THE STORY OF A CANNONEER UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON

[Illustration: GENERAL "STONEWALL" JACKSON

FRONTISPIECE]

The Story of a CannoneerUnder Stonewall Jackson

IN WHICH IS TOLD THE PART TAKEN BY THEROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY IN THE ARMYOF NORTHERN VIRGINIA

BYEDWARD A. MOOREOf the Rockbridge Artillery

WITH INTRODUCTIONS BYCAPT. ROBERT E. LEE, JR. , and HON. HENRYST. GEORGE TUCKER

_Fully Illustrated by Portraits_

NEW YORK AND WASHINGTONTHE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY1907

Copyright, 1907, by

E. A. MOORE

TO MY COMRADES

OF THE

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY

CONTENTS

 PAGE

Introduction by Capt. Robert E. Lee, Jr 13

Introduction by Henry St. George Tucker 15

I--Washington College--Lexington--Virginia MilitaryInstitute 19

II--Entering the Service--My First Battle--Battle ofKernstown 25

III--The Retreat--Cedar Creek--GeneralAshby--Skirmishes--McGaheysville 34

IV--Swift Run Gap--Reorganization of the Battery--Wadingin the Mud--Crossing and Recrossing the Blue Ridge--Battleof McDowell--Return to the Valley 43

V--Bridgewater--Luray Valley--Front Royal--FollowingGeneral Banks--Night March--Battle ofWinchester--Banks's Retreat 52

VI--Capturing Federal Cavalry--Charlestown--ExtraordinaryMarch 60

VII--General Jackson Narrowly Escapes Being Capturedat Port Republic--Contest Between Confederatesand Federals for Bridge over Shenandoah 66

VIII--Battle of Port Republic 72

IX--From Brown's Gap to Staunton--From Stauntonto Richmond--Cold Harbor--General Lee VisitsHis Son in the Battery 77

X--General Jackson Compliments the Battery--MalvernHill--My Visit to Richmond 86

XI--From Richmond to Gordonsville--Battle of CedarRun--Death of General Winder--Deserters Shot--Crossthe Rappahannock 93

XII--Capture of Railroad Trains at Manassas Junction--Battlewith Taylor's New Jersey Brigade--Night March by Light ofBurning Cars 102

XIII--Circuitous Night March--First Day of SecondManassas--Arrival of Longstreet's Corps 110

XIV--The Second Battle of Manassas--Incidents andScenes on the Battlefield 117

XV--Battle of Chantilly--Leesburg--Crossing the Potomac 125

XVI--Maryland--My Day in Frederick City 130

XVII--Return to Virginia--Investment and Capture ofHarper's Ferry 138

XVIII--Into Maryland Again--Battle ofSharpsburg--Wounded--Return to Winchester--Home 144

XIX--Return to Army--In Winter-quarters Near PortRoyal 161

XX--Second Battle of Fredericksburg--Chancellorsville--Woundingand Death of Stonewall Jackson 170

XXI--Opening of Campaign of 1863--Crossing to theValley--Battle at Winchester with Milroy--Crossingthe Potomac 179

XXII--On the Way to Gettysburg--Battle ofGettysburg--Retreat. 187

XXIII--At "The Bower"--Return to Orange County, Virginia--BlueRun Church--Bristow Station--Rappahannock Bridge--SupplementingCamp Rations 202

XXIV--Battle of Mine Run--March to Frederick'sHall--Winter-quarters--Social Affairs--Again to theFront--Narrow Escape from Capture by GeneralDahlgren--Furloughs--Cadets Return fromNew Market--Spottsylvania and the Wilderness--Returnto Army at Hanover Junction--Panicat Night 212

XXV--Second Cold Harbor--Wounded--Return Home--Refugeeingfrom Hunter 222

XXVI--Personal Mention of Officers and Men--RockbridgeArtillery--Second Rockbridge Artillery 234

XXVII--Oakland--Return to Camp--Off Duty Again--TheRace from New Market to Fort Gilmore--Attackon Fort Harrison--Winter-quarterson the Lines--Visits to Richmond 260

XXVIII--Evacuation of Richmond--Passing ThroughRichmond by Night--The Retreat--Battle ofSailor's Creek--Battle of CumberlandChurch 274

XXIX--Appomattox 286

Appendix 293

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

General "Stonewall" Jackson _Frontispiece_

Captain William T. Poague, April, 1862--April, 1863 19

Gun from which was fired the first hostile cannon-shotin the Valley of Virginia 25

Robert A. Gibson 40

Edward A. Moore, March, 1862 60

John M. Brown (war-time portrait) 80

William M. Willson (Corporal) 98

W. S. McClintic 120

D. Gardiner Tyler 140

R. T. Barton 158

B. C. M. Friend 180

Edward A. Moore, February, 1907 200

Edward H. Hyde (Color-bearer) 220

Randolph Fairfax 240

Robert Frazer 260

John M. Brown 280

Fac-simile of parole signed by General Pendleton 291

PREFACE

More than thirty years ago, at the solicitation of my kinsman, H. C. McDowell, of Kentucky, I undertook to write a sketch of my warexperience. McDowell was a major in the Federal Army during the civilwar, and with eleven first cousins, including Gen. Irvin McDowell, fought against the same number of first cousins in the Confederate Army. Various interruptions prevented the completion of my work at that time. More recently, after despairing of the hope that some more capablemember of my old command, the Rockbridge Artillery, would not allow itshistory to pass into oblivion, I resumed the task, and now present thisvolume as the only published record of that company, celebrated as itwas even in that matchless body of men, the Army of Northern Virginia. 

E. A. M. 

INTRODUCTION BY CAPT. ROBERT E. LEE, JR. 

The title of this book at once rivets attention and invites perusal, andthat perusal does not disappoint expectation. The author was a cannoneerin the historic Rockbridge (Va. ) Artillery, which made for itself, fromManassas to Appomattox, a reputation second to none in the Confederateservice. No more vivid picture has been presented of the private soldierin camp, on the march, or in action. It was written evidently not withany commercial view, but was an undertaking from a conviction that itsperformance was a question of duty to his comrades. Its unlabored andspontaneous character adds to its value. Its detail is evidence of aliving presence, intent only upon truth. It is not only carefullyplanned, but minutely finished. The duty has been performed faithfullyand entertainingly. 

We are glad these delightful pages have not been marred by discussion ofthe causes or conduct of the great struggle between the States. There isno theorizing or special pleading to distract our attention from theunvarnished story of the Confederate soldier. 

The writer is simple, impressive, and sincere. And his memory is notless faithful. It is a striking and truthful portrayal of the timesunder the standard of one of the greatest generals of ancient or moderntimes. It is from such books that data will be gathered by the futurehistorian for a true story of the great conflict between the States. 

For nearly a year (from March to November, 1862) I served in the batterywith this cannoneer, and for a time we were in the same mess. Since thewar I have known him intimately, and it gives me great pleasure to beable to say that there is no one who could give a more honest andtruthful account of the events of our struggle from the standpoint of aprivate soldier. He had exceptional opportunities for observing men andevents, and has taken full advantage of them. 

ROBERT E. LEE. 

INTRODUCTION BY HENRY ST. GEORGE TUCKER

Between 1740 and 1750 nine brothers by the name of Moore emigrated fromthe north of Ireland to America. Several of them settled in SouthCarolina, and of these quite a number participated in the RevolutionaryWar, several being killed in battle. One of the nine brothers, David byname, came to Virginia and settled in the "Borden Grant, " now thenorthern part of Rockbridge County. There, in 1752, his son, afterwardknown as Gen. Andrew Moore, was born. His mother was a Miss Evans, ofWelsh ancestry. Andrew Moore was educated at an academy afterward knownas Liberty Hall. In early life with some of his companions he made avoyage to the West Indies; was shipwrecked, but rescued, after manyhardships, by a passing vessel and returned to the Colonies. Upon hisreturn home he studied law in the office of Chancellor Wythe, atWilliamsburg, and was licensed to practice law in 1774. In 1776 heentered the army as lieutenant, in Morgan's Riflemen, and was engaged inthose battles which resulted in the capture of Burgoyne's army, and atthe surrender of the British forces at Saratoga. For courage andgallantry in battle he was promoted to a captaincy. Having served threeyears with Morgan, he returned home and took his seat as a member of theVirginia legislature, taking such an active and distinguished part inthe deliberations of that body that he was elected to Congress, and as amember of the first House of Representatives was distinguished for hisservices to such a degree that he was re-elected at each succeedingelection until 1797, when he declined further service in that body, butaccepted a seat in the Virginia House of Delegates. He was again electedto Congress in 1804, but in the first year of his service he was electedto the United States Senate, in which body he served with distinguishedability until 1809, when he retired. He was then appointed United StatesMarshal for the District of Virginia, which office he held until hisdeath, April 14, 1821. His brother William served as a soldier in theIndian wars, and the Revolutionary War. He was a lieutenant of riflemenat Pt. Pleasant, and carried his captain, who had been severely wounded, from the field of battle, after killing the Indian who was about toscalp him--a feat of courage and strength rarely equaled. Gen. AndrewMoore's wife was Miss Sarah Reid, a descendant of Capt. John McDowell, who was killed by the Indians, December 18, 1842, on James River, inRockbridge County. She was the daughter of Capt. Andrew Reid, a soldierof the French and Indian War. 

Our author's father was Capt. David E. Moore, for twenty-three years theAttorney for the Commonwealth for Rockbridge County, and a member ofthe Constitutional Convention, 1850-51. His mother was Miss ElizabethHarvey, a descendant of Benjamin Borden, and daughter of Matthew Harvey, who at sixteen years of age ran away from home and became a member of"Lee's Legion, " participating in the numerous battles in which thatdistinguished corps took part. 

Thus it will be seen that our author is of _martial stock_ and a worthydescendant of those who never failed to respond to the call to arms; theyoungest of four brothers, one of whom surrendered under GeneralJohnston, the other three at Appomattox, after serving throughout thewar. It is safe to say that Virginia furnished to the Confederateservice no finer examples of true valor than our author and his threebrothers. 

 HENRY ST. GEORGE TUCKER. Lexington, Va. , December 20, 1906. 

[Illustration: CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. POAGUE

(April, 1862--April, 1863)]

THE STORY OF A CANNONEER UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON

CHAPTER I

WASHINGTON COLLEGE--LEXINGTON--VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE

At the age of eighteen I was a member of the Junior Class at WashingtonCollege at Lexington, Virginia, during the session of 1860-61, and withthe rest of the students was more interested in the foreshadowings ofthat ominous period than in the teachings of the professors. Among ournumber there were a few from the States farther south who seemed to havebeen born secessionists, while a large majority of the students weredecidedly in favor of the Union. 

Our president, the Rev. Dr. George Junkin, who hailed from the North, was heart and soul a Union man, notwithstanding the fact that one of hisdaughters was the first wife of Major Thomas J. Jackson, who developedinto the world-renowned "Stonewall" Jackson. Another daughter was thegreat Southern poetess, Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, and Dr. Junkin's son, Rev. W. F. Junkin, a most lovable man, became an ardent Southernsoldier and a chaplain in the Confederate Army throughout the war. 

At the anniversary of the Washington Literary Society, on February 22, 1861, the right of secession was attacked and defended by theparticipants in the discussion, with no less zeal than they afterwarddisplayed on many bloody battlefields. 

We had as a near neighbor the Virginia Military Institute, "The WestPoint of the South, " where scores of her young chivalry were assembled, who were eager to put into practice the subjects taught in their school. Previous to these exciting times not the most kindly feelings, and butlittle intercourse had existed between the two bodies of young men. Thesecession element in the College, however, finding more congenialcompany among the cadets, opened up the way for quite intimate andfriendly relations between the two institutions. In January, 1861, thecorps of cadets had been ordered by Governor Wise to be present, as amilitary guard, at the execution of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Aftertheir return more than the usual time was given to the drill; andtarget-shooting with cannon and small arms was daily practised in ourhearing. 

Only a small proportion of the citizens of the community favoredsecession, but they were very aggressive. One afternoon, while a hugeUnion flag-pole was being raised on the street, which when half-way upsnapped and fell to the ground in pieces, I witnessed a personalencounter between a cadet and a mechanic (the latter afterward desertedfrom our battery during the Gettysburg campaign in Pennsylvania, hisnative State), which was promptly taken up by their respective friends. The cadets who were present hastened to their barracks and, joined bytheir comrades, armed themselves, and with fixed bayonets came streamingat double-quick toward the town. They were met at the end of Main streetby their professors, conspicuous among whom was Colonel Colston onhorseback. He was a native of France and professor of French at theInstitute; he became a major-general in the Confederate Army and later ageneral in the Egyptian Army. After considerable persuasion the cadetswere induced to return to their barracks. 

Instead of the usual Saturday night debates of the College literarysocieties, the students either joined the cadets in their barracks atthe Institute or received them at the College halls to harangue on theone absorbing topic. 

On the top of the main building at the College was a statue ofWashington, and over this statue some of the students hoisted a palmettoflag. This greatly incensed our president. He tried, for some time, butin vain, to have the flag torn down. When my class went at the usualhour to his room to recite, and before we had taken our seats, heinquired if the flag was still flying. On being told that it was, hesaid, "The class is dismissed; I will never hear a recitation under atraitor's flag!" And away we went. 

Lincoln's proclamation calling for 75, 000 men from Virginia, to whip inthe seceded States, was immediately followed by the ordinance ofsecession, and the idea of union was abandoned by all. Recitation-bellsno longer sounded; our books were left to gather dust, and forgotten, save only to recall those scenes that filled our minds with the mightydeeds and prowess of such characters as the "Ruling Agamemnon" and hiswarlike cohorts, and we could almost hear "the terrible clang ofstriking spears against shields, as it resounded throughout the army. "

There was much that seems ludicrous as we recall it now. The youths ofthe community, imbued with the idea that "cold steel" would play animportant part in the conflict, provided themselves with hugebowie-knives, fashioned by our home blacksmith, and with these fierceweapons swinging from their belts were much in evidence. There werealready several organized military companies in the county. TheRockbridge Rifles, and a company of cavalry left Lexington April 17, under orders from Governor John Letcher, our townsman, who had just beeninaugurated Governor of Virginia, to report at Harper's Ferry. Thecavalry company endeavored to make the journey without a halt, and didmarch the first sixty-four miles in twenty-four hours. 

The students formed a company with J. J. White, professor of Greek, astheir captain. Drilling was the occupation of the day; the studentshaving excellent instructors in the cadets and their professors. Ouroutraged president had set out alone in his private carriage for hisformer home in the North. 

Many of the cadets were called away as drillmasters at camps establishedin different parts of the South, and later became distinguished officersin the Confederate Army, as did also a large number of the older alumniof the Institute. 

The Rockbridge Artillery Company was organized about this time, and, after a fortnight's drilling with the cadets' battery, was ordered tothe front, under command of Rev. W. N. Pendleton, rector of theEpiscopal Church, and a graduate of West Point, as captain. 

The cadets received marching orders, and on that morning, for the firsttime since his residence in Lexington, Major Jackson was seen in hiselement. As a professor at the Virginia Military Institute he wasremarkable only for strict punctuality and discipline. I, with one of mybrothers, had been assigned to his class in Sunday-school, where hisregular attendance and earnest manner were equally striking. 

It was on a beautiful Sunday morning in May that the cadets receivedorders to move, and I remember how we were all astonished to see theChristian major, galloping to and fro on a spirited horse, preparing fortheir departure. 

In the arsenal at the Institute were large stores of firearms of oldpatterns, which were hauled away from time to time to supply the troops. I, with five others of the College company, was detailed as a guard to aconvoy of Wagons, loaded with these arms, as far as Staunton. We wereall about the same size, and with one exception members of the sameclass. In the first battle of Manassas four of the five--Charles Bell, William Wilson, William Paxton and Benjamin Bradley--were killed, andWilliam Anderson, now Attorney-General of Virginia, was maimed for life. 

There was great opposition on the part of the friends of the students totheir going into the service, at any rate in one body, but they grewmore and more impatient to be ordered out, and felt decidedly offendedat the delay. 

Finally, in June, the long-hoped-for orders came. The town was filledwith people from far and near, and every one present, old and young, white and black, not only shed tears, but actually sobbed. My father hadpositively forbidden my going, as his other three sons, older thanmyself, were already in the field. After this my time was chieflyoccupied in drilling militia in different parts of the country. And I amreminded to this day by my friends the daughters of General Pendleton ofmy apprehensions "lest the war should be over before I should get atrip. "

[Illustration: GUN FROM WHICH WAS FIRED THE FIRST HOSTILE CANNON-SHOT INTHE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA]

CHAPTER II

ENTERING THE SERVICE--MY FIRST BATTLE--BATTLE OF KERNSTOWN

Jackson's first engagement took place at Hainesville, near Martinsburg, on July 2, one of the Rockbridge Artillery guns firing the first hostilecannon-shot fired in the Valley of Virginia. This gun is now in thepossession of the Virginia Military Institute, and my brother Davidfired the shot. Before we knew that Jackson was out of the Valley, newscame of the battle of First Manassas, in which General Bee conferredupon him and his brigade the soubriquet of "Stonewall, " and by so doinglikened himself to "Homer, who immortalized the victory won byAchilles. "

In this battle the Rockbridge Artillery did splendid execution withoutlosing a man, while the infantry in their rear, and for their support, suffered dreadfully. The College company alone (now Company I of theFourth Virginia Regiment) lost seven killed and many wounded. 

In August it was reported that a force of Federal cavalry was near theWhite Sulphur Springs, on their way to Lexington. Numbers of men fromthe hills and mountains around gathered at Collierstown, a stragglingvillage in the western portion of the county, and I spent the greaterpart of the night drilling them in the town-hall, getting news from timeto time from the pickets in the mountain-pass. The prospect of meetingso formidable a band had doubtless kept the Federals from evencontemplating such an expedition. 

The winter passed drearily along, the armies in all directions havingonly mud to contend with. 

