"The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; but your haste
Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.
On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General Morell.
"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard work.
Have you had a good rest?"
I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I had
suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.
"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you must help
me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn will come,
too, some day."
"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"
"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been fully
corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some six to ten
regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or was there last
night, and is supposed to be there now. A division of this army will
march against Branch. Now I will show you what you must do for us.
Here," pointing on the map to a road running south, along the railroad
from Hanover Court-House, "here you see the road you were on with the
wagons. At this point--a mile and a half or two miles southeast of
Hanover--is the road running down the river--the road you followed after
crossing Crump's Creek. The force which will march against Branch will
be sufficient to crush him, and we must prevent him from escaping in
the direction of Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on
his right. Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--_his_
right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into the
Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should simply drive
him toward Richmond."
"Yes, sir; I see," said I.
"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and nearer
Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a considerable
distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he has been put where
he is for the purpose of observing our right and rear until he is
reënforced. On the 23d, we occupied Mechanicsville, and our possession
of that place may have so interfered with or so threatened Branch's
plans that he will make some movement. The truth is, to be frank with
you, he is in a false position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction
at once and unite there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march
from Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want you to
understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you, and because I
think I can trust you."
"Well, General?"
"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do in a
critical moment."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our attack
should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover Court-House, and
find that the rebels have left that place and have moved further south,
we shall be attacking their left instead of their right, and they can
retreat toward Richmond. In case they have moved south, we must not
march on the Court-House; we must attack their right, wherever that may
be. Now, that is what you must do for us: find out where Branch's right
flank rests before we make the attack."
"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."
"Exactly."
"When do you march, General?"
"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You will have
to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next day."
"I can see one thing, General."
"What is that?"
"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of its moving
after I report."
"Very well; hang to it."
"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I do hang
to it."
"As much help as you want."
"Have you another man as good as Jones?"
"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"
"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be thoroughly
depended upon."
"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you want, and
anything else that you want--speak out."
"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for you,
General?"
"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of Branch!"
"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is Jones
and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be found, I want
only Jones."
"What would be your plans?"
"I should report by the third man the first information of importance;
then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang to it myself, and
report if it moves. You will need to know where Branch's right is at the
moment when you are ready to strike--not where it was an hour before."
"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be found."
"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such a man.
He might get himself caught and endanger your whole plan."
"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I must tell
you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the movement. Warren is
now at Old Church; he will march by the road that you were on yesterday,
while we march upon roads at his left. You understand?"
"Yes, General."
"Then that is all."
"May I say a word, General?"
"Yes; certainly."
"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a shorter
distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement before they
know of yours, they will almost be sure to change position."
"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed not to
attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to General
Porter again about this."
"Can I see Jones, General?"
"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"
"To-morrow morning, sir."
"At what hour?"
"After breakfast."
"Can you think of nothing else you need?"
"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."
"Nothing else?"
"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about that, but
I know that Dr. Khayme has none."
"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.
"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I could not
help him."
"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet laughing.
"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for it."
"Well, I'll send it through Jones."
"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."
"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own, or
rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."
"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there anything
about it to betray me?"
"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you have
thought of everything?"
"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind before we
start, I'll let you know."
"Be sure to do it."
Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man named Frank
were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I learned, was
chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones what we should
need, and he promised to be ready.
In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia sat
silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left wing had
crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried to start an
argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by war, but meeting no
encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is that I needed rest and
sleep. When the Doctor had had his first smoke, Lydia rose and took his
pipe from him. "We must tell Mr. Berwick good night, Father. He has work
to do to-morrow."
The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia was
right. Lydia did not laugh.
Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly refreshed.
While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in with me, Jones and
Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and we soon were off.
* * * * *
I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across the
Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and work our
way toward the Confederate right and rear.
We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far above the
place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and then took to the
woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had ascertained from the
map, was at the west of the railroad. We were now on neutral ground. The
usual order of our advance was Jones in the lead, I following him at not
more than forty yards, and Frank coming behind me at more than twice
that distance. Jones was directed to halt and ride back every time that
he should see anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have
occasion to observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he waved
his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I had pulled
up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke in front."
