increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and rendering
probability greater in my favour; I surely must be already in front of
any possible picket-line.
The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going a
hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I examined
the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I saw before me a
fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal some vedette. Yet, if
it did, the sentinel should be on my side of the tree. I stood for a few
moments, intently searching it with my eyes. It was not more than
fifteen yards from me, and directly in my course. At last, seeing
nothing, I sprang quickly and was just about to lie down behind it, when
a man rose from its other side. I did not lie down. He looked at me; I
looked at him. He was unarmed. We were about eight feet apart. He began
to recoil. There was light sufficient to enable me to tell from his
dress that he was a rebel. Of course he would think me a Confederate. I
stepped over the log.
"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; "why are
you not with your regiment?"
He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the ground.
"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.