Since my failure to leave with the College company it had been myintention to join it the first opportunity; but, hearing it would bedisbanded in the spring, I enlisted in the Rockbridge Artillery attachedto the Stonewall Brigade, and with about fifty other recruits leftLexington March 10, 1862, to join Jackson, then about thirty miles southof Winchester. Some of us traveled on horseback, and some in farm-wagonssecured for the purpose. We did not create the sensation we hadanticipated, either on leaving Lexington or along the road; still we hadplenty of fun. I remember one of the party--a fellow with a very largechin, as well as cheek--riding up close to a house by the roadside inthe door of which stood a woman with a number of children around her, and, taking off his hat, said, "God bless you, madam! May you raise manyfor the Southern Confederacy. "

We spent Saturday afternoon and night in Staunton, and were quartered ina hotel kept by a sour-looking old Frenchman. We were given anabominable supper, the hash especially being a most mysterious-lookingdish. After retiring to our blankets on the floor, I heard two of theparty, who had substituted something to drink for something to eat, discussing the situation generally, and, among other things, surmisingas to the ingredients of the supper's hash, when Winn said, "Bob, Ianalyzed that hash. It was made of buttermilk, dried apples, damsons andwool!"

The following day, Sunday, was clear and beautiful. We had about seventymiles to travel along the Valley turnpike. In passing a statelyresidence, on the porch of which the family had assembled, one of ourparty raised his hat in salutation. Not a member of the family took theleast notice of the civility; but a negro girl, who was sweeping off thepavement in front, flourished her broom around her head mostenthusiastically, which raised a general shout. 

We arrived at Camp Buchanan, a few miles below Mount Jackson, on Mondayafternoon. I then, for the first time since April, 1861, saw my brotherJohn. How tough and brown he looked! He had been transferred to theRockbridge Artillery shortly before the first battle of Manassas, andwith my brother David belonged to a mess of as interesting young men asI ever knew. Some of them I have not seen for more than forty years. Mentioning their names may serve to recall incidents connected withthem: My two brothers, both graduates of Washington College; BerkeleyMinor, a student at the University of Virginia, a perfect bookworm;Alex. Boteler, student of the University of Virginia, son of Hon. Alex. Boteler, of West Virginia, and his two cousins, Henry and CharlesBoteler, of Shepherdstown, West Virginia; Thompson and Magruder Maury, both clergymen after the war; Joe Shaner, of Lexington, Virginia, askind a friend as I ever had, and who carried my blanket for me on hisoff-horse at least one thousand miles; John M. Gregory, of Charles CityCounty, an A. M. Of the University of Virginia. How distinctly I recallhis large, well-developed head, fair skin and clear blue eyes; and hisvoice is as familiar to me as if I had heard it yesterday. Then thebrothers, Walter and Joe Packard, of the neighborhood of Alexandria, Virginia, sons of the Rev. Dr. Packard, of the Theological Seminary, andboth graduates of colleges; Frank Preston, of Lexington, graduate ofWashington College, who died soon after the war while professor of Greekat William and Mary College, a whole-souled and most companionablefellow; William Bolling, of Fauquier County, student of University ofVirginia; Frank Singleton, of Kentucky, student of University ofVirginia, whom William Williamson, another member of the mess and agraduate of Washington College, pronounced "always a gentleman. "Williamson was quite deaf, and Singleton always, in the gentlest andmost patient way, would repeat for his benefit anything he failed tohear. Last, and most interesting of all, was George Bedinger, ofShepherdstown, a student of the University of Virginia. 

There were men in the company from almost every State in the South, andseveral from Northern States. Among the latter were two sons ofCommodore Porter, of the United States Navy, one of whom went by thename of "Porter-he, " from his having gone with Sergeant Paxton to visitsome young ladies, and, on their return, being asked how they hadenjoyed their visit, the sergeant said, "Oh, splendidly! and Porter, hewere very much elated. "

Soon after my arrival supper was ready, and I joined the mess in myfirst meal in camp, and was astonished to see how they relished fatbacon, "flap-jacks" and strong black coffee in big tin cups. The companywas abundantly supplied with first-rate tents, many of them capturedfrom the enemy, and everybody seemed to be perfectly at home and happy. 

I bunked with my brother John, but there was no sleep for me that firstnight. There were just enough cornstalks under me for each to bedistinctly felt, and the ground between was exceedingly cold. Weremained in this camp until the following Friday, when orders came tomove. 

We first marched about three miles south, or up the Valley, thencountermarched, going about twenty miles, and on Saturday twelve milesfarther, which brought us, I thought, and it seemed to be the generalimpression, in rather close proximity to the enemy. There having beenonly a few skirmishes since Manassas in July, 1861, none of us dreamedof a battle; but very soon a cannon boomed two or three miles ahead, then another and another. The boys said, "That's Chew's battery, underAshby. "

Pretty soon Chew's battery was answered, and for the first time I sawand heard a shell burst, high in the air, leaving a little cloud ofwhite smoke. On we moved, halting frequently, as the troops were beingdeployed in line of battle. Our battery turned out of the pike and wehad not heard a shot for half an hour. In front of us lay a stretch ofhalf a mile of level, open ground and beyond this a wooded hill, forwhich we seemed to be making. When half-way across the low ground, as Iwas walking by my gun, talking to a comrade at my side, a shell burstwith a terrible crash--it seemed to me almost on my head. The concussionknocked me to my knees, and my comrade sprawling on the ground. We thenbegan to feel that we were "going in, " and a most weakening effect ithad on the stomach. 

I recall distinctly the sad, solemn feeling produced by seeing theambulances brought up to the front; it was entirely too suggestive. Soonwe reached the woods and were ascending the hill along a little ravine, for a position, when a solid shot broke the trunnions of one of theguns, thus disabling it; then another, nearly spent, struck a tree abouthalf-way up and fell nearby. Just after we got to the top of the hill, and within fifty or one hundred yards of the position we were to take, ashell struck the off-wheel horse of my gun and burst. The horse was tornto pieces, and the pieces thrown in every direction. The saddle-horsewas also horribly mangled, the driver's leg was cut off, as was also thefoot of a man who was walking alongside. Both men died that night. Awhite horse working in the lead looked more like a bay after thecatastrophe. To one who had been in the army but five days, and but fiveminutes under fire, this seemed an awful introduction. 

The other guns of the battery had gotten into position before we hadcleared up the wreck of our team and put in two new horses. As soon asthis was done we pulled up to where the other guns were firing, andpassed by a member of the company, John Wallace, horribly torn by ashell, but still alive. On reaching the crest of the hill, which wasclear, open ground, we got a full view of the enemy's batteries on thehills opposite. 

In the woods on our left, and a few hundred yards distant, the infantrywere hotly engaged, the small arms keeping up an incessant roar. Neitherside seemed to move an inch. From about the Federal batteries in frontof us came regiment after regiment of their infantry, marching in lineof battle, with the Stars and Stripes flying, to join in the attack onour infantry, who were not being reinforced at all, as everything butthe Fifth Virginia had been engaged from the first. We did some fineshooting at their advancing infantry, their batteries having almostquit firing. The battle had now continued for two or three hours. Now, for the first time, I heard the keen whistle of the Minie-ball. Ourinfantry was being driven back and the Federals were in close pursuit. 

Seeing the day was lost, we were ordered to limber up and leave. Justthen a large force of the enemy came in sight in the woods on our left. The gunner of the piece nearest them had his piece loaded with canister, and fired the charge into their ranks as they crowded through a narrowopening in a stone fence. One of the guns of the battery, having severalof its horses killed, fell into the hands of the enemy. About this timethe Fifth Virginia Regiment, which, through some misunderstanding oforders, had not been engaged, arrived on the crest of the hill, and Iheard General Jackson, as he rode to their front, direct the men to formin line and check the enemy. But everything else was now in fullretreat, with Minie-balls to remind us that it would not do to stop. Running back through the woods, I passed close by John Wallace as he laydying. Night came on opportunely and put an end to the pursuit, and tothe taking of prisoners, though we lost several hundred men. I afterwardheard Capt. George Junkin, nephew of the Northern college president, General Jackson's adjutant, say that he had the exact number of menengaged on our side, and that there were 2, 700 in the battle. Theenemy's official report gave their number as 8, 000. Jackson had GeneralGarnett, of the Stonewall Brigade, suspended from office for notbringing up the Fifth Regiment in time. 

It was dusk when I again found myself on the turnpike, and I followedthe few indistinct moving figures in the direction of safety. I stoppedfor a few minutes near a camp-fire, in a piece of woods, where ourinfantry halted, and I remember hearing the colored cook of one of theirmesses asking in piteous tones, over and over again, "Marse George, where's Marse Charles?" No answer was made, but the sorrowful face ofthe one interrogated was response enough. I got back to the village ofNewtown, about three miles from the battlefield, where I joined severalmembers of the battery at a hospitable house. Here we were kindlysupplied with food, and, as the house was full, were allowed to sleepsoundly on the floor. This battle was known as Kernstown. 

CHAPTER III

THE RETREAT--CEDAR CREEK--GENERAL ASHBY--SKIRMISHES--McGAHEYSVILLE

The next dawn brought a raw, gloomy Sunday. We found the battery a mileor two from the battlefield, where we lay all day, thinking, of course, the enemy would follow up their victory; but this they showed noinclination to do. On Monday we moved a mile or more toward our oldcamp--Buchanan. On Tuesday, about noon, we reached Cedar Creek, thescene of one of General Early's battles more than two years afterward, 1864. The creek ran through a narrow defile, and, the bridge having beenburned, we crossed in single file, on the charred timbers, stillclinging together and resting on the surface of the water. Just here, for the first time since Kernstown, the Federal cavalry attacked therear of our column, and the news and commotion reached my part of theline when I was half-across the stream. The man immediately in front ofme, being in too much of a hurry to follow the file on thebridge-planks, jumped frantically into the stream. He was fished out ofthe cold waters, shoulder deep, on the bayonets of the infantry on thetimbers. 

We found our wagons awaiting us on top of a high hill beyond, and wentinto camp about noon, to get up a whole meal, to which we thought wecould do full justice. But, alas! alas! About the time the beans weredone, and each had his share in a tin plate or cup, "bang!" went acannon on the opposite hill, and the shell screamed over our heads. Mygun being a rifled piece, was ordered to hitch up and go into position, and my appetite was gone. Turning to my brother, I said, "John, I don'twant these beans!" My friend Bedinger gave me a home-made biscuit, whichI ate as I followed the gun. We moved out and across the road with twoguns, and took position one hundred yards nearer the enemy. The gunswere unlimbered and loaded just in time to fire at a column of theenemy's cavalry which had started down the opposite hill at a gallop. The guns were discharged simultaneously, and the two shells burst in thehead of their column, and by the time the smoke and dust had cleared upthat squadron of cavalry was invisible. This check gave the wagons andtroops time to get in marching order, and after firing a few more roundswe followed. 

As we drove into the road again, I saw several infantrymen lyinghorribly torn by shells, and the clothes of one of them on fire. Iafterward heard amusing accounts of the exit of the rest of the companyfrom this camp. Quartermaster "John D. " had his teams at a full trot, with the steam flying from the still hot camp-kettles as they rocked toand fro on the tops of the wagons. In a day or two we were again in CampBuchanan, and pitched our tents on their old sites and kindled our fireswith the old embers. Here more additions were made to the company, amongthem R. E. Lee, Jr. , son of the General; Arthur A. Robinson, ofBaltimore, and Edward Hyde, of Alexandria. After a few nights' rest andone or two square meals everything was as gay as ever. 

An hour or two each day was spent in going through the artillery manual. Every morning we heard the strong, clear voice of an infantry officerdrilling his men, which I learned was the voice of our cousin, JamesAllen, colonel of the Second Virginia Regiment. He was at least half amile distant. About the fourth or fifth day after our return to camp wewere ordered out to meet the enemy, and moved a few miles in theirdirection, but were relieved on learning that it was a false alarm, andcountermarched to the same camp. When we went to the wagons for ourcooking utensils, etc. , my heavy double blanket, brought from home, hadbeen lost, which made the ground seem colder and the stalks rougher. With me the nights, until bedtime, were pleasant enough. There were somegood voices in the company, two or three in our mess; Bedinger and hiscousin, Alec Boteler, both sang well, but Boteler stammered badly whentalking, and Bedinger kept him in a rage half the time mocking him, frequently advising him to go back home and learn to talk. Still theywere bedfellows and devoted friends. I feel as if I could hear Bedingernow, as he shifted around the fire, to keep out of the smoke, singing:

 "Though the world may call me gay, yet my feelings I smother, For thou art the cause of this anguish--my mother. "

 * * * * *

A thing that I was very slow to learn was to sit on the ground with anycomfort; and a log or a fence, for a few minutes' rest, was a thing ofjoy. Then the smoke from the camp-fires almost suffocated me, and alwaysseemed to blow toward me, though each of the others thought himself thefavored one. But the worst part of the twenty-four hours was frombedtime till daylight, half-awake and half-asleep and half-frozen. Iwas, since Kernstown, having that battle all over and over again. 

I noticed a thing in this camp (it being the first winter of the war), in which experience and necessity afterward made a great change. Thesoldiers, not being accustomed to fires out-of-doors, frequently hadeither the tails of their overcoats burned off, or big holes or scorchedplaces in their pantaloons. 

Since Jackson's late reverse, more troops being needed, the militia hadbeen ordered out, and the contingent from Rockbridge County was encampeda few miles in rear of us. I got permission from our captain to go tosee them and hear the news from home. Among them were several merchantsof Lexington, and steady old farmers from the county. They were muchimpressed with the accounts of the battle and spoke very solemnly ofwar. I had ridden Sergeant Baxter McCorkle's horse, and, on my return, soon after passing through Mt. Jackson, overtook Bedinger and CharleyBoteler, with a canteen of French brandy which a surgeon-friend in townhad given them. As a return for a drink, I asked Bedinger to ride apiece on my horse, which, for some time, he declined to do, but finallysaid, "All right; get down. " He had scarcely gotten into the saddlebefore he plied the horse with hat and heels, and away he went down theroad at full speed and disappeared in the distance. 

This was more kindness than I had intended, but it afforded a goodlaugh. Boteler and the brandy followed the horseman, and I turned in andspent the night with the College company, quartered close by as a guardto General Jackson's headquarters. I got back to camp the nextafternoon, Sunday. McCorkle had just found his horse, still saddled andbridled, grazing in a wheat-field. 

From Camp Buchanan we fell back to Rude's Hill, four miles above Mt. Jackson and overlooking the Shenandoah River. About once in three daysour two Parrott guns, to one of which I belonged, were sent down toGeneral Ashby, some ten miles, for picket service to supply the place ofChew's battery, which exhausted its ammunition in daily skirmishes withthe enemy. Ashby himself was always there; and an agreeable, unpretending gentleman he was. His complexion was very dark and his hairand beard as black as a raven. He was always in motion, mounted on oneof his three superb stallions, one of which was coal-black, another achestnut sorrel, and the third white. On our first trip we had a livelycannonade, and the white horse in our team, still bearing the stains ofblood from the Kernstown carnage, reared and plunged furiously duringthe firing. The Federal skirmish line was about a mile off, near theedge of some woods, and at that distance looked very harmless; but whenI looked at them through General Ashby's field-glass it made them lookso large, and brought them so close, that it startled me. There was afence between, and, on giving the glass a slight jar, I imagined theyjumped the fence; I preferred looking at them with the naked eye. BobLee volunteered to go with us another day (he belonged to anotherdetachment). He seemed to enjoy the sport much. He had not been atKernstown, and I thought if he had, possibly he would have felt more asdid I and the white horse. 

On our way down on another expedition, hearing the enemy were driving inour pickets, and that we would probably have some lively work andrunning, I left my blanket--a blue one I had recently borrowed--at thehouse of a mulatto woman by the roadside, and told her I would call forit as we came back. We returned soon, but the woman, learning that abattle was impending, had locked up and gone. This blanket was my onlywrap during the chilly nights, so I must have it. The guns had gone on. As I stood deliberating as to what I should do, General Ashby cameriding by. I told him my predicament and asked, "Shall I get in and getit?" He said, "Yes, certainly. " With the help of an axe I soon had awindow-sash out and my blanket in my possession. From these frequentpicket excursions I got the name of "Veteran. " My friend Bollinggenerously offered to go as my substitute on one expedition, but theCaptain, seeing our two detachments were being overworked, had allrelieved and sent other detachments with our guns. 

From Rude's Hill about fifty of us recruits were detailed to go toHarrisonburg--Lieutenant Graham in command--to guard prisoners. Theprisoners were quartered in the courthouse. Among them were a number ofDunkards from the surrounding country, whose creed was "No fight. " I wasappointed corporal, the only promotion I was honored with during thewar, and that only for the detailed service. Here we spent a week or tendays, pleasantly, with good fare and quarters. Things continued quiet atthe front during this time. 

The enemy again advanced, and quite a lively cavalry skirmish was hadfrom Mt. Jackson to the bridge across the Shenandoah. The enemy triedhard to keep our men from burning this bridge, and in the fray Ashby'swhite horse was mortally wounded under him and his own life saved bythe daring interposition of one of his men. His horse lived to carry himout, but fell dead as soon as he had accomplished it; and, after hisdeath, every hair was pulled from his tail by Ashby's men as mementoesof the occasion. 

[Illustration: ROBERT A. GIBSON]

Jackson fell back slowly, and, on reaching Harrisonburg, to our dismay, the head of the column filed to the left, on the road leading toward theBlue Ridge, thus disclosing the fact that the Valley was to be given upa prey to the enemy. Gloom was seen on every face at feeling that ourhomes were forsaken. We carried our prisoners along, and amiserable-looking set the poor Dunkards were, with their long beards andsolemn eyes. A little fun, though, we would have. Every mile or so, andat every cross-road, a sign-post was stuck up, "Keezletown Road, 2miles, " and of every countryman or darky along the way some wag wouldinquire the distance to Keezletown, and if he thought we could get therebefore night. 