I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no noise,
but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees, which, he
said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was directed to
dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn what caused it.
He returned very soon, and said there was a house in a small field just
before us, and that a wide road ran in front of the house. We made a
detour and passed on.
About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the road, as
I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about halfway between
Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across the Chickahominy, and
still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of one of its branches. We
crossed the road, selecting a place where there were two sudden bends,
and looking well both ways before venturing. After crossing, I directed
Jones to take his stand near the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road
from the upper bend, while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had
made in crossing the road. We were now within less than a mile of the
Virginia Central railroad.
I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went with Jones
toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or rather as far from it
as he could be and yet see it. Then I returned to Frank and took his
place, directing him to find Jones and then occupy a position as nearly
as possible halfway between Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect
me with Jones and to care for the three horses, which were brought
together in the centre lest they should be heard. We were now in
position to observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
the night.
From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for half
the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of course, that I
could hear the trains. Rain had set in at nightfall.
About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up the road.
I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, I could make
out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a company. I concluded
that the rebels were to the north of us, that is to say, that if they
had moved at all, they were yet between us and Hanover Court-House.
After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much more
definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones. The three
of us then made north, through the woods, leading our horses. We had a
hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the trees struck our
faces. There was hardly enough light to see the trunks of the trees. At
last we reached an opening through which I feared to advance.
We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The rebels were
yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might be anywhere--might
be upon us at any moment.
Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to find
that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the north. I
returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road and continued
north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half a mile. It was now
nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods on this dark night there
was little fear of encountering any enemy; their cavalry pickets would
be in the roads.
I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles from us,
and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we ought soon to see
the light of his camp-fires.
Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us. I
directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his
horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I went forward on foot,
Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At the bottom of the hill I
found a small stream. Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and
all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the
open. At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small
pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this
thicket I saw more open ground before me. I went back, hoping to find my
comrades at the branch. As I went down the hill I heard them coming down
the opposite slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the
horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.
The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them
from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as
the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few
hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly
half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but
narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could
see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by
camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable
distance--perhaps more than a mile away.
Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the road was
only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with woods on the
other side of it, and that on our right there was nothing but a wood
which extended to a swamp.
Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they rolled
themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine bush. The
rain was pouring down.
At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our way across
the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would soon, wash out
all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved southward some
miles, increasing his distance from the Pamunkey.
We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our forces again.
Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and Frank in the centre.
We moved northward, stopping every hundred yards or so, to be certain
that our communications were intact. Jones was so near the railroad that
I began to think the train of cars I had heard running had not been on
the Central, but farther away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in
this place runs almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the
westward. In the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a
greater distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me
suspect that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for
we should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
toward the rear of the enemy's camp.
It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the railroad. We
still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad at our right at
distances varying from one hundred to three hundred yards. We ascended a
low hill, from which there might have been a good lookout but for the
rain. I used General Morell's glass, but could not make out anything
in front.
Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than half a
mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets must be very
near to us.
Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men keep a
close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness to bring me
my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the possibility of detection
and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I found at the bottom of it a small
brook flowing northeastward, and changed my course at once to suit the
stream. I went slowly and cautiously on through weeds and bushes,
sometimes wading down the stream itself, the water being already very
muddy from the rains, and at last, while bending to right and left and
up and down seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing south,
and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west side of the
railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved from Hanover
Court-House, or else that here was another body of men who had taken
position on his right.
Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the hill, and
directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to General Morell or
General Porter, who would no doubt be met advancing on the road, and
report that the enemy had taken such a position that in order to reach
his right flank it would be necessary for the Union troops to cross to
the west side of the Central railroad some miles south of Hanover
Court-House. I directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch
had really moved or had been reënforced, and to say that I should
endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
through Jones.
Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.
I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw that
all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to sentiment.
My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket, with which
I had been covered all night as a protection from the rain. I took
nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed Jones to remain where
he was, and if I should not return in one hour, to conclude that I was
entangled with the enemy, and that I could not get away in time; that he
must assume from my absence that the rebel right extended far, because
if it did not I should return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must
start to meet our advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber
himself with my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in
the day. I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before
the advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell before
dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended the situation,
and promised to follow my instructions.
Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette; he was
yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore, stretched across the
branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a gully which favoured me,
and crept to my left up the hill. At the top of the hill I entered
thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and looked and listened. Drums
could be heard toward the north, and seemingly nearer than before; I
thought I could hear the long roll, and feared that the Union advance
was already known by the Confederates.
Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very slowly.
My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in it, folded
and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was already wet. Again I
went forward slowly. Soon I saw another vedette, facing south. I
retired, and made progress rapidly through the woods to my left; then I
crawled up a long distance. I had hoped to be able to determine the
right of the enemy's pickets and then return to Jones and send him with
my report, while I should remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops
when Jones should have succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found
the pickets posted in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a
very difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a prudent
approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I would retreat
through the woods until I was out of danger; then I would go fifty or a
hundred yards to my left, and approach, again on my hands and knees
until I discovered a man, when I would retreat again, and so on
alternately. At one place I saw the picket-line itself stretching across
the top of an open hill, with the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the
hollow in front. I was compelled to go almost entirely around a field,
taking a back track for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward
again on the west side of the field.
About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped in one
respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more alert, and I
felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the line. I made
another advance, and this time continued advancing, for to my
gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in front of me. I
thought at first that it had been thrown back here, and that I was now
going along the western front.
To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went perhaps three
hundred yards without finding anything, and felt convinced that there
was no western front to the rebel line. I continued to advance eastward,
going straight toward the railroad. At length I had gone a quarter of a
mile, and had found nothing.
Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been withdrawn
while I was going around the field, and I conjectured that the
Confederates had become aware of the approach of our column, and had
retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our advancing troops.
Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
southeasterly direction.
For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be well to
state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the cavalry under
General Emory, at the head of our column, and had reported to him as
well as to General Morell; and that our column had advanced by the road
we had left, had thrown out a skirmish-line which extended beyond the
railroad, but not far enough, and had continued to advance until the
enemy were felt.
The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were of
Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning of the
battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.
At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North Carolina
under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head of Crump's
Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column, which had thus
interposed, without knowing it, between the two bodies of Confederates.
At the first warning of the Union advance, General Branch had formed his
troops facing the east and southeast, and covering the Ashcake road,
which runs in a sort of semicircle from the Hanover road to Ashland on
the west, so that the attack of the Union forces against the main body
of rebels merely forced them to give ground in the direction of Ashland.
Lane, at Taliaferro's Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did
later in the afternoon with considerable loss.
Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having moved
somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our troops. I soon
became aware of this fact by seeing straggling Confederate soldiers in
the woods in several directions; some of them seemed to be wounded.
Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this time it
was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of battle were
advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me, giving me no
attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining still, however,
but walking about in the woods in order to prevent the possibility of
being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited the issue.
Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I began to
fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.
An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a southeasterly
direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring to throw a force in
the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on nearly to Hanover
Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment, leaving Branch on their left
flank and in position to do great damage[2]. Branch attacked vigorously,
but was eventually forced back. Again men began to rush by me, and this
time some of them were in actual flight. There were many wounded;
gradually the woods were scattered over with a regiment or two, the
troops showing various degrees of disorganization, some of the companies
holding together and retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups,
were making their way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet
all in the same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
rallying-place.
[2] On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's brigade.
The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the Pamunkey, no
doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating northward. Lane
was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch for some days; the
story of his retreat and return to Branch is very interesting. [ED.]
Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I decided
quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for me to remain
an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I thought, too, that
it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out of this mass of men by
going in a northerly or southerly direction, either of which would be
taking them in line, if they could be said to have a line. I saw, of
course, that if I should simply stop--it would have been easy to play
the wounded Confederate--the Union troops would soon pick me up; but I
wanted to see where the defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly
wounded, I suppose, threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up
the gun--an Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to
me, the disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw away. I
soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my own
canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the rebels--I
became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.
No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen. The
Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon make a
stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the contagion and
ran along with running men, although I was sure that organised bodies
were now covering our rear. I had no distinct purpose except to
determine the new line.