By dawn next morning we were again on the march. I have recalled thisearly dawn oftener, I am sure, than any other of my whole life. Our roadlay along the edge of a forest, occasionally winding in and out of it. At the more open places we could see the Blue Ridge in the neardistance. During the night a slight shower had moistened the earth andleaves, so that our steps, and even the wheels of the artillery, werescarcely heard. Here and there on the roadside was the home of asoldier, in which he had just passed probably his last night. Idistinctly recall now the sobs of a wife or mother as she moved about, preparing a meal for her husband or son, and the thoughts it gave riseto. Very possibly it helped also to remind us that we had left camp thatmorning without any breakfast ourselves. At any rate, I told my friend, Joe McAlpin, who was quite too modest a man to forage, and face astrange family in quest of a meal, that if he would put himself in mycharge I would promise him a good breakfast. 

In a few miles we reached McGaheysville, a quiet, comfortable littlevillage away off in the hills. The sun was now up, and now was the timeand this the place. A short distance up a cross-street I saw amotherly-looking old lady standing at her gate, watching the passingtroops. Said I, "Mac, there's the place. " We approached, and I announcedthe object of our visit. She said, "Breakfast is just ready. Walk in, sit down at the table, and make yourselves at home. " A breakfast itwas--fresh eggs, white light biscuit and other toothsome articles. A manof about forty-five years--a boarder--remarked, at the table, "The warhas not cost me the loss of an hour's sleep. " The good mother said, witha quavering tone of voice, "_I_ have sons in the army. "

CHAPTER IV

SWIFT RUN GAP--REORGANIZATION OF THE BATTERY--WADING IN THEMUD--CROSSING AND RECROSSING THE BLUE RIDGE--BATTLE OF McDOWELL--RETURNTO THE VALLEY

We reached the south branch of the Shenandoah about noon, crossed on abridge, and that night camped in Swift Run Gap. Our detail was separatedfrom the battery and I, therefore, not with my own mess. We occupied alow, flat piece of ground with a creek alongside and about forty yardsfrom the tent in which I stayed. The prisoners were in a barn a quarterof a mile distant. Here we had most wretched weather, real winter again, rain or snow almost all the time. One night about midnight I wasawakened by hearing a horse splashing through water just outside of thetent and a voice calling to the inmates to get out of the flood. Thehorse was backed half into the tent-door, and, one by one, my companionsleft me. My bunk was on a little rise. I put my hand out--into thewater. I determined, however, to stay as long as I could, and was soonasleep, which showed that I was becoming a soldier--in one importantrespect at least. By daylight, the flood having subsided, I was able toreach a fence and "coon it" to a hill above. 

While in this camp, as the time had expired for which most of thesoldiers enlisted, the army was reorganized. The battery having more menthan was a quota for one company, the last recruits were required toenlist in other companies or to exchange with older members who wishedto change. Thus some of our most interesting members left us, to joinother commands, and the number of our guns was reduced from eight tosix. The prisoners were now disposed of, and I returned to my old mess. After spending about ten days in this wretched camp we marched again, following the Shenandoah River along the base of the mountains towardPort Republic. After such weather, the dirt-roads were, of course, almost bottomless. The wagons monopolized them during the day, so we hadto wait until they were out of the way. When they halted for the night, we took the mud. The depth of it was nearly up to my knees andfrequently over them. The bushes on the sides of the road, and thedarkness, compelled us to wade right in. Here was swearing and growling, "Flanders and Flounders. " An infantryman was cursing Stonewall mosteloquently, when the old Christian rode by, and, hearing him, said, inhis short way, "It's for your own good, sir!" The wagons could make onlysix miles during the day, and, by traveling this distance after night, we reached them about nine o'clock. We would then build fires, get ourcooking utensils, and cook our suppers, and, by the light of the fires, see our muddy condition and try to dry off before retiring to theground. We engaged in this sort of warfare for three days, when wereached Port Republic, eighteen miles from our starting-point and aboutthe same distance from Staunton. Our movements, or rather Jackson's, hadentirely bewildered us as to his intentions. 

While we were at Swift Run, Ewell's division, having been brought fromthe army around Richmond, was encamped just across the mountain oppositeus. We remained at Port Republic several days. Our company wasconvenient to a comfortable farmhouse, where hot apple turnovers wereconstantly on sale. Our hopes for remaining in the Valley were againblasted when the wagons moved out on the Brown's Gap road and wefollowed across the Blue Ridge, making our exit from the pass a fewmiles north of Mechum's River, which we reached about noon of thefollowing day. 

There had been a good deal of cutting at each other among the members ofthe company who hailed from different sides of the BlueRidge--"Tuckahoes" and "Cohees, " as they are provincially called. "Lit"Macon, formerly sheriff of Albemarle County, an incessant talker, hadgiven us glowing accounts of the treatment we would receive "on t'otherside. " "Jam puffs, jam puffs!" Joe Shaner and I, having something of aturn for investigating the resources of a new country, took the firstopportunity of testing Macon's promised land. We selected afine-looking house, and, approaching it, made known our wants to a younglady. She left us standing outside of the yard, we supposed to cool offwhile she made ready for our entertainment in the house. In this we weremistaken; for, after a long time, she returned and handed us, throughthe fence, some cold corn-bread and bacon. This and similar experiencesby others gave us ample means to tease Macon about the grand things wewere to see and enjoy "on t'other side. "

We were now much puzzled as to the meaning of this "wiring in and wiringout, " as we had turned to the right on crossing the mountain and takenthe road toward Staunton. To our astonishment we recrossed the mountain, from the top of which we again gazed on that grand old Valley, and feltthat our homes might still be ours. A mile or two from the mountain laythe quiet little village of Waynesboro, where we arrived about noon. AsI was passing along the main street, somewhat in advance of the battery, Frank Preston came running out of one of the houses--the Waddells'--and, with his usual take-no-excuse style, dragged me in to face a family ofthe prettiest girls in Virginia. I was immediately taken to thedining-room, where were "jam puffs" sure enough, and the beautiful MissNettie to divide my attention. 

The next day we camped near Staunton and remained a day. Conjecturingnow as to Jackson's program was wild, so we concluded to let him havehis own way. The cadets of the Virginia Military Institute, most of whomwere boys under seventeen, had, in this emergency, been ordered to thefield, and joined the line of march as we passed through Staunton, andthe young ladies of that place made them the heroes of the army, to thedisgust of the "Veterans" of the old Stonewall Brigade. Our course wasnow westward, and Milroy, who was too strong for General Ed. Johnson inthe Alleghanies, was the object. About twenty miles west of Staunton wasthe home of a young lady friend, and, on learning that our road laywithin four miles of it, I determined at least to try to see her. Sergeant Clem. Fishburne, who was related to the family, expected to gowith me, but at the last moment gave it up, so I went alone. To my verygreat disappointment she was not at home, but her sisters entertained menicely with music, etc. , and filled my haversack before I left. Justbefore starting off in the afternoon I learned that cannonading had beenheard toward the front. When a mile or two on my way a passingcavalryman, a stranger to me, kindly offered to carry my overcoat, whichhe did, and left it with the battery. 

The battery had marched about fifteen miles after I had left it, so Ihad to retrace my four miles, then travel the fifteen, crossing twomountains. I must have walked at least five miles an hour, as I reachedthe company before sundown. They had gone into camp. My brother John, and Frank Preston, seeing me approach, came out to meet me, and told mehow excessively uneasy they had been about me all day. A battle had beenfought and they had expected to be called on every moment, and, "Supposewe _had_ gone in, and you off foraging!" How penitent I felt, and at thesame time how grateful for having two such anxious guardians! Whileexpressing this deep interest they each kept an eye on my fullhaversack. "Well, " said I, "I have some pabulum here; let's go to themess and give them a snack. " They said, "That little bit wouldn't be adrop in the bucket with all that mess; let's just go down yonder to thebranch and have one real good old-fashioned repast. " So off we went tothe branch, and by the time they were through congratulating me ongetting back before the battery had "gotten into it, " my haversack wasempty. The battle had been fought by Johnson's division, the enemywhipped and put to flight. The next day we started in pursuit, passingthrough McDowell, a village in Highland County, and near this villagethe fight had occurred. The ground was too rough and broken for theeffective use of artillery, so the work was done by the infantry on bothsides. This was the first opportunity that many of us had had of seeinga battlefield the day after the battle. The ghastly faces of the deadmade a sickening and lasting impression; but I hoped I did not look aspale as did some of the young cadets, who proved gallant enoughafterward. We continued the pursuit a day or two through that wildmountainous country, but Milroy stopped only once after his defeat, fora skirmish. In a meadow and near the roadside stood a deserted cabin, which had been struck several times during the skirmish by shells. Iwent inside of it, to see what a shell could do. Three had penetratedthe outer wall and burst in the house, and I counted twenty-seven holesmade through the frame partition by the fragments. Being anartilleryman, and therefore to be exposed to missiles of that kind, Iconcluded that my chances for surviving the war were extremely slim. 

While on this expedition an amusing incident occurred in our mess. Therebelonged to it quite a character. He was not considered a pretty boy, and tried to get even with the world by taking good care of himself. Wehad halted one morning to cook several days' rations, and a large pileof bread was placed near the fire, of which we were to eat our breakfastand the rest was to be divided among us. He came, we thought, too oftento the pile, and helped himself bountifully; he would return to his seaton his blanket, and one or two of us saw, or thought we saw, him concealpieces of bread under it. Nothing was said at the time, but after he hadgone away Bolling, Packard and I concluded to examine his haversack, which looked very fat. In it we found about half a gallon of rye forcoffee, a hock of bacon, a number of home-made buttered biscuit, ahen-egg and a goose-egg, besides more than his share of camp rations. Here was our chance to teach a Christian man in an agreeable way thathe should not appropriate more than his share of the rations without theconsent of the mess, so we set to and ate heartily of his good stores, and in their place put, for ballast, a river-jack that weighed about twopounds. He carried the stone for two days before he ate down to it, and, when he did, was mad enough to eat it. We then told him what we had doneand why, but thought he had hidden enough under his blanket to carry himthrough the campaign. 

Before leaving the Valley we had observed decided evidences of spring;but here it was like midwinter--not a bud nor blade of grass to be seen. Milroy was now out of reach, so we retraced our steps. On getting out ofthe mountains we bore to the left of Staunton in the direction ofHarrisonburg, twenty-five miles northeast of the former. After the bleakmountains, with their leafless trees, the old Valley looked likeParadise. The cherry and peach-trees were loaded with bloom, the fieldscovered with rank clover, and how our weary horses did revel in it! Wecamped the first night in a beautiful meadow, and soon after settlingdown I borrowed Sergeant Gregory's one-eyed horse to go foraging on. Iwas very successful; I got supper at a comfortable Dutch house, and atit and one or two others I bought myself and the mess rich. As I wasreturning to camp after night with a ham of bacon between me and thepommel of the saddle, a bucket of butter on one arm, a kerchief of pieson the other, and chickens swung across behind, my one-eyed horsestumbled and fell forward about ten feet with his nose to the ground. Ilet him take care of himself while I took care of my provisions. When herecovered his feet and started, I do not think a single one of mypossessions had slipped an inch. 

CHAPTER V

BRIDGEWATER--LURAY VALLEY--FRONT ROYAL--FOLLOWING GENERAL BANKS--NIGHTMARCH--BATTLE OF WINCHESTER--BANKS'S RETREAT

The next day we who were on foot crossed the Shenandoah on a bridge madeof wagons standing side by side, with tongues up-stream, and boardsextending from one wagon to another. We reached Bridgewater about fourP. M. It was a place of which I had never heard, and a beautiful villageit proved to be, buried in trees and flowers. From Bridgewater we wentto Harrisonburg, and then on our old familiar and beaten path--theValley pike to New Market. Thence obliquely to the right, crossing theMassanutten Mountain into Luray Valley. During the Milroy campaign Ewellhad crossed into the Valley, and we now followed his division, which wasseveral miles in advance. Banks was in command of the Union force in theValley, with his base at Winchester and detachments of his army atStrasburg, eighteen miles southwest, and at Front Royal, about the samedistance in the Luray Valley. So the latter place was to be attackedfirst. About three P. M. The following day cannonading was heard onahead, and, after a sharp fight, Ewell carried the day. We arrivedabout sundown, after it was all over. In this battle the First MarylandRegiment (Confederate) had met the First Maryland (Federal) and capturedthe whole regiment. Several members of our battery had brothers or otherrelatives in the Maryland (Confederate) regiment, whom they now met forthe first time since going into service. Next day we moved towardMiddletown on the Valley pike, and midway between Winchester andStrasburg. 

Jackson's rapid movements seemed to have taken the enemy entirely bysurprise, and we struck their divided forces piecemeal, and even afterthe Front Royal affair their troops at Strasburg, consisting chiefly ofcavalry, had not moved. Two of our guns were sent on with the LouisianaTigers, to intercept them at Middletown. The guns were posted about onehundred and fifty yards from the road, and the Tigers strung alongbehind a stone fence on the roadside. Everything was in readiness whenthe enemy came in sight. They wavered for a time, some trying to passaround, but, being pushed from behind, there was no alternative. Most ofthem tried to run the gauntlet; few, however, got through. As the restof us came up we met a number of prisoners on horseback. They had beenriding at a run for nine miles on the pike in a cloud of white dust. Many of them were hatless, some had saber-cuts on their heads andstreams of blood were coursing down through the dust on their faces. Among them was a woman wearing a short red skirt and mounted on a tallhorse. 

Confined in a churchyard in the village were two or three hundredprisoners. As we were passing by them an old negro cook, belonging tothe Alleghany Rough Battery of our brigade, ran over to the fence andgave them a hearty greeting, said he was delighted to see them "thar, "and that we would catch all the rest of them before they got back home. Banks's main force was at Winchester, and thither we directed ourcourse. 

Newtown was the next village, and there we had another skirmish, ourartillery being at one end of the town and the enemy's at the opposite. In this encounter two members of our battery were wounded. There wasgreat rejoicing among the people to see us back again and to be oncemore free from Northern soldiers. As the troops were passing throughNewtown a very portly old lady came running out on her porch, and, spreading her arms wide, called out, "All of you run here and kiss me!"

Night soon set in, and a long, weary night it was; the most trying Iever passed, in war or out of it. From dark till daylight we did notadvance more than four miles. Step by step we moved along, halting forfive minutes; then on a few steps and halt again. About ten o'clock wepassed by a house rather below the roadside, on the porch of which layseveral dead Yankees, a light shining on their ghastly faces. Occasionally we were startled by the sharp report of a rifle, followedin quick succession by others; then all as quiet as the grave. Sometimes, when a longer halt was made, we would endeavor to steal a fewmoments' sleep, for want of which it was hard to stand up. By the time ablanket was unrolled, the column was astir again, and so it continuedthroughout the long, dreary hours of the night. 

At last morning broke clear and beautiful, finding us about two milesfrom Winchester. After moving on for perhaps half a mile, we filed tothe left. All indications were that a battle was imminent, Banksevidently intending to make one more effort. The sun was up, and nevershone on a prettier country nor a lovelier May morning. Along our routewas a brigade of Louisiana troops under the command of Gen. Dick Taylor, of Ewell's division. They were in line of battle in a ravine, and as wewere passing by them several shells came screaming close over our headsand burst just beyond. I heard a colonel chiding his men for dodging, one of whom called out, in reply, "Colonel, lead us up to where we canget at them and then we won't dodge!" We passed on, bearing to the rightand in the direction from which the shells came. General Jackson orderedus to take position on the hill just in front. The ground was coveredwith clover, and as we reached the crest we were met by a volley ofmusketry from a line of infantry behind a stone fence about two hundredyards distant. 

My gun was one of the last to get into position, coming up on the left. I was assigned the position of No. 2, Jim Ford No. 1. The Minie-ballswere now flying fast by our heads, through the clover and everywhere. Acharge of powder was handed me, which I put into the muzzle of the gun. In a rifled gun this should have been rammed home first, but No. 1 said, "Put in your shell and let one ram do. Hear those Minies?" I heard themand adopted the suggestion; the consequence was, the charge stoppedhalf-way down and there it stuck, and the gun was thereby renderedunavailable. This was not very disagreeable, even from a patriotic pointof view, as we could do but little good shooting at infantry behind astone fence. On going about fifty yards to the rear, I came up with myfriend and messmate, Gregory, who was being carried by several comrades. A Minie-ball had gone through his left arm into his breast and almostthrough his body, lodging in the right side of his back. Still herecovered, and was a captain of ordnance at the surrender, and two yearsago I visited him at his own home in California. As my train stopped athis depot, and I saw a portly old gentleman with a long white beardcoming to meet it, I thought of the youth I remembered, and said, "Canthat be Gregory?"

Then came Frank Preston with his arm shattered, which had to beamputated at the shoulder. I helped to carry Gregory to a barn onehundred and fifty yards in the rear, and there lay Bob McKim, ofBaltimore, another member of the company, shot through the head anddying. Also my messmate, Wash. Stuart, who had recently joined thebattery. A ball had struck him just below the cheek-bone, and, passingthrough the mouth, came out on the opposite side of his face, breakingout most of his jaw-teeth. Then came my brother John with a stream ofblood running from the top of his head, and, dividing at the forehead, trickled in all directions down his face. My brother David was alsoslightly wounded on the arm by a piece of shell. By this time theLouisianians had been "led up to where they could get at them, " andgotten them on the run. I forgot to mention that, as one of our guns wasbeing put into position, a gate-post interfered. Captain Poague orderedJohn Agnor to cut the post down with an axe. Agnor said, "Captain, Iwill be killed!" Poague replied, "Do your duty, John. " He had scarcelystruck three blows before he fell dead, pierced by a Minie-ball. 

In this battle, known as First Winchester, two of the battery werekilled and twelve or fourteen wounded. The fighting was soon over andbecame a chase. My gun being _hors de combat_, I remained awhile withthe wounded, so did not witness the first wild enthusiasm of theWinchester people as our men drove the enemy through the streets, butheard that the ladies could not be kept indoors. Our battery did itselfcredit on this occasion. I will quote from Gen. Dick Taylor's book, entitled "Destruction and Reconstruction": "Jackson was on the pike andnear him were several regiments lying down for shelter, as the fire fromthe ridge was heavy and searching. A Virginian battery, the RockbridgeArtillery, was fighting at great disadvantage, and already much cut up. Poetic authority asserts that 'Old Virginny never tires, ' and theconduct of this battery justified the assertion of the muses. Withscarce a leg or wheel for man and horse, gun or caisson, to stand on, itcontinued to hammer away at the crushing fire above. " And further on inthe same narrative he says, "Meanwhile, the Rockbridge Battery held onmanfully and engaged the enemy's attention. " Dr. Dabney's "Life ofStonewall Jackson, " page 377, says: "Just at this moment General Jacksonrode forward, followed by two field-officers, to the very crest of thehill, and, amidst a perfect shower of balls, reconnoitred the wholeposition.... He saw them posting another battery, with which they hopedto enfilade the ground occupied by the guns of Poague; and nearer to hisleft front a body of riflemen were just seizing a position behind astone fence when they poured a galling fire upon the gunners and struckdown many men and horses. Here this gallant battery stood its ground, sometimes almost silenced, yet never yielding an inch. After a time theychanged their front to the left, and while a part of their guns repliedto the opposing battery the remainder shattered the stone fence, whichsheltered the Federal infantry, with solid shot and raked it withcanister. "

In one of the hospitals I saw Jim ("Red") Jordan, an old schoolmate andmember of the Alleghany Roughs, with his arm and shoulder horriblymangled by a shell. He had beautiful brown eyes, and, as I came into theroom where he lay tossing on his bed, he opened them for a moment andcalled my name, but again fell back delirious, and soon afterward died. 

The chase was now over, and the town full of soldiers and officers, especially the latter. I was invited by John Williams, better known as"Johnny, " to spend the night at his home, a home renowned even inhospitable Winchester for its hospitality. He had many more intimatefriends than I, and the house was full. Still I thought I received moreattention and kindness than even the officers. I was given a choice roomall to myself, and never shall I forget the impression made by the sightof that clean, snow-white bed, the first I had seen since taking up armsfor my country, which already seemed to me a lifetime. I thought I mustlie awake awhile, in order to take in the situation, then go graduallyto sleep, realizing that to no rude alarm was I to hearken, and once ortwice during the night to wake up and realize it again. But, alas! myplans were all to no purpose; for, after the continual marching and thevigils of the previous night, I was asleep the moment my head touchedthe pillow, nor moved a muscle till breakfast was announced nextmorning. 

CHAPTER VI

CAPTURING FEDERAL CAVALRY--CHARLESTOWN--EXTRAORDINARY MARCH

After camping for a day or two about three miles below Winchester wemarched again toward Harper's Ferry, thirty miles below. Four of the sixguns of the battery were sent in advance with the infantry of thebrigade; the other two guns, to one of which I belonged, coming onleisurely in the rear. As we approached Charlestown, seated on thelimbers and caissons, we saw three or four of our cavalrymen coming atfull speed along a road on our left, which joined the road we were on, making an acute angle at the end of the main street. They announced"Yankee cavalry" as they passed and disappeared into the town. In amoment the Federals were within one hundred yards of us. We had noofficer, except Sergeant Jordan, but we needed none. Instantly every manwas on his feet, the guns unlimbered, and, by the time the muzzles werein the right direction, No. 5 handed me a charge of canister, No. 1standing ready to ram. Before I put the charge into the gun the enemyhad come to a halt within eighty yards of us, and their commandingofficer drew and waved a white handkerchief. We, afraid to leave ourguns lest they should escape or turn the tables on us, after some timeprevailed on our straggling cavalry, who had halted around the turn, toride forward and take them. There were seventeen Federals, well-mountedand equipped. Our cavalry claimed all the spoils, and I heard afterwardmost of the credit, too. We got four of the horses, one of which, undervarious sergeants and corporals, and by the name of "Fizzle, " becamequite a celebrity. 

[Illustration: EDWARD A. MOORE

(March, 1862)]

Delighted with our success and gallantry, we again mounted our caissonsand entered the town at a trot. The people had been under Northern rulefor a long time, and were rejoiced to greet their friends. I heard avery old lady say to a little girl, as we drove by, "Oh, dear! if yourfather was just here, to see this!" The young ladies were standing onthe sides of the streets, and, as our guns rattled by, would reach outto hand us some of the dainties from their baskets; but we had hadplenty, so they could not reach far enough. The excitement over, we wentinto camp in a pretty piece of woods two miles below the town and sixfrom Harper's Ferry. Here we spent several days pleasantly. 

Mayor Middleton, of our town, Lexington, had followed us with awagon-load of boxes of edibles from home. So many of the company hadbeen wounded or left behind that the rest of us had a double share. Gregory's box, which Middleton brought from the railroad, contained ajar of delicious pickle. I had never relished it before, but camp-lifehad created a craving for it that seemed insatiable. The cows of theneighborhood seemed to have a curiosity to see us, and would strollaround the camp and stand kindly till a canteen could be filled withrich milk, which could soon be cooled in a convenient spring. Justoutside of Charlestown lived the Ransons, who had formerly lived nearLexington and were great friends of my father's family. I called to seethem. Buck, the second son, was then about fifteen and chafing to gointo the army. I took a clean shave with his razor, which he used dailyto encourage his beard and shorten his stay in Jericho. He treated me toa flowing goblet of champagne and gave me a lead-colored knit jacket, with a blue border, in which I felt quite fine, and wore through therest of the campaign. It was known in the mess as my "Josey. " Buckeventually succeeded in getting in, and now bears the scars of threesaber-cuts on his head. 

It was raining the day we broke camp and started toward Winchester, butour march was enlivened by the addition of a new recruit in the personof Steve Dandridge. He was about sixteen and had just come from theVirginia Military Institute, where he had been sent to be kept out ofthe army. He wore a cadet-cap which came well over the eyes and nose, and left a mass of brown, curly hair unprotected on the back of hishead. His joy at being "mustered in" was irrepressible. He had no earfor music, was really "too good-natured to strike a tune, " but the songshe tried to sing would have made a "dog laugh. " Within an hour after hisarrival he was on intimate terms with everybody and knew and called usall by our first names. 

The march of this day was one of the noted ones of the war. Our batterytraveled about thirty-five miles, and the infantry of the brigade, beingcamped within a mile of Harper's Ferry, made more than forty milesthrough rain and mud. The cause of this haste was soon revealed. GeneralFremont, with a large army, was moving rapidly from the north to cut usoff, and was already nearer our base than we were, while GeneralShields, with another large force, was pushing from the southeast, having also the advantage of us in distance, and trying to unite withFremont, and General McDowell with 20, 000 men was at Fredericksburg. Theroads on which the three armies were marching concentrated at Strasburg, and Jackson was the first to get there. Two of our guns were put inposition on a fortified hill near the town, from which I could see thepickets of both the opposing armies on their respective roads andnumbers of our stragglers still following on behind us, between the two. Many of our officers had collected around our guns with theirfield-glasses, and, at the suggestion of one of them, we fired a fewrounds at the enemy's videttes "to hurry up our stragglers. "

The next day, when near the village of Edinburg, a squadron of ourcavalry, under command of General Munford, was badly stampeded by acharge of Federal cavalry. Suddenly some of these men and horses withoutriders came dashing through our battery, apparently blind to objects intheir front. One of our company was knocked down by the knees of aflying horse, and, as the horse was making his next leap toward him, hisbridle was seized by a driver and the horse almost doubled up andbrought to a standstill. This was the only time I ever heard afield-officer upbraided by privates; but one of the officers got ampleabuse from us on that occasion. 

I had now again, since Winchester, been assigned to a Parrott gun, andit, with another, was ordered into position on the left of the road. TheFederals soon opened on us with two guns occupying an unfavorableposition considerably below us. The gunner of my piece was J. P. Smith, who afterward became an aide on General Jackson's staff, and was withhim when he received his death-wound at Chancellorsville. One of theguns firing at us could not, for some time, be accurately located, owingto some small trees, etc. , which intervened, so the other gun receivedmost of our attention. Finally, I marked the hidden one exactly, beyonda small tree, from the puff of smoke when it fired. I then asked J. P. , as we called him, to let me try a shot at it, to which he kindlyassented. I got a first-rate aim and ordered "Fire!" The enemy's gundid not fire again, though its companion continued for some time. I haveoften wished to know what damage I did them. 

The confusion of the stampede being over, the line of march was quietlyresumed for several miles, until we reached "The Narrows, " where weagain went into position. I had taken a seat by the roadside and waschatting with a companion while the guns drove out into a field toprepare for action, and, as I could see the ground toward the enemy, Iknew that I had ample time to get to my post before being needed. Whengetting out the accouterments the priming-wire could not be found. Ibeing No. 3 was, of course, responsible for it. I heard Captain Poague, on being informed who No. 3 was, shout, "Ned Moore, where is thatpriming-wire?" I replied, "It is in the limber-chest where it belongs. "There were a good many people around, and I did not wish it to appearthat I had misplaced my little priming-wire in the excitement ofcovering Stonewall's retreat. The captain yelled, as I thoughtunnecessarily, "It isn't there!" I, in the same tone, replied, "It isthere, and I will get it!" So off I hurried, and, to my delight, thereit was in its proper place, and I brought it forth with no smallflourish and triumph. 

After waiting here for a reasonable time, and no foe appearing, wefollowed on in rear of the column without further molestation orincident that I can now recall. We reached Harrisonburg after a fewdays' marching. 

CHAPTER VII

GENERAL JACKSON NARROWLY ESCAPES BEING CAPTURED AT PORTREPUBLIC--CONTEST BETWEEN CONFEDERATES AND FEDERALS FOR BRIDGE OVERSHENANDOAH

The College company had as cook a very black negro boy named Pete, whothrough all this marching had carried, on a baggage-wagon, a small gamerooster which he told me had whipped every chicken from Harrisonburg toWinchester and back again. At last he met defeat, and Pete consigned himto the pot, saying, "No chicken dat kin be whipped shall go 'long widJackson's headquarters. " At Harrisonburg we turned to the left again, but this time obliquely, in the direction of Port Republic, twenty milesdistant. We went into camp on Saturday evening, June 7, about one milefrom Port Republic and on the north side of the Shenandoah. Shields hadkept his army on the south side of this stream and had been movingparallel with us during our retreat. Jackson's division was in advance. Instead of going into camp, I, with two messmates, Bolling and WalterPackard, diverged to a log-house for supper. The man of the house wasquiet; his wife did the talking, and a great deal of it. She flatlyrefused us a bite to eat, but, on stating the case to her, she consentedto let us have some bread and milk. Seated around an unset dining-tablewe began divesting ourselves of our knapsacks. She said, "Just keep yourbaggage on; you can eat a bite and go. " We told her we could eat fasterunharnessed. She sliced a loaf of bread as sad as beeswax, one she hadhad on hand for perhaps a week, and gave us each a bowl of sour milk, all the while reminding us to make our stay short. For the sake of"argument" we proposed to call around for breakfast. She scorned theidea, had "promised breakfast to fifty already. " "Staying all night? Notany. " We said we could sleep in the yard and take our chances forbreakfast. After yielding, inch by inch, she said we could sleep on theporch. "Well, I reckon you just as well come into the house, " and showedus into a snug room containing two nice, clean beds, in one of which laya little "nigger" about five years old, with her nappy head on asnow-white pillow. We took the floor and slept all night, and wereroused next morning to partake of a first-rate breakfast. 

About eight or nine o'clock this Sunday morning we were taking our easein and about camp, some having gone to the river to bathe, and thehorses turned loose in the fields to graze. I was stretched at fulllength on the ground, when "bang!" went a Yankee cannon about a mile inour rear, toward Port Republic. We were up and astir instantly, fullyrealizing the situation. By lending my assistance to the drivers incatching and hitching up the horses, my gun was the first ready, andstarted immediately in the direction of the firing, with Captain Poaguein the lead, the other guns following on as they got ready. 

Three or four hundred yards brought us in full view of Port Republic, situated just across the river. Beyond, and to the left of the village, was a small body of woods; below this, and lying between the river andmountain, an open plain. We fired on several regiments of infantry inthe road parallel to and across the river, who soon began moving off tothe left. The other guns of the battery, arriving on the scene one at atime, took position on our left and opened vigorously on the retreatinginfantry. My gun then moved forward and unlimbered close to a bridgeabout two hundred yards below the town, where we took position on abluff in the bend of the river. We commenced firing at the enemy'scavalry as they emerged from the woods and crossed the open plain. Oneof our solid shots struck a horse and rider going at full gallop. Thehorse reared straight up, then down both fell in a common heap to riseno more. 

While in this position General Jackson, who had narrowly escaped beingcaptured in his quarters in the town, came riding up to us. Soon afterhis arrival we saw a single piece of artillery pass by the lower end ofthe village, and, turning to the right, drive quietly along the roadtoward the bridge. The men were dressed in blue, most of them having onblue overcoats; still we were confident they were our own men, asthree-fourths of us wore captured overcoats. General Jackson ordered, "Fire on that gun!" We said, "General, those are our men. " The Generalrepeated, "Fire on that gun!" Captain Poague said, "General, I knowthose are our men. " (Poague has since told me that he had, that morning, crossed the river and seen one of our batteries in camp near thisplace. ) Then the General called, "Bring that gun over here, " andrepeated the order several times. We had seen, a short distance behindus, a regiment of our infantry, the Thirty-seventh Virginia. It was nowmarching in column very slowly toward us. In response to Jackson's orderto "bring that gun over here, " the Federals, for Federals they were, unlimbered their gun and pointed it through the bridge. We tried tofire, but could not depress our gun sufficiently for a good aim. 

The front of the infantry regiment had now reached a point within twentysteps of us on our right, when the Federals turned their gun toward usand fired, killing the five men of the regiment at the front. TheFederals then mounted their horses and limber, leaving their gun behind, and started off. The infantry, shocked by their warm reception, had notyet recovered. We called on them, over and over, to kill a horse as theenemy drove off. They soon began shooting, and, I thought, fired shotsenough to kill a dozen horses; but on the Federals went, right in frontof us, and not more than one hundred yards distant, accompanied by twoofficers on horseback. When near the town the horse of one officerreceived a shot and fell dead. The Thirty-seventh Virginia followed onin column through the bridge, its front having passed the deserted gunwhile its rear was passing us. The men in the rear, mistaking the frontof their own regiment for the enemy, opened fire on them, heedless ofthe shouts of their officers and of the artillerymen as to what theywere doing. I saw a little fellow stoop, and, resting his rifle on hisknee, take a long aim and fire. Fortunately, they shot no better attheir own men than they did at the enemy, as not a man was touched. Upto this time we had been absorbed in events immediately at hand, but, quiet being now restored, we heard cannonading back toward Harrisonburg. Fremont had attacked Ewell at Cross Keys, about four miles from us. Soonthe musketry was heard and the battle waxed warm. 

Remaining in this position the greater portion of the day, we listenedanxiously to learn from the increasing or lessening sound how the battlewas going with Ewell, and turned our eyes constantly in the oppositedirection, expecting a renewal of the attack from Shields. Toward themiddle of the afternoon the sound became more and more remote--Ewell hadevidently won the day, which fact was later confirmed by couriers. Welearned, too, of the death of General Ashby, which had occurred thepreceding day. 

CHAPTER VIII

BATTLE OF PORT REPUBLIC

About sundown we crossed on the bridge, and our wagons joining us wewent into bivouac. In times of this kind, when every one is tired, eachhas to depend on himself to prepare his meal. While I was consideringhow best and soonest I could get my supper cooked, Bob Lee happened tostop at our fire, and said he would show me a first-rate plan. It was tomix flour and water together into a thin batter, then fry the grease outof bacon, take the meat out of the frying pan and pour the batter in, and then "just let her rip awhile over the fire. " I found the receipt agood one and expeditious. 

About two miles below us, near the river, we could plainly see theenemy's camp-fires. Early next morning we were astir, and crossed theother fork of the river on an improvised bridge made of boards laid onthe running-gear of wagons. 

We felt assured that Fremont and Shields had received amplesatisfaction, and that we were done with them for the present at least. Still more were we of this opinion when the wagon-train took the Brown'sGap road leading across the Blue Ridge, we expecting, of course, tofollow. We did not follow, however, but took instead the route Shields'sforces had taken the day previous, along which lay the bodies of the menwe had killed, their heads, with few exceptions, being shot entirelyoff. 

Having gone about a mile, the enemy opened on us with artillery, theirshells tearing by us with a most venomous whistle. Halted on the sidesof the road, as we moved by, were the infantry of our brigade. Amongthem I recognized my old school-teacher, Alfonso Smith, who had justjoined the army. I had many times quailed under his fierce eye andwrithed under his birch rod. The strain to which he was subjected underthese circumstances was doubly trying, waiting inactive for his firstbaptism of fire. His eye was restless as we passed; perhaps he had apresentiment, as he received his death-wound before the day was over. 

Again our two Parrott guns were ordered forward. Turning out of the roadto the left, we unlimbered and commenced firing. The ground on which westood was level and very soft, and, having no hand-spike, we had to movethe trail of the gun by main force. The enemy very soon got our range, and more accurate shooting I was never subjected to. The other four gunsof the battery now came up, and, passing along a small ravine aboutforty yards behind us, halted for a time nearby. We were hotly engaged, shells bursting close around and pelting us with soft dirt as theystruck the ground. Bob Lee came creeping up from his gun in the ravine, and called to me, "Ned, that isn't making batter-cakes, is it?" Theconstant recoiling of our gun cut great furrows in the earth, which madeit necessary to move several times to more solid ground. In thesedifferent positions which we occupied three of the enemy's shells passedbetween the wheels and under the axle of our gun, bursting at the trail. One of them undermined the gunner's (Henry's) footing and injured him soas to necessitate his leaving the field. Even the old Irish hero, TomMartin, was demoralized, and, in dodging from a Yankee shell, was struckby the wheel of our gun in its recoil and rendered _hors de combat_. Wehad been kept in this position for two or three hours, while a flankmovement was being made by Taylor's Louisiana Brigade and the SecondVirginia Regiment through the brush at the foot of the mountain on ourright. When it was thought that sufficient time had been allowed forthem to make the detour, our whole line moved forward, the rest of thebattery several hundred yards to our left. When my gun moved up aneighth of a mile nearer to the enemy, they added two guns to the threeoccupying the site of an old coal-hearth at the foot of the ruggedmountain, so that our gun had five to contend with for an hour longer. 