After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of the
scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding about and
trying to make the men get into some sort of formation. Evening was
near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me the brigade would
be formed again and would make a new stand, or else retreat in better
order in the night.
I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but felt
confident that Jones would recover him.
As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at last
ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line across a
road running to the westward, which I believed, from my knowledge of the
map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this forming line I
hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make no pretence of
joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far from it. Then the
thought came to me that these disorganized battalions ware forming in
any shape they could now take--men belonging to different companies,
and even to different regiments, being side by side; so I got into line
with them.
I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a spy
might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.
The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the soldier, but
they were very bitter against some general or other unknown to me, and
equally so to them, as it appeared; he had allowed them to be defeated
when they could easily have been reënforced. From the talk which I heard
I drew the inference that there was a large force of Confederates within
supporting distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me
so greatly that I determined to remain longer with these troops--perhaps
even until the next day.
It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I could
see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road to
Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not see it;
but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still unbroken,
under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It would have been
very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time, either to the right
or to the left, into the woods--or into open ground for that matter--and
get away, but such was not now my intention.
The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while on the
march to find their respective regiments and companies. Mounted
men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying out: "Flag of
Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is behind you," and so
on, thus telling the men where to find their commands. It was really
good work, I thought. A little before midnight--or it may have been much
earlier, for I was well-nigh worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads
which I afterward knew to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond
roads about a mile and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men
could easily find their commands, and I knew that perfect organization
would be effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.
By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east for
perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first spreading
my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted almost to
exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my predecessor's
haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food, and slept soundly the
remainder of the night.
At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I found in
the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my gun and
accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three bands; the
cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single waist-belt, the
scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no bayonet. The brass plate
on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S. plate; the belt-buckle also
was Federal; both plate and buckle had been turned upside down, so that
each bore the inverted letters S U. There were a few cartridges in the
box--such cartridges as I had not seen before. I found that the rifle
was not loaded, and I allowed it to remain empty.
After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had gone. I
examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud were pointing
toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time openly in the road,
for I was as good a Confederate as need be unless I should be overtaken
by any of our own men. I considered now that this force of the enemy was
likely to establish connection at once with the main Confederate lines
near Richmond, if indeed it had not already done so, and that if I
should turn southward I should be in danger of being forced into the
ranks and questioned, so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine
if possible the left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme
left of the whole Confederate army.
In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of the
village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an hour after
sunrise placed myself in observation between the Fredericksburg railroad
and the Richmond road, which here run parallel due north and about half
a mile apart. I was facing south.
About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the rear of
my left the Richmond road full of troops marching southward. I crawled
up as near to the road as I dared, and watched them. There seemed to be
but one regiment, which was a large one. Three or four officers rode at
the head of the regiment; one, who I supposed was the colonel, was a
large, heavy-built man who sat his horse proudly[3]. The men marched at
the route step; the regiment was in fine order. In the centre were two
flags: one an ordinary Confederate battle-flag; the other an immense
blue banner, emblazoned with the silver palmetto tree. I could not tell
the number of the regiment, although by this time I had my glass fixed
on the flag. The Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed,
entered Ashland.
[3] Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina. [Ed.]
I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained in this
position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement. At nightfall I
crept up nearer to the village and found a comfortable resting-place in
an old haystack, east of the place.
The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad, with the
purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied by the
rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw three Union
soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at the same time.
One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw up my hands. They
belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry. I easily succeeded in
proving to the lieutenant in command, who soon rode up at the head of
the company, and whose name I learned was Watkins, that I was a Union
scout. The sight of General Morell's glass had its effect.
I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong force in
Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town. The
lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash into the
place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in our hands. In
the village were some stragglers who also were made prisoners. We
remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry securing much
property. There were a good many horses taken, one of which the
lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.
The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all the
country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was nothing to
hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The general told me
that they had given me up for lost, and asked what had become of me
after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my work, and he was
pleased to say that he approved of what I had done. He told me that
Jones had recovered the horse that I had abandoned.
As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering it; the
tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle; then I called
him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few words I told him of
my work, and why I had been away so long.
"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to Lydia, too,
who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded from
your battle."