Graham Montgomery had become gunner in Henry's place, and proved a goodone. He could not be hurried, and every time the smoke puffed from ourgun their cannoneers slid right and left from the coal-hearth, thenreturning to their guns loaded and gave us a volley. As usual in suchcases, our flanking party was longer in making their appearance thanexpected. The whole Federal line charged, and as they did so their ranksrapidly thinned, some hesitating to advance, while others were shot downin full view. Still they drove us back and captured one gun of ourbattery. Singleton, of my mess, was captured, and Lieut. Cole Davis, supposed to be mortally wounded, was left on the field. On getting backa short distance I found myself utterly exhausted, my woolen clothes wetwith perspiration. Having been too tired to get out of the way when thegun fired, my eardrums kept up the vibrations for hours. Sleep soonovercame me, but still the battle reverberated in my head. 

The Louisianians and the Second Virginia had gotten through the brushand driven the enemy from the field. I was roused, to join in thepursuit, and had the satisfaction of seeing the five cannon that hadplayed on our gun standing silent on the coal-hearth, in our hands. There being no room in their rear, their caissons and limbers stood offto their right on a flat piece of heavily wooded ground. This was almostcovered with dead horses. I think there must have been eighty or ninetyon less than an acre; one I noticed standing almost upright, perfectlylifeless, supported by a fallen tree. Farther on we overtook one of ourbattery horses which we had captured from Banks two weeks before. Shields's men then captured him from us, and we again from them. He hadbeen wounded four times, but was still fit for service. 

Such a spectacle as we here witnessed and exultingly enjoyed possiblyhas no parallel. After a rapid retreat of more than one hundred miles, to escape from the clutches of three armies hotly pursuing on flank andrear, one of which had outstripped us, we paused to contemplate thesituation. On the ground where we stood lay the dead and wounded ofShields's army, with much of their artillery and many prisoners in ourpossession, while, crowning the hills in full view and with no means ofcrossing an intervening river, even should they venture to do so, stoodanother army--Fremont's--with flags flying. 

CHAPTER IX

FROM BROWN'S GAP TO STAUNTON--FROM STAUNTON TO RICHMOND--COLDHARBOR--GENERAL LEE VISITS HIS SON IN THE BATTERY

I had exchanged my brother John as a bedfellow for Walter Packard. Walter was a droll fellow, rather given to arguing, and had a way ofenraging his adversary while he kept cool, and, when it suited, couldput on great dignity. Immediately following our battery, as we workedour way along a by-road through the foothills toward Brown's Gap, wasGen. Dick Taylor at the head of his Louisiana Brigade. Walter hadmounted and was riding on a caisson, contrary to orders recently issuedby Jackson. Taylor ordered him to get down. Walter turned around, and, looking coolly at him, said, with his usual sang-froid, "Who are you, and what the devil have you to do with my riding on a caisson?" Taylorseemed astounded for a moment, and then opened on poor Walter with avolley of oaths that our champion swearer, Irish Emmett, would haveenvied. 

When we had gotten about half-way to the top of the mountain, I, withthree others, was detailed to go back and bring Lieut. Cole Davis fromthe field. We were too tired for any thought but of ourselves, andretraced our steps, growling as we went. We had heard that Davis wasmortally wounded, and was probably dead then. Suddenly, one hundredyards in front of us, we saw a man riding slowly toward us, sittingerect, with his plume flying. We said, "That's Davis or his ghost!" Itwas he, held on his horse by a man on each side. We walked on with himtill dusk, but, finding he had assistants to spare, two of us overtookthe battery. Davis was shot through the body, and suffering dreadfully, able to move only in an upright posture. He entirely recovered, however, and did gallant service until the close of the war. 

Still photographed on my memory is the appearance of the body of one ofthe Second Virginia Regiment being hauled on our rear caisson. His headhad been shot off, and over the headless trunk was fastened a whitehandkerchief, which served as a sort of guide in the darkness. Weary ofplodding thus, Graham Montgomery and I left the road, a short distancefrom which we concluded to spend the night and be subject to no moreorders. A drizzling rain was falling. Each having a gum-cloth, we spreadone on the loose stones and the other over us, with our feet against abig tree, to keep from sliding down the mountainside. We were soonasleep, and when we awoke next morning we had slid into a heap closeagainst the tree. To give an idea of the ready access we had to theenemy's stores. I had been the possessor of nine gum-blankets within thepast three weeks, and no such article as a gum-blanket was evermanufactured in the South. Any soldier carrying a Confederate canteenwas at once recognized as a new recruit, as it required but a short timeto secure one of superior quality from a dead foeman on a battlefield. 

Following the road up the mountain, we came across one of our gunswhich, by bad driving, had fallen over an embankment some forty feet. Two horses still hitched to it lay on their backs, one of which Irecognized as Gregory's one-eyed dun which I had ridden foraging atBridgewater. After my arrival on top of the mountain I was sent with adetail which recovered the gun and the two horses, both alive. Dandridgeand Adams were driving the team when the gun went over. They savedthemselves by jumping, and came near having a fight right there as towho was at fault, and for a long time afterward it was only necessary torefer to the matter to have a repetition of the quarrel. 

After a day or two we countermarched toward Port Republic and went intocamp a mile from Weir's cave, where we spent several days. Thence towardStaunton and camped near the town. Here we were told that we were tohave a month's rest in consideration of our long-continued marching andfighting. Rest, indeed! We lost the three days we might have had forrest while there, preparing our camp for a month of ease. During ourstay here my father paid us a visit, having ridden from Lexington to seehis three sons. After having gotten ourselves comfortable, orders cameto pack up and be ready to move. I had carried in my knapsack a pair oflady's shoes captured from Banks's plunder at Winchester. These I gaveto a camp scavenger who came from the town for plunder. 

Little did we dream of the marching and fighting that were in store forus. Jackson, having vanquished three armies in the Valley, was nowordered to Richmond with his "bloody brigades. "

We left Staunton about the twentieth of June, crossed the Blue Ridge atRockfish Gap, passed through Charlottesville, and were choked, day afterday, by the red dust of the Piedmont region. In Louisa County we hadrain and mud to contend with, thence through the low, flat lands ofHanover, bearing to the left after passing Ashland. 

Our destination was now evident. The army around Richmond was waitingfor Jackson to dislodge McClellan from the Chickahominy swamps, and ourattack was to be made on his right flank. It seems that our powers ofendurance had been over-estimated or the distance miscalculated, as theinitiatory battle at Mechanicsville was fought by A. P. Hill withoutJackson's aid. This was the first of the seven days' fighting aroundRichmond. We arrived in the neighborhood of Cold Harbor about two P. M. On June 27, and approached more and more nearly the preliminarycannonading, most of which was done by the enemy's guns. About threeo'clock the musketry began, and soon thereafter the infantry of ourbrigade was halted in the road alongside of us, and, loading their guns, moved forward. 

[Illustration: JOHN M. BROWN

(War-time portrait)]

In a short time the fighting became furious, done almost entirely on ourside with small arms, as few positions could be found for artillery. Fortwo or three hours the noise of the battle remained almost stationary, accentuated at intervals by the shouting of the combatants, as groundwas lost or won. It was here that General Lee said to General Jackson, "That fire is very heavy! Do you think your men can stand it?" The replywas, "They can stand almost anything; they can stand that!" We stoodexpecting every moment to be ordered in, as every effort was made by ourofficers to find a piece of open ground on which we could unlimber. Bysundown the firing had gradually lessened and was farther from us, andwhen night came on the enemy had been driven from their fortificationsand quiet was restored. The loss on our side was fearful. Among thekilled was my cousin, James Allen, colonel of the Second VirginiaRegiment. 

While lying among the guns in park that night my rest was frequentlydisturbed by the antics of one of the battery horses suffering with anattack of "blind staggers, " and floundering around in the darkness amongthe sleeping men. 

Before leaving our place of bivouac the next morning, a visit fromGeneral Lee, attended by his full staff, to his son Robert, gave us ourfirst opportunity of seeing this grand man. The interview between fatherand son is described by the latter in his "Recollections and Letters ofGen. Robert E. Lee, " which I quote:

"The day after the battle of Cold Harbor, during the 'Seven Days'fighting around Richmond, was the first time I met my father after I hadjoined General Jackson. The tremendous work Stonewall's men hadperformed, including the rapid march from the Valley of Virginia, theshort rations, the bad water, and the great heat, had begun to tell uponus, and I was pretty well worn out. On this particular morning mybattery had not moved from its bivouac ground of the previous night, butwas parked in an open field, all ready waiting orders. Most of the menwere lying down, many sleeping, myself among the latter number. To getsome shade and to be out of the way I had crawled under a caisson, andwas busy making up many lost hours of rest. Suddenly I was rudelyawakened by a comrade, prodding me with a sponge-staff as I had failedto be aroused by his call, and was told to get up and come out, thatsome one wished to see me. Half-awake I staggered out, and found myselfface to face with General Lee and his staff. Their fresh uniforms, bright equipments, and well-groomed horses contrasted so forcibly withthe war-worn appearance of our command that I was completely dazed. Ittook me a moment or two to realize what it all meant, but when I saw myfather's loving eyes and smile it became clear to me that he had riddenby to see if I was safe and to ask how I was getting along. I rememberwell how curiously those with him gazed at me, and I am sure that itmust have struck them as very odd that such a dirty, ragged, unkemptyouth could have been the son of this grand-looking, victoriouscommander. 

"I was introduced recently to a gentleman, now living in Washington, who, when he found out my name, said he had met me once before and thatit was on this occasion. At that time he was a member of the TenthVirginia Infantry, Jackson's division, and was camped near our battery. Seeing General Lee and staff approach, he, with others, drew near tohave a look at them, and witnessed the meeting between father and son. He also said that he had often told of the incident as illustrating thepeculiar composition of our army. "

As we moved on over the battlefield that morning, the number of slain onboth sides was fully in proportion to the magnitude of the conflict ofthe day preceding. In a piece of woods through which we passed, andthrough which the battle had surged back and forth, after carefulobservation I failed to find a tree the size of a man's body with lessthan a dozen bullet-marks on it within six feet of the ground, and manyof them were scarred to the tops. Not even the small saplings hadescaped, yet some of the men engaged had passed through the battleuntouched. I was with my messmate, William Bolling, when he herediscovered and recognized the dead body of his former school-teacher, Wood McDonald, of Winchester. 

On the 28th we crossed the Chickahominy on Grapevine Bridge, the longapproaches to which were made of poles, thence across the York RiverRailroad at Savage Station. As we moved along, fighting was almostconstantly heard in advance of us, and rumors were rife that the trapwas so set as to capture the bulk of McClellan's army. Near White OakSwamp we reached another battlefield, and, after night, went intobivouac among the enemy's dead. About ten o'clock I, with severalothers, was detailed to go back with some wagons, to get a supply ofcaptured ammunition. For four or five miles we jolted over corduroyroads, loaded our wagons, and got back to the battery just before dawnof the following morning. Scarcely had I stretched myself on the groundwhen the bugle sounded reveille, and even those who had spent the nightundisturbed were with difficulty aroused from sleep. I remember seeingCaptain Poague go to a prostrate form that did not respond to thesummons, and call out, "Wake up, wake up!" But, seeing no sign ofstirring, he used his foot to give it a shake, when he discovered he wastrying to rouse a dead Yankee! Having been on duty all night I wasbeing left unmolested to the last moment, when Joe Shaner came to me, asusual, and very quietly rolled up my blanket with his, to be carried onhis off-horse. This was the battlefield of White Oak Swamp, fought onJune 30. Along the march from Cold Harbor we had passed several Federalfield-hospitals containing their sick, some of them in tents, some lyingin bunks made of poles supported on upright forks. These and their oldcamps were infested with vermin--"war bugs, " as we usually calledthem--which, with what we already had after two weeks of constant march, with neither time nor material for a change, made us exceedinglyuncomfortable. 

CHAPTER X

GENERAL JACKSON COMPLIMENTS THE BATTERY--MALVERN HILL--MY VISIT TORICHMOND

On July 1 we passed near the battlefield known as Frazier's Farm, alsofought on June 30 by the divisions of Magruder, Longstreet, and others, and arrived early in the day in front of Malvern Hill. For a mile ormore our road ran through a dense body of woods extending to the highrange of hills occupied by the enemy. At a point where another roadcrossed the one on which we had traveled, and where stood two oldgate-posts, we were ordered to mount the caissons and limbers and troton toward the firing already begun. This order can be attributed to thereputation our battery had made, and is a matter of record, which Iquote: "At Malvern Hill the battery was openly complimented by GeneralJackson in connection with Carpenter's battery. When Gen. D. H. Hillasked General Jackson if he could furnish him a battery which would holda certain position, from which two or three batteries had been driven bythe galling fire of the enemy, he said, 'Yes, two, ' and called forCarpenter and Poague, and General Hill ordered Captain Poague to bringup his battery at once. "

Taking the road to the left, we soon emerged from the woods into awheat-field, the grain standing in shocks. While seated on a caisson, driving down this road at a trot, I was suddenly seized with apresentiment that I was to be killed in this battle, the only time sucha feeling came over me during the war. Finding myself becoming rapidlydemoralized, I felt that, in order to avoid disgrace, I must get downfrom that seat and shake the wretched thing off. So down I jumped andtook it afoot, alongside of the gun, as we passed down a little ravinewhich was being raked from end to end by the enemy's shells. Thediversion worked like a charm, for in two minutes the apprehension toneddown to the normal proportions of "stage fright. " We were soon inposition with our six guns ablaze. The enemy's batteries were posted onconsiderably higher ground, with three times as many guns and of heaviercaliber than ours, which served us the same galling fire that hadwrecked the batteries preceding us. After having been engaged for anhour, a battery posted some two hundred yards to our left was stampededand came by us under whip and spur, announcing, as they passed, thatthey were flanked by Federal cavalry. In the commotion, some one in ourbattery called out that we had orders to withdraw, and, before it couldbe corrected, eight or ten of the company, joining in the rout, beat aretreat to the woods, for which they were afterward punished; somebeing assigned as drivers, and one or two gallant fellows having it everafterward to dim their glory. We soon, however, recovered from theconfusion, but with diminished numbers. I know that for a part of thetime I filled the positions of 7, 5, and 2 at my gun, until a gallantlittle lieutenant named Day, of some general's staff, relieved me ofpart of the work. My brother John, working at the gun next to mine, received a painful shell-wound in the side and had to leave the field. His place was supplied by Doran, an Irishman, and in a few minutesDoran's arm was shattered by a shell, causing him to cry out mostlustily. My brother David, shortly after this, was disabled by a blow onhis arm, and, at my solicitation, left the field. 

I would suggest to any young man when enlisting to select a company inwhich he has no near kindred. The concern as to one's own person affordssufficient entertainment, without being kept in suspense as to who wentdown when a shell explodes in proximity to another member of the family. 

John Fuller, driver at the piece next on my right, was crouched down onhis knees, with his head leaning forward, holding his horses. Seeing alarge shell descending directly toward him, I called to him to look out!When he raised his head, this shell was within five feet of him andgrazed his back before entering the ground close behind him. He wasseverely shocked, and for some days unfit for duty. At the first battleof Fredericksburg, more than a year after this, while holding his horsesand kneeling in the same posture, a shell descending in like mannerstruck him square on his head and passed down through the length of hisbody. A month after the battle I saw all that was left of his cap--themorocco vizor--lying on the ground where he was killed. 

Behind us, scattered over the wheat-field, were a number of looseartillery horses from the batteries that had been knocked out. Takingadvantage of the opportunity to get a meal, one of these stood eatingquietly at a shock of wheat, when another horse came galloping towardhim from the woods. When within about thirty yards of the animalfeeding, a shell burst between the two. The approaching horse instantlywheeled, and was flying for the woods when another shell burst a fewfeet in front of him, turning him again to the field as before; the oldwarrior ate away at his shock, perfectly unconcerned. 

The firing on both sides, especially on ours, was now diminishing--andsoon ceased. In this encounter ten or twelve members of the company werewounded, and Frank Herndon, wheel driver at my caisson, was killed. After remaining quiet for a short time we were ordered back, and againfound ourselves at the cross-roads, near the old gate-posts, whichseemed to be the headquarters of Generals Lee, Jackson and D. H. Hill. 

John Brown, one of our company who had been detailed to care for thewounded, had taken a seat behind a large oak-tree in the edge of thewoods near us. A thirty-two-pound shot struck the tree, and, passingthrough the center of it, took Brown's head entirely off. We spentseveral hours standing in the road, which was filled with artillery, andour generals were evidently at their wits' ends. Toward evening we movedfarther back into the woods, where many regiments of our infantry werein bivouac. The enemy had now turned their fire in this direction. Boththat of their heavy field-pieces and gunboats, and enormous shells andsolid shot, were constantly crashing through the timber, tearing offlimbs and the tops of trees, which sometimes fell among the troops, maiming and killing men. 

After sundown a charge was made against the enemy's left, which wasrepulsed with terrible loss to our men. After this the enemy continuedshelling the woods; in fact their whole front, until ten o'clock atnight. Our battery had moved back at least two miles and gone into parkin a field, where, at short intervals, a large gunboat shell would burstover us, scattering pieces around, while the main part would whirr on, it seemed, indefinitely. 

The next day, the enemy having abandoned Malvern Hill during the night, we made a rapid start in pursuit toward Harrison's Landing, but suddenlycame to a halt and countermarched to a place where several roadscrossed, on all of which were columns of infantry and artillery. Duringthe remainder of the day the soldiers gave vent to their feelings bycheering the different generals as they passed to and fro, Jacksonnaturally receiving the lion's share. 

McClellan's army being now under cover of their gunboats, and gunboatsbeing held in mortal terror by the Confederates, we began slowly to makeour way out of this loathsome place, a place which I felt should becheerfully given up to the Northerners, where they could inhale thepoisonous vapors of the bogs, and prosecute the war in continuous battlewith the mosquitoes and vermin. The water of the few sluggish streams, although transparent, was highly colored by the decaying vegetablematter and the roots of the juniper. For the first time in my life I wasnow out of sight of the mountains. I felt utterly lost, and found myselfrepeatedly rising on tip-toe and gazing for a view of them in thedistance. Being very much worsted physically by the campaign andmalarial atmosphere, I was put on the sick-list, and given permission togo to Richmond to recuperate. 

My entrance into the city contrasted strikingly with that of soldiers Ihad read of after a series of victories in battle. The portable forgebelonging to our battery needed some repairs, which could be made at afoundry in Richmond, and, as no other conveyance was available, I tookpassage on it. So I entered the city, the first I had ever visited, after dark, seated on a blacksmith-shop drawn by four mules. Not havingreceived my eleven dollars a month for a long time, I could not pay ahotel-bill, so I climbed the fence into a wagon-yard, retired to bed ina horse-cart, and slept soundly till daylight. That morning I tookbreakfast with my cousin, Robert Barton, of the First Virginia Cavalry, at his boarding-house. After which, having gotten a sick furlough, hehurried to take the train, to go to his home, and left me feeling veryforlorn. Thinking that I could fare no worse in camp than I would in themidst of the painful surroundings of a hospital, I returned in theafternoon to the battery. The arduous service undergone during the pastthree weeks, or rather three months, had left the men greatly depletedin health and vigor. Many were seriously sick, and those still on dutywere more or less run-down. 

CHAPTER XI

FROM RICHMOND TO GORDONSVILLE--BATTLE OF CEDAR RUN--DEATH OF GENERALWINDER--DESERTERS SHOT--CROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK

At the conclusion of this sojourn in camp, Jackson's command again tookthe march and toiled along the line of the Central Railroad towardGordonsville. I, being sick, was given transportation by rail in afreight-car with a mixture of troops. A week was spent in Louisa County, in the celebrated Green Spring neighborhood, where we fared well. My oldmess, numbering seventeen when I joined it, had by this time beengreatly reduced. My brother John had gotten a discharge from the army, his office of commissioner of chancery exempting him. Gregory, FrankPreston and Stuart had been left in Winchester in the enemy's linesseverely wounded. Singleton had been captured at Port Republic, andothers were off on sick-leave. My bedfellow, Walter Packard, hadcontracted fever in the Chickahominy swamps, from which he soon afterdied. He had been left at the house of a friend in Hanover County, attended by his brother. In his delirium he impatiently rehearsed thenames of his companions, calling the roll of the company over and over. From Green Spring we marched to the neighborhood of Gordonsville, wherewe remained in camp until about the fifth or sixth of August. 

We now heard reports of the approach of the renowned General Pope with"headquarters in the saddle, " along the line of the old Orange andAlexandria Railroad. On August 7, we moved out of camp, going in hisdirection. On the third day's march, being too unwell to foot it, I wasriding in the ambulance. About noon indications in front showed that abattle was at hand. I was excused from duty, but was asked by thecaptain if I would assist in caring for the wounded. This I declined todo. About this time the battery was ordered forward, and, seeing my gunstart off at a trot, I mounted and rode in with it. We had a long hillto descend, from the top of which could be seen and heard thecannonading in front. Then, entering an extensive body of woods, wepassed by the bodies of four infantrymen lying side by side, having justbeen killed by a bursting shell. 

We took position in the road near the corner of an open field with ourtwo Parrott guns and one gun of Carpenter's battery, en echelon, witheach gun's horses and limber off on its left among the trees. Both Capt. Joe Carpenter and his brother, John, who was his first lieutenant, werewith this gun, as was their custom when any one of their guns went intoaction. We soon let the enemy know where we were, and they repliedpromptly, getting our range in a few rounds. 

General Winder, commander of our brigade, dismounted, and, in hisshirt-sleeves, had taken his stand a few paces to the left of my gun andwith his field-glass was intently observing the progress of the battle. We had been engaged less than fifteen minutes when Captain Carpenter wasstruck in the head by a piece of shell, from which, after lingering afew weeks, he died. Between my gun and limber, where General Winderstood, was a constant stream of shells tearing through the trees andbursting close by. While the enemy's guns were changing their positionhe gave some directions, which we could not hear for the surroundingnoise. I, being nearest, turned and, walking toward him, asked what hehad said. As he put his hand to his mouth to repeat the remark, a shellpassed through his side and arm, tearing them fearfully. He fellstraight back at full length, and lay quivering on the ground. He hadissued strict orders that morning that no one, except those detailed forthe purpose, should leave his post to carry off the wounded, inobedience to which I turned to the gun and went to work. He was sooncarried off, however, and died a few hours later. 

The next man struck was Major Snowdon Andrews, afterward colonel ofartillery. While standing near by us a shell burst as it passed him, tearing his clothes and wounding him severely. Though drawn to astooping posture, he lived many years. Next I saw a ricocheting shellstrike Captain Caskie, of Richmond, Virginia, on his seat, which knockedhim eight or ten feet and his red cap some feet farther. He did not getstraightened up until he had overtaken his cap on the opposite side ofsome bushes, through which they had both been propelled. LieutenantGraham, of our battery, also received a painful, though not serious, wound before the day was over. This proved to be a very dangerous placefor officers, but not a private soldier was touched. 

By frequent firing during the campaign the vent of my gun had beenburned to several times its proper size, so that at each discharge anexcess of smoke gushed from it. After the captain's attention was calledto it, it happened that a tree in front, but somewhat out of line, wascut off by a Federal shell just as our gun fired. Supposing the defecthad caused a wild shot, we were ordered to take the gun to the rear, theother gun soon following. We got away at a fortunate time, as the SecondBrigade of Jackson's division was flanked by the enemy and driven overthe place a few minutes later. One company in the Twenty-first VirginiaRegiment lost, in a few minutes, seventeen men killed, besides thosewounded. The flankers, however, were soon attacked by fresh troops, whodrove them back and took a large number of prisoners, who walked andlooked, as they passed, as if they had done their best and had nothingof which to be ashamed. By nightfall the whole of Pope's army had beendriven back, and we held the entire battlefield. This battle was calledCedar Run by the Confederates, and Slaughter's Mountain by the Federals. 

On the following day we retraced our steps and occupied an excellentcamping-ground near Gordonsville. Shortly after our arrival, my brotherDavid, who had been absent on sick-leave, returned from home, bringing alarge mess-chest of delicious edibles, which we enjoyed immensely, having Willie Preston, from Lexington, who had just joined the Collegecompany, to dine with us. From a nearby cornfield we managed to supplyourselves with roasting ears, and the number a young Confederate couldconsume in a day would have been ample rations for a horse. 

While here we had visits from some of our former messmates. One of them, Frank Singleton, after being captured at Port Republic had been taken toFort Warren, where were in confinement as prisoners members of theMaryland legislature, Generals Pillow and Buckner, and others capturedat Fort Donelson. Singleton gave glowing accounts of the "to-do" thatwas made over him, he being the only representative from the army ofStonewall, whose fame was now filling the world. His presence evenbecame known outside of prison-walls, and brought substantial tokens ofesteem and sympathy. 

Gregory, who we supposed had received his death-wound at Winchester inMay, after escaping into our lines spent a day or two with us. Both, however, having gotten discharges, left us--Singleton to go to Kentucky, his native State, to raise a company of cavalry under Morgan, andGregory to become captain of ordnance. 

An extensive move was evidently now on foot, and about August 17th itbegan, proving to be by far the most eventful of that eventful year. Onreaching the Rapidan, a few miles distant, we were ordered to leave allbaggage we could not carry on our backs, and in that August weather wechose to make our burdens light. This was the last we saw of ourbaggage, as it was plundered and stolen by camp-followers and shirkerswho stayed behind. 

Having recuperated somewhat during my stay in camp I had set out, withthe battery, for the march, but a few days of hot sun soon weakened meagain, so I had to be excused from duty, and remain with the wagons. Part of a day with them was sufficient, so I returned to the battery, sick or well. Soon after my return, about sundown, Arthur Robinson, ofBaltimore, whom I had regarded as a sort of dude, brought me a cup ofdelicious tea and several lumps of cut loaf-sugar. Cut loaf-sugar! Whatassociations it awakened and how kindly I felt toward the donor everafterward! As I dropped each lump into the tea I could sympathize withan old lady in Rockbridge County, who eyed a lump of it lovingly andsaid, "Before the war I used to buy that _by the pound_. "

[Illustration: WILLIAM M. WILLSON

(Corporal)]

On the following morning, August 18, Gen. J. E. B. Stuart came dashinginto our camp bareheaded and, for him, very much excited. He had justnarrowly escaped capture by a scouting-party of Federal cavalry at ahouse near Verdiersville, where he had passed the night. Leaving hishat, he mounted and leaped the fence with his horse. His adjutant, however, Major Fitzhugh, in possession of General Lee's instructions toGeneral Stuart, was captured, and thus General Pope informed of the planof campaign. Four days later General Stuart, with a large force ofcavalry, having passed to the rear of the Federal army, captured, atCatlett's Station, General Pope's headquarters wagon with his officialpapers and personal effects. As his plan of campaign was to be governedby General Lee's movements, these papers were not very reliable guides. 

Our stay in this bivouac was only thirty-six hours in duration, butanother scene witnessed in the afternoon leaves an indelible impression. To escape the arduous service to which we had for some time beensubjected, a few, probably eight or ten men, of Jackson's old divisionhad deserted. Of these, three had been caught, one of whom was a memberof the Stonewall Brigade, and they were sentenced by court-martial to beshot. As a warning to others, the whole division was mustered out towitness the painfully solemn spectacle. After marching in columnthrough intervening woods, with bands playing the dead march, we enteredan extensive field. Here the three men, blindfolded, were directed tokneel in front of their open graves, and a platoon of twelve or fifteenmen, half of them with their muskets loaded with ball, and half withblank cartridges (so that no man would feel that he had fired a fatalshot), at the word "Fire!" emptied their guns at close range. Then thewhole division marched by within a few steps to view their lifelessbodies. 

Jackson's object now was to cross the Rappahannock, trying first oneford and then another. We spent most of the following day galloping toand fro, firing and being fired at. At one ford my gun crossed theriver, but, as no support followed it, although the rest of our batteryand Brockenbrough's Maryland Battery were close by, we soon recrossed. Rain during the afternoon and night made the river past fording, catching Early's brigade, which had crossed further up-stream, on theenemy's side. He was not pressed, however, and by the next afternoon thewhole of Jackson's command had crossed the stream by the fords nearerits source, at Hinson's mill. Thence we traveled northwest throughLittle Washington, the county-seat of Rappahannock. Then to Flint Hill, at the base of the Blue Ridge. Then turned southeast into FauquierCounty and through Warrenton, the prettiest town I had seen sinceleaving the Valley. We had made an extensive detour, and were no longerdisturbed by General Pope, who possibly thought Jackson was on his wayto Ohio or New York, and a week later no doubt regretted that one ofthose distant places had not been his destination. 

Before reaching Thoroughfare Gap we had the pleasure of a visit from Mr. Robert Bolling, or rather found him waiting on the roadside to see hisson, of our mess, having driven from his home in the neighborhood. Hisson had been left behind sick, but his messmates did full justice to thebountiful supply of refreshments brought in the carriage for him. Iremember, as we stood regaling ourselves, when some hungry infantrymanwould fall out of ranks, and ask to purchase a "wee bite, " howdelicately we would endeavor to "shoo" him off, without appearing to theold gentleman as the natural heirs to what he had brought for his boy. 

CHAPTER XII

CAPTURE OF RAILROAD TRAINS AT MANASSAS JUNCTION--BATTLE WITH TAYLOR'SNEW JERSEY BRIGADE--NIGHT MARCH BY LIGHT OF BURNING CARS

Our halts and opportunities for rest had been and continued to be fewand of short duration, traveling steadily on throughout the twenty-fourhours. It has been many years since, but how vividly some scenes arerecalled, others vague and the order of succession forgotten. Afterpassing through Thoroughfare Gap we moved on toward Manassas Junction, arriving within a mile or two of the place shortly after dawn, when wecame upon a sleepy Federal cavalryman mounted on a fine young horse. Lieutenant Brown took him and his arms in charge and rode the horse fora few days, but, learning that he had been taken from a farmer in theneighborhood, returned him to his owner. As we approached the Junctionseveral cannon-shots warned us that some force of the enemy was there, but not General Pope, as we had left him many miles in our rear. 

In the regiment of our cavalry, acting as a vanguard, I had but twoacquaintances--old college-mates--and these were the only two membersof the command I met. One of them gave me a loaf of baker's bread, theother presented me with a handful of cigars, and they both informed usthat they had made a big capture, which we would soon see. The samplesthey had brought made us the more anxious. Arriving in sight of theplace, we saw the tracks of both railroads closely covered for half amile with the cars filled with army supplies of every description. Theartillery that had been firing a short time before opened on us again, while we were preparing to help ourselves, but not before one of mymessmates had secured a cup of molasses. With the help of this, my loafof bread was soon devoured, and with a relish contrasting very favorablywith my sudden loss of appetite for the beans at Cedar Creek a fewmonths before. On this occasion we managed to appease our hunger withvery little interruption from the flying shells. The firing, however, was at long range and soon ceased, and we resumed the march, saddened topart with so rich a booty and the opportunity to fill our stomachs andempty haversacks. 

As we moved quietly along with General Jackson and one or two of hisstaff riding at the front of the battery, there suddenly appeared, abouta mile ahead of us, a line of bayonets glistening in the sunlight. As wehalted I heard General Jackson and those about him questioning eachother and speculating as to what troops they could be, whether friendor foe. Their bayonets were evidently too bright for our war-wornweapons, and the direction from which they came and, a little later, thecolor of their uniforms being distinguishable, no longer left room fordoubt. It proved to be a brigade of New Jersey infantry commanded byGeneral Taylor, who had just arrived by rail from Alexandria. Rodes'sdivision was on our left and not three hundred yards distant. As theenemy advanced, Jackson ordered Rodes to halt. The Federal brigade cameup on our right about one hundred and twenty-five yards from us, marching by companies in column. 

Jackson ordered us to fire on them with canister, which we did, and veryrapidly, as they passed. Then, limbering up, we galloped again to theirflank and repeated the operation; meanwhile, one of our batteriesimmediately in their front firing at them with shells. Jackson, whoaccompanied us, then drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, and, waving it up and down, ordered them to surrender, in response to whichone of them raised his gun and fired deliberately at him. I heard theMinie as it whistled by him. After limbering up our guns for the thirdtime to keep in close range, I turned to get my blanket, which I hadleft on the ground while engaged, and, as I ran to overtake the guns, found myself between Rodes's line, which had now advanced, and theFederals, in easy range of each other. I expected, of course, to beriddled with bullets, but neither side fired a shot. 

The Federals moved on in perfect order, then suddenly broke and cameback like a flock of sheep; and, most singular of all, Rodes's divisionwas ordered back and let them pass, we still firing. All in all, it wasa fine sample of a sham battle, as I saw none of them killed and heardthere were very few, and the only shot they fired was the one at GeneralJackson. After crossing a ravine along which ran a creek, they had ahill to ascend which kept them still in full view, while we fired atthem with shells and solid shot as they streamed along the paths. Maupin, a member of our detachment, picked up a canteen of whiskey whichhad been thrown aside in their flight. As it was the only liquid towhich we had access on that hot August day, we each took a turn, andsoon undertook to criticise our gunner's bad shooting, telling him amongother things that if he would aim lower he would do more execution. 

After the enemy had disappeared from our sight, and the battery had goneinto park, I borrowed Sergeant Dick Payne's horse to ride to the creek, over which the enemy had retreated, for a canteen of water. When withina few steps of the branch, I passed two artillerymen from anotherbattery on foot, who were on the same errand, but none of us armed. Wesaw a Yankee infantryman a short distance off, hurrying along with gunon shoulder. We called to him to surrender, and, as I rode to get hisgun, another one following came in sight. When I confronted him andordered him to throw down his gun, he promptly obeyed. The gun, abrand-new one, was loaded, showing a bright cap under the hammer. Theman was a German, and tried hard, in broken English, to explain, eitherhow he had fallen behind, or to apologize for coming to fight us--Icould not tell which. 

We now had full and undisturbed possession of Manassas Junction and ofthe long trains of captured cars, through the doors and openings ofwhich could be seen the United States army supplies of all kinds and ofthe best quality. On a flat car there stood two new pieces of artillerymade of a bronze-colored metal, and of a different style from any we hadyet seen. In our last battle, that of Slaughter's Mountain, we hadnoticed, for the first time, a singular noise made by some of the shellsfired at us, and quite like the shrill note of a tree-frog on a bigscale. Since then we had sometimes speculated as to what new engine ofwar we had to contend with. Here it was, and known as the three-inchrifled gun, a most accurate shooter, and later on much used by bothFederals and Confederates. 

In view of the fact that almost all of the field artillery used by theConfederates was manufactured in the North, a supply for both armiesseemed to have been wisely provided in the number they turned out. Herewe spent the remainder of the day, but not being allowed to plunder thecars did not have the satisfaction of replacing our worn-out garmentswith the new ones in sight. We were very willing to don the blueuniforms, but General Jackson thought otherwise. What we got to eat wasalso disappointing, and not of a kind to invigorate, consisting, as itdid, of hard-tack, pickled oysters, and canned stuff generally. 

Darkness had scarcely fallen before we were again on the march, andbefore two miles had been traveled the surrounding country wasilluminated by the blazing cars and their contents, fired to preventtheir falling again into the hands of their original owners. The entirenight was spent marching through woods and fields, but in what directionwe had no idea. Notwithstanding the strict orders to the contrary, twoof our boys--Billy Bumpus and John Gibbs--had procured from a car abouthalf a bushel of nice white sugar, put it in a sack-bag, and tied itsecurely, they thought, to the axle of a caisson. During the nighteither the bag stretched or the string slipped, letting a corner drag onthe ground, which soon wore a hole. When daylight broke, the first thingthat met their eager gaze was an empty bag dangling in the breeze andvisions of a trail of white sugar mingling with the dust miles behind. Many times afterward, in winter quarters or during apple-dumplingseason, have I heard them lament the loss of that sweetening. 

There are various scenes and incidents on the battlefield, in camp, andon the march which leave an indelible impression. Of these, among themost vivid to me is that of a column of men and horses at dawn of day, after having marched throughout the night. The weary animals, withheads hanging and gaunt sides, put their feet to the ground as softly asif fearing to arouse their drowsy mates or give themselves a jar. A manlooks some years older than on the preceding day, and his haggard faceas if it had been unwashed for a week. Not yet accustomed to the light, and thinking his countenance unobserved, as in the darkness, he makes noeffort to assume an expression more cheerful than in keeping with hissolemn feelings, and, when spoken to, his distressful attempt to smileserves only to emphasize the need of "sore labor's bath. " Vanity, however, seems to prevent each one from seeing in his neighbor's visagea photograph of his own. But, with an hour of sunlight and a halt forbreakfast with a draught of rare coffee, he stands a new creature. Onthe morning after our departure from Manassas Junction, having marchedall night, we had a good illustration of this. 

About seven o'clock we came to a Federal wagon which had upset over abank and was lying, bottom upward, in a ditch below the road. Around itwere boxes and packages of food, desiccated vegetables red with tomatoesand yellow with pumpkin. Here a timely halt was called. Across theditch, near where we went into park, the infantry who had preceded ushad carried from the overturned wagon a barrel of molasses with the headknocked out. Surging around it was a swarm of men with canteens, tincups, and frying-pans--anything that would hold molasses. As each vesselwas filled by a dip into the barrel it was held aloft, to prevent itsbeing knocked from the owner's grasp as he made his way out through thestruggling mass; and woe be to him that was hatless! as the stream thattrickled from above, over head and clothes, left him in a sorry plight. 

CHAPTER XIII

CIRCUITOUS NIGHT MARCH--FIRST DAY OF SECOND MANASSAS--ARRIVAL OFLONGSTREET'S CORPS

Here we halted long enough for a hurried breakfast for men and horses. Sleep did not seem to enter into Jackson's calculations, or time wasregarded as too precious to be allowed for it. We were on the move againby noon and approaching the scene of the battle of July, 1861. This wason Thursday, August 26, 1862, and a battle was evidently to open at anymoment. In the absence of Henry, our gunner, who was sick and off duty, I was appointed to fill his place. And it was one of the few occasions, most probably the only one during the war, that I felt the slightestreal desire to exclaim, with the Corporal at Waterloo, "Let the battlebegin!" About two P. M. We went into position, but, beforefiring a shot, suddenly moved off, and, marching almost in asemi-circle, came up in the rear of the infantry, who were now hotlyengaged. This was the beginning of the second battle of Manassas, duringthe first two days of which, and the day preceding, Jackson's commandwas in great suspense, and, with a wide-awake and active foe, would havebeen in great jeopardy. He was entirely in the rear of the Federalarmy, with only his own corps, while Longstreet had not yet passedthrough Thoroughfare Gap, a narrow defile miles away. The rapid andsteady roll of the musketry, however, indicated that there was no lackof confidence on the part of his men, though the line of battle hadchanged front and was now facing in the opposite direction from the oneheld a few hours before. Moving through a body of woods toward thefiring-line we soon began meeting and passing the stream of wounded menmaking their way to the rear. And here our attention was again called toa singular and unaccountable fact, which was noticed and remarkedrepeatedly throughout the war. It was that in one battle the largemajority of the less serious wounds received were in the same portion ofthe body. In this case, fully three-fourths of the men we met werewounded in the left hand; in another battle the same proportion werewounded in the right hand; while in another the head was the attractivemark for flying bullets, and so on. I venture the assertion that everyold soldier whose attention is called to it will verify the statement. 

The battle was of about two hours in duration, and by sundown the firinghad entirely ceased, the enemy being driven from the field, leavingtheir dead and wounded. The infantry of the Stonewall Brigade had beenin the thickest of it all and had suffered severe loss. 

Willie Preston, of the College company, less than eighteen years ofage, a most attractive and promising youth, received a mortal wound. Hisdying messages were committed to Hugh White, the captain of his company, who, two days later, was himself instantly killed. On the ground wheresome of the heaviest fighting took place there stood a neat log-house, the home of a farmer's family. From it they had, of course, hurriedlyfled, leaving their cow and a half-grown colt in the yard. Both of thesewere killed. I saw, also on this field, a dead rabbit and a deadfield-lark--innocent victims of man's brutality!

A quiet night followed, and, except for those of us who were on guard, the first unbroken rest we had had for almost a week. Next morning, after breakfasting leisurely, we went into position opposite the enemy, occupying a long range of hills too distant for serious damage. But, after we had shelled each other for half an hour, one of our infantryregiments emerged from the woods a short distance to our right and stoodin line of battle most needlessly exposed. In less than five minutes ashell burst among them, killing and wounding eleven men. This over, wemoved to a haystack nearby, where our horses had more than onerefreshing feed during lulls in the battle. It seemed, also, anattractive place for General Jackson, as he was seldom far from it tillthe close of the battle on the following day. 

An hour later, while engaged in another artillery encounter, ourdetachment received a very peremptory and officious order from MajorShoemaker, commanding the artillery of the division. My friend andformer messmate, W. G. Williamson, now a lieutenant of engineers, havingno duty in that line to perform, had hunted us up, and, with his innategallantry, was serving as a cannoneer at the gun. Offended atShoemaker's insolent and ostentatious manner, we answered him as hedeserved. Furious at such impudence and insubordination, he was almostready to lop our heads off with his drawn sword, when Williamsoninformed him that he was a commissioned officer and would see him at thedevil before he would submit to such uncalled-for interference. 

"If you are a commissioned officer, " Shoemaker replied, "why are youhere, working at a gun?"

"Because I had not been assigned to other duty, " was Williamson's reply, "and I chose to come back, for the time being, with my old battery. "

"Then I order you under arrest for your disrespect to a superiorofficer!" said Shoemaker. 

The case was promptly reported to General Jackson, and Williamson aspromptly released. The bombastic major had little idea that among themen he was so uselessly reprimanding was a son of General Lee, as wellas Lieutenant Williamson, who was a nephew of Gen. Dick Garnett, who waslater killed in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. This episode over, weagain drove to the haystack. 

These repeated advances and attacks made by the enemy's artilleryplainly showed that they realized that our situation was a hazardousone, of which we, too, were fully aware, and unless Longstreet shouldsoon show up we felt that the whole of Pope's army would soon be uponus. While quietly awaiting developments, we heard the sound of a horse'shoofs, and, as a courier galloped up to General Jackson, to announceLongstreet's approach, the cloud of red dust raised by his vanguard inthe direction of Thoroughfare Gap assured us that he would soon be athand. Before he reached the field, however, and while we were enjoyingthe sense of relief at his coming, one of the enemy's batteries hadquietly and unobserved managed to get into one of the positions occupiedby our battery during the morning. Their first volley, coming from suchan unexpected quarter, created a great commotion. Instantly we gallopedto their front and unlimbered our guns at close range. Other of ourbatteries fired a few shots, but soon ceased, all seeming intent onwitnessing a duel between the two batteries of four guns each. Theirposition was the more favorable, as their limbers and caissons werebehind the crest of the hill, while we were on level ground with oursfully exposed. Each man worked as if success depended on his individualexertions, while Captain Poague and Lieutenant Graham galloped back andforth among the guns, urging us to our best efforts. Our antagonists gotour range at once, and, with their twelve-pound Napoleon guns, pouredin a raking fire. One shell I noticed particularly as it burst, andwaited a moment to observe its effects as the fragments tore by. One ofthem struck Captain Poague's horse near the middle of the hip, tearingan ugly hole, from which there spurted a stream of blood the size of aman's wrist. To dismount before his horse fell required quick work, butthe captain was equal to the occasion. Another shell robbed HenryBoteler of the seat of his trousers, but caused the shedding of noblood, and his narrow escape the shedding of no tears, although the losswas a serious one. Eugene Alexander, of Moorefield, had his thigh-bonebroken and was incapacitated for service. Sergeant Henry Payne, asplendid man and an accomplished scholar, was struck by a solid shotjust below the knee and his leg left hanging by shreds of flesh. An hourlater, when being lifted into an ambulance, I heard him ask if his legcould not be saved, but in another hour he was dead. 

After an hour of spirited work, our antagonists limbered up and hurriedoff, leaving us victors in the contest. Lieutenant Baxter McCorklegalloped over to the place to see what execution we had done, and foundseveral dead men, as many or more dead horses, and one of their caissonsas evidences of good aim; and brought back with him a fine army-pistolleft in the caisson. When the affair was over, I found myself exhaustedand faint from over-exertion in the hot sun. Remembering that mybrother David had brought along a canteen of vinegar, gotten in the bigcapture of stores a few days before, and, thinking a swallow of it wouldrevive me, I went to him and asked him to get it for me. Before I wasdone speaking, the world seemed to make a sudden revolution and turnblack as I collapsed with it. My brother, thinking I was shot, hurriedfor the vinegar, but found the canteen, which hung at the rear of acaisson, entirely empty; it, too, having been struck by a piece ofshell, and even the contents of the little canteen demanded by thisinsatiable plain. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE SECOND BATTLE OF MANASSAS--INCIDENTS AND SCENES ON THE BATTLEFIELD

These encounters were the preludes to the great battle for which bothsides were preparing, almost two days having already been spent inmaneuvering and feeling each other's lines. The afternoon, however, passed quietly with no further collisions worthy of mention. Thefollowing day, Saturday, was full of excitement. It was the third andlast of this protracted battle, and the last for many a brave soldier inboth armies. 

The shifting of troops began early, our battery changing positionseveral times during the forenoon. Neither army had buried its dead ofthe first day's battle. We held the ground on which were strewn thecorpses of both Blue and Gray, in some places lying side by side. Thehot August sun had parched the grass to a crisp, and it was frequentlyignited by bursting shells. In this way the clothes of the dead weresometimes burned off, and the bodies partially roasted! Such spectaclesmade little or no impression at the time, and we moved to and fro overthe field, scarcely heeding them. 

About two o'clock we were ordered some distance forward, to fire on abattery posted on a low ridge near a piece of woods. By skirting along abody of woods on our left, and screened by it, we came out in full viewof this battery and on its right flank. My gun, being in front and thefirst seen by them, attracted their whole fire; but most of their shellspassed over our heads and burst among the guns in our rear and among thetrees. None of us was hurt, and in a few minutes all four of our gunswere unlimbered and opened on them most vigorously. In five or sixrounds their guns ceased firing and were drawn by hand from the crest ofthe ridge entirely out of view and range. 

As we stood by our guns, highly satisfied with our prowess, GeneralJackson came riding up to the first detachment and said, "That washandsomely done, very handsomely done, " then passed on to the otherdetachments and to each one addressed some complimentary remark. In halfan hour we were again at our rendezvous, the haystack, and he at hisheadquarters, and all quiet. But this time it was the calm before thereal storm. 

Across the open plains on which we stood, and some three hundred yardsdistant from us, was an extensive body of woods in which Longstreet'scorps had quietly formed in line of battle. In front of this was openground, sloping gently for one-fourth of a mile, and on its crest theenemy's line of battle. To our left another large body of woods extendedtoward our front, and concealed the movements of both armies from viewin that direction. General Jackson had dismounted from his horse and wassitting on the rail-fence, and ours and one or two other batteries werein bivouac close by, and all as calm and peaceful as if the armies werein their respective winter quarters, when a roar and crash of musketrythat was almost deafening burst forth in the woods in our immediatefront, and a shower of Minie-bullets whistled through the air, strikinghere and there about us. Instantly everything was astir, with anoccasional lamentation or cry of pain from some wounded man. GeneralJackson mounted his horse hurriedly. The fighting soon became generalthroughout the lines, in portions of it terrific. General Pope, aftertwo days of preparation, had advanced his lines and made the attackinstead of receiving it, as our lines were on the eve of advancing. 

A projected but uncompleted railroad, with alternating cuts andembankments, afforded a splendid line of defense to our infantry on theleft. The most continued and persistent fighting was where it began, onthat portion of the line held by Jackson's old division. In the courseof an hour the attack was repulsed and a counter-charge made, but, judging from the number of dead the enemy left on the field, and therapidity of their pursuit, the Confederates met with but littleresistance thereafter. 

An attack had been made on Longstreet's corps at the same time, whichmet with the same ill success, and was followed by a counter-charge. Iremember our noticing the high range of hills in front of Longstreet, completely commanding, as it did, the intervening ground, and some oneremarking, while the charge was in progress, that it seemed impossibleto carry it. But the reserves who occupied this high ground made butlittle resistance, and, joining those who had been repulsed, all fledhurriedly from the field. As soon as the retreat of the Federal armybegan, active participation in the battle by the artillery ceased. Wejoined in the pursuit, which was brought to a close soon after it beganby approaching night. 

In crossing a field in the pursuit, a short distance from our gun, Ipassed near a young infantryman lying entirely alone, with histhigh-bone broken by a Minie-bullet. He was in great distress of mindand body, and asked me most pleadingly to render him some assistance. IfI could do nothing else, he begged that I should find his brother, whobelonged to Johnston's battery, of Bedford County, Virginia. I told himI could not leave my gun, etc. , which gave him little comfort; but hetold me his name, which was Ferguson, and where his home was. Fortunately, however, I happened on Johnston's battery soon after, andsent his brother to him. I heard nothing further of him until five yearslater--two years after the war--when I was on a visit to some relativesin Bedford County. As we started to church in Liberty one Sunday morningI recalled the incident and mentioned it to my aunt's family, and wasinformed that Ferguson was still alive, had been very recently married, and that I would probably see him that morning at church. And, sureenough, I was scarcely seated in church when he came limping in and tooka seat near me. I recognized him at once, but, fearing he had notforgotten what he felt was cruel indifference in his desperatesituation, did not renew our acquaintance. 

[Illustration: W. S. MCCLINTIC]

After parting with him on the battlefield and overtaking my gun, ourroute for a time was through the enemy's dead and wounded of the battlewhich took place two days before, who had been lying between the twoarmies, exposed to the hot sun since that time. While taking a moredirect route, as the battery was winding around an ascent, my attentionwas called to a Federal soldier of enormous size lying on the ground. His head was almost as large as a half-bushel and his face a dark-bluecolor. I supposed, as a matter of course, that he was dead, andconsidered him a curiosity even as a dead man. But, while standing nearhim, wondering at the size of the monster, he began to move, and turnedas if about to rise to his feet. Thinking he might succeed, I hurried onand joined my gun. 

Here we had a good opportunity of observing the marked and strikingdifference between the Federals and Confederates who remained unburiedfor twenty-four hours or more after being killed. While the Confederatesunderwent no perceptible change in color or otherwise, the Federals, onthe contrary, became much swollen and discolored. This was, of course, attributable to the difference in their food and drink. And while someConfederates, no doubt for want of sufficient food, fell by the waysideon the march, the great majority of them, owing to their simple fare, could endure, and unquestionably did endure, more hardship than theFederals who were overfed and accustomed to regular and full rations. 

Our following in the pursuit was a mere form, as the enemy had beendriven by our infantry from all of their formidable positions, andnight, as usual in such cases, had put a stop to further pursuit. As wecountermarched, to find a suitable camping-ground, great care had to betaken in the darkness to avoid driving over the enemy's wounded who layalong the course of our route. I remember one of them especially, in anarrow place, was very grateful to me for standing near him andcautioning the drivers as they passed by. 

On the next day, Sunday, August 31, after three days of occupation suchas I have described, we were not averse to a Sabbath-day's rest, whichalso gave us the opportunity of reviewing at leisure the events andresults of our experience, and going over other portions of thebattlefield. Looking to the right front, spread out in full view, wasthe sloping ground over which Longstreet had fought and driven hisantagonists. The extensive area presented the appearance of an immenseflower-garden, the prevailing blue thickly dotted with red, the colorof the Federal Zouave uniform. In front of the railroad-cut, and notmore than fifty yards from it, where Jackson's old division had beenattacked, at least three-fourths of the men who made the charge had beenkilled, and lay in line as they had fallen. I looked over and examinedthe ground carefully, and was confident that I could have walked aquarter of a mile in almost a straight line on their dead bodies withoutputting a foot on the ground. By such evidences as this, our minds hadbeen entirely disabused of the idea that "the Northerners would notfight. "

It was near this scene of carnage that I also saw two hundred or morecitizens whose credulity under General Pope's assurance had brought themfrom Washington and other cities to see "Jackson bagged, " and enjoy agala day. They were now under guard, as prisoners, and respondedpromptly to the authority of those who marched them by at a lively pace. This sample of gentlemen of leisure gave an idea of the material theNorth had in reserve, to be utilized, if need be, in future. 

During the three days--28th, 29th and 30th--the official reports givethe Federal losses as 30, 000, the Confederates as 8, 000. On each ofthese days our town of Lexington had lost one of her most promisingyoung men--Henry R. Payne, of our battery; Hugh White, captain of theCollege company, and Willie Preston, a private in the same company, anoble young fellow who had had the fortitude and moral courage, at therequest of President Junkin, to pull down the palmetto flag hoisted bythe students over Washington College. We remained about Manassas onlylong enough for the dead to be buried. 

The suffering of the wounded for want of attention, bad enough at best, in this case must have been extraordinary. The aggregate of wounded ofthe two armies, Confederate and Federal, exceeded 15, 000 in number. Thesurrounding country had been devastated by war until it was practicallya desert. The railroad bridges and tracks, extending from the Rapidan inOrange County to Fairfax, a distance of fifty miles, had been destroyed, so that it would require several weeks before the Confederates couldreach the hospitals in Richmond and Charlottesville, and then inbox-cars, over rough, improvised roads. Those of the Federal army werecut off in like manner from their hospitals in the North. In addition toall this, the surgeons and ambulances and their corps continued withtheir respective commands, to meet emergencies of like nature, to berepeated before the September moon had begun to wane. 

CHAPTER XV

BATTLE OF CHANTILLY--LEESBURG--CROSSING THE POTOMAC

After such prolonged marching and such a victory as the second Manassaswe hoped for a rest so well earned; at any rate, we imagined that therewas no enemy near inclined to give battle; but on Monday, September 1, we were again on the march, which continued far into the night, it beingnear daylight when we went into park. The latter part of the way I rodeon a caisson, seated by a companion, and so entirely overcome with sleepas to be unable to keep my eyes open five seconds at a time, noddingfrom side to side over the wheels. My companion would rouse me and tellme of my danger, but shame, danger, and all were of no avail till, waking for the fortieth time, I found my hat was gone. I jumped down, went back a short distance, and found my old drab fur, of Lexingtonmake, flat in the road, having been trampled over by several teams andgunwheels. 

After a halt of a few hours we were again on the move, and soon foundourselves in Fairfax County. About noon we passed by "Chantilly, " thehome of my messmate, Wash. Stuart, whom we had left desperately woundedat Winchester. The place, a beautiful country residence, was desertednow. Stuart, though, was somewhere in the neighborhood, a paroledprisoner, and on his return to us the following winter told us of theefforts he had made to find us near "The Plains" with a feast of wines, etc. , for our refreshment. Two or three miles from Chantilly short andfrequent halts and cautious advances warned us that there were breakersahead. Then the pop, pop, pop! of a skirmish-line along the edge of awood in our front brought back again those nervous pulsations in theregion of the stomach which no amount of philosophy or will-power seemedable to repress. 

The battery kept straight on in the road and through the woods, theenemy's skirmishers having fallen back to our right. We halted where theroad began to descend, waiting until a place suitable for action couldbe found. Up to this time there was only infantry skirmishing, not acannon having been fired on either side, when, as we stood quietly byour guns, a Federal shell burst in our midst with a tremendous crash. None of us heard the report of the gun that sent it, or knew from whatdirection it came, but the accuracy with which we had been located inthe dense forest was not comforting. 

Soon after this, our attention was attracted by the approach, along theroad in our front, of ten or twelve horsemen, riding leisurely towardus, one of whom bore a banner of unusually large size. As they passed, the most conspicuous figure in the party was a Federal officer in newuniform, and several other prisoners, escorted by a guard of ourcavalry. The banner was the flag of New York State, with the field ofwhite satin emblazoned with the coat-of-arms of the Empire State, andall elaborately decorated with flowing cords and tassels. 

After remaining here for an hour, and our officers finding no openground for battle, and no enemy in sight except some videttes whosaluted us with an occasional Minie-ball, we countermarched one-halfmile in a drenching rain and went into park. Meanwhile, a brisk musketryfire had extended along the infantry lines, and soon after halting oneof our battery horses fell dead, struck by one of their stray bullets. It was during this contest, in the pouring rain, that General Jackson, on receiving a message from a brigadier that his ammunition was wet, andhe feared he could not hold on, replied, "Tell him to hold his ground. If his guns will not go off, neither will the enemy's. "

Before the firing ceased, which continued through the twilight, Major-General Kearny, mistaking a line of Confederates for his own men, rode almost into their midst before discovering his error. He wheeledhis horse, and, as he dashed off, leaning forward on the horse's neck, received a bullet in his back and fell dead upon the field. Next dayhis body was returned to his friends under flag of truce. 

From Chantilly, or Ox Hill, as this battle was called by Confederatesand Federals, respectively, we reached Leesburg, the county-seat, by amarch of thirty miles due north into Loudoun County, and a mile or twoeast of this attractive town went into bivouac about sunset in abeautiful grassy meadow which afforded what seemed to us a downy couch, and to the horses luxuriant pasturage, recalling former and better days. Next morning, while lying sound asleep wrapped in my blanket, I becamepainfully conscious of a crushing weight on my foot. Opening my eyes, there stood a horse almost over me, quietly cropping the grass, with oneforefoot planted on one of mine. Having no weapon at hand, I motionedand yelled at him most lustily. Being the last foot put down, it was thelast taken up, and, turning completely around, he twisted the blanketaround the calks of his shoe, stripped it entirely off of me, anddragged it some yards away. There being no stones nor other missilesavailable, I could only indulge in a storm of impotent rage, but, notwithstanding the trampling I had undergone, was able "to keep up withthe procession. "

The morning was a beautiful one, the sun having just risen in a clearsky above the mists overhanging and marking the course of the Potomac amile to the east, and lighting up the peaks of the Blue Ridge to thewest. The country and scenery were not unlike, and equal to theprettiest parts of the Valley. Circling and hovering overhead, callingand answering one another in their peculiarly plaintive notes, as ifdisturbed by our presence, were the gray plover, a bird I had neverbefore seen. All in all, the environment was strikingly peaceful andbeautiful, and suggestive of the wish that the Federals, whom we hadliterally whipped out of their boots and several other articles ofattire, and who had now returned to their own country, would remainthere, and allow us the same privilege. 

But General Lee took a different view of it, and felt that the desiredobject would be more effectually accomplished by transferring the warinto their own territory. So before noon we were again "trekking, " andthat, too, straight for the Potomac. Orders had again been issuedforbidding the cannoneers riding on the caissons and limbers; but, incrossing the Potomac that day, as the horses were in better shape andthe ford smooth, Captain Poague gave us permission to mount and rideover dry-shod. For which breach of discipline he was put under arrestand for several days rode--solemn and downcast--in rear of the battery, with the firm resolve, no doubt, that it was the last act of charity ofwhich he would be guilty during the war. Lieutenant Graham was incommand. 

CHAPTER XVI

MARYLAND--MY DAY IN FREDERICK CITY

We were now in Maryland, September 5, 1862. From accounts generally, andmore particularly from the opinions expressed by the Maryland members ofour battery, we were in eager anticipation of seeing the wholepopulation rise to receive us with open arms, and our depleted ranksswelled by the younger men, impatient for the opportunity to help toachieve Southern independence. The prospect of what was in store for uswhen we reached Baltimore, as pictured by our boys from that city, filled our minds with such eager yearnings that our impatience to rushin could scarcely be restrained. On the evening of our arrival withinthe borders of the State, with several companions, I took supper at thehouse of a Southern sympathizer, who said much to encourage our faith. 

In a day or two we were approaching Frederick City. Strict orders hadbeen issued against foraging or leaving the ranks, but Steve Dandridgeand I determined to take the bit in our teeth and endeavor to do thetown for one day at all hazards. Knowing the officers and provost-guardswould be on the alert and hard to evade after the town was reached, weconcluded, in order to be safe from their observation, to accomplishthat part of our plan beforehand. A field of corn half a mile from thecity afforded us good cover till well out of sight. Then, by "takingjudicious advantage of the shrubbery, " we made our way into a quiet partof the city, and, after scaling a few picket fences, came out into across-street remote from the line of march. Steve was the fortunatepossessor of a few dollars in greenbacks, my holdings being of a likesum in Confederate scrip. 

As previously mentioned, our extra baggage--and extra meant all savethat worn on our backs--had been left weeks before near the banks of theRapidan, so that our apparel was now in sad plight. Dandridge had losthis little cadet-cap while on a night march, and supplied its place fromthe head of a dead Federal at Manassas, his hair still protrudingfreely, and burnt as "brown as a pretzel bun. " The style of my hat wason the other extreme. It had been made to order by a substantial hatterin Lexington, enlisted, and served through the war on one head afteranother. It was a tall, drab-colored fur of conical shape, with severalrows of holes punched around the crown for ventilation. I still wore thelead-colored knit jacket given me by "Buck" Ranson during the Bankscampaign. This garment was adorned with a blue stripe near the edges, buttoned close at the throat, and came down well over the hips, fittingafter the manner of a shirt. My trousers, issued by the ConfederateQuartermaster Department, were fashioned in North Carolina, of areddish-brown or brick-dust color, part wool and part cotton, elaboratein dimensions about the hips and seat, but tapering and small at thefeet, in imitation, as to shape and color, of those worn by BillyWilson's Zouaves at first Manassas. This is an accurate description ofour apparel. Among our fellow-soldiers it attracted no especialattention, as there were many others equally as striking. Verynaturally, we were at first eyed with suspicion by the people we met, and when we inquired for a place to get refreshments were directed "downyonder"; in fact anywhere else than where we were. 

We soon found a nice little family grocery-store; that is, one kept by afamily, including among others two very comely young women. Here wefound O'Rourke, an Irishman of our company, who had a talent for nosingout good things--both solids and liquids. We were served with a goodrepast of native wine, bread, butter, etc. ; and, in case we should nothave leisure for milder beverages, had a canteen filled with whiskey. 

While enjoying our agreeable cheer, a man about thirty years of age camein, he said, to make our acquaintance. He was quite a sharp-lookingfellow, with small, keen black eyes, a "glib" tongue, and told us thathe was an out-and-out rebel, proud to meet us and ready to oblige. Steveforthwith proposed, as evidence of his good-will, an exchange ofheadgear. He dilated eloquently on the historic value of his own cap, and, while it did not entirely suit him, exposed as he was to theweather, it would be becoming to a city gentleman, besides reviving themost pleasant associations as a souvenir; and, moreover, the hat thestranger wore was most suitable for a soldier and would do good serviceto the cause. At length the exchange was made and, Steve having donnedthe nice black hat, we took our leave. We had scarcely walked a squarewhen our attention was attracted by the sound of rapid footstepsapproaching from the rear, and, turning, we saw our new and interestingacquaintance coming at a run. As he passed us, with a high bound heseized the hat from Dandridge's head, threw the cap on the pavement, anddisappeared like a flash around the corner. 

While seated in a confectionery, enjoying a watermelon we had purchasedat a nearby fruitstand, a gentleman came in and insisted on presentingus with a bottle of blackberry brandy, which he recommended as anexcellent tonic. We declined his offer, a little suspicious as to thenature of the liquor, but, as he accepted our invitation to partake ofour melon, we compromised by joining him in a drink of the brandy, andfound it so palatable we regretted not having accepted his proposedpresent of the whole bottle. Here, with boyish delight, we laid in asupply of confectionery. 

Passing along the street soon after this, we were accosted by avenerable-looking gentleman, who stopped us and inquired, verymodestly, if there was any way in which he could be of service to us. Wecould suggest none. He then intimated that we might be a little short ofcurrent funds. We could not deny that our funds were somewhat short andnot very current. He offered us some greenbacks, of which we accepted adollar, asking him to try one of our Confederate dollars instead, whichhe declined to do, but expressed the hope, in a very delicate way, thatall of the Confederate soldiers would so conduct themselves as to showthe Marylanders of Union proclivities what gentlemen they really were. 

Our next experience was rather trying, for me at least, as events willshow. Dandridge remembered that he had a lady friend in the city, andproposed that we hunt her up and pay a call. We discussed the subject, Ithinking such assurance out of the question; but he said he knew her"like a book, " that she had visited at "The Bower, " his family home;would excuse our appearance, and be charmed to see us. He knew that, when in Frederick City, she visited at a Mr. Webster's, whose handsomeresidence we succeeded in locating, and were soon at the door. The bellwas answered by a tall, dignified-looking gentleman of about forty-fiveyears, with a full brown beard, who, standing in the half-open door, looked inquiringly as to the object of our visit. Dandridge asked ifMiss---- was in. He replied she was, and waited as if inclined to ask, "What business is that of yours?" Dandridge cut the interview short bysaying, "My name is Dandridge, and I wish to see her. Come in, Ned. " Wewalked in, and were asked to be seated in the hall. PresentlyMiss---- appeared. She seemed at first, and doubtless was, somewhatsurprised. Dandridge, though, was perfectly natural and at ease, introduced me as if I were a general, and rattled away in his usualstyle. She informed him that another of his lady friends was in thehouse, and left us to bring her in. To me the situation was not of thekind I had been seeking and, rising, I said, "Steven, if you have timebefore the ladies return to manufacture a satisfactory explanation of myabsence, do so; otherwise, treat the matter as if you had come alone, "and I vanished. Dandridge was invited to remain to dinner, wassumptuously feasted and entertained by the host, and to my astonishmentbrought me a special invitation to return with him the following day anddine with the household. Other engagements, however, prevented my going. 

About four P. M. I met Joe Shaner, of Lexington, and of our battery, onthe street. His gun having met with some mishap the day previous, hadfallen behind, and had now just come up and passed through the town. Joewas wofully dejected, and deplored missing, as one would have imagined, the opportunity of his life--a day in such a city, teeming with all thatwas good. But little time now remained before evening roll-call, wheneach must give an account of himself. He was hungry, tired, and warm, and I felt it my duty to comfort him as far as possible. I asked him howhe would like a taste of whiskey. "It's just what I need, " was his quietreply, and before I had time to get the strap off of my shoulder hedropped on one knee on the curb-stone and had my canteen upside down tohis mouth, oblivious of those passing by. He had no money, but, being amessmate, I invested the remnant of my change for his benefit, but foundit necessary to include a weighty watermelon, to make out his load tocamp. 

The next acquaintance I met was George Bedinger, whom I found, clad _àla mode_, standing in a hotel-door with an expression of calmsatisfaction on his face. As I came up to him, carrying my recentpurchases tied in a bandana handkerchief, and stood before him, hescanned me from head to foot, said not a word, but fell back with a roarof laughter. Gay, brilliant Bedinger, whose presence imparted anelectric touch to those around him; I shall ne'er see his like again!

The sun was now setting; camp was two miles away. Thither I set out, cheered by the assurance that, whatever punishment befell, I had had aday. Arriving there, my apprehensions were relieved, possibly becauseoffenses of the kind were too numerous to be handled conveniently. Aboutdusk that evening a free fight between the members of our company andthose of Raines's battery, of Lynchburg, was with difficulty preventedby the officers of the companies, who rushed in with their sabers. TheAlleghany Roughs, hearing the commotion, one of their men cried out, "Old Rockbridge may need us! Come on, boys, let's see them through!" Andon they came. 

We spent two or three days in a clean, fresh camp in this fertilecountry, supplied with an abundance of what it afforded. At noon eachday apple-dumplings could be seen dancing in the boiling camp-kettles, with some to spare for a visitor, provided he could furnish his ownplate. 

On the tenth came orders "to hitch up, " but to our surprise anddisappointment we turned back in the direction from which we had come, instead of proceeding toward Baltimore and Washington, and therealization of our bright hopes. We crossed the Potomac at Williamsport, thirty miles northwest, but not dry-shod. Thence southwest intoJefferson County, West Virginia. 

CHAPTER XVII

RETURN TO VIRGINIA--INVESTMENT AND CAPTURE OF HARPER'S FERRY

At Harper's Ferry there was a considerable force of the enemy, whichplace was now evidently the object of the expedition, and which weapproached soon after noon on the thirteenth. After the usual delaysrequired in getting troops deployed, our battery was posted on anelevated ridge northwest of Bolivar Heights, the stronghold of theFederals, and confronting their bold array of guns directed toward us. 

We opened fire and were answered, but without apparent effect on eitherside. This was late in the afternoon, and night came on before anythingwas accomplished. The situation of Harper's Ferry is too well known torequire description. Only by a view of its surroundings from someadjacent eminence can one form an idea of its beauty. As we stood by ourguns on the morning of the fifteenth we were aware of what had been inprogress for the investment of the place, and now, that having beenaccomplished, we awaited with interest the general assault that was soonto follow. 

Directly on the opposite side of Bolivar Heights from where we stoodwas Loudoun, or Virginia Heights, the extreme north end of the BlueRidge in Virginia, at the base of which flowed the Shenandoah River, andnow held by our artillery, as were also Maryland Heights, across thePotomac, while various lines of infantry lay concealed along the banksof both rivers and intervening valleys, completely enveloping theFederal position. 

The morning was still and clear, giving us a full view of the lines ofthe lofty mountains. Simultaneously the great circle of artilleryopened, all firing to a common center, while the clouds of smoke, rolling up from the tops of the various mountains, and the thunder ofthe guns reverberating among them, gave the idea of so many volcanoes. 

The fire of the Federals in the unequal contest made no perceptibleimpression, not even on the lines of infantry which had begun closing infrom all sides for the final charge. Before they (the infantry) werewithin musket range, a horseman bearing a large piece of tent-clothswept along the crest of Bolivar Heights. The doubtful color of the flagdisplayed prevented an immediate cessation of the Confederate fire. Itproved to be in token of surrender, but after its appearance I saw ashot from our second piece strike so near a horseman riding at speedalong the heights as to envelop horse and rider in its smoke and dust. 

The whole affair, devoid, as it was, of ordinary danger, was one ofthrilling interest. Our commanding position gave us a full view of theextensive and varied terrain, a thing of rare occurrence to other thangeneral officers. In addition to this, the fact that we had defeated ourantagonists, usually in superior numbers, in battle after battlethroughout a long campaign, tended to confirm us in the opinion that wecould down them every time, and that the contest must, at no distantday, end in our favor. The number of troops surrendered was 11, 500, withseventy-three pieces of artillery, sufficient to supply our batteriesfor some time. It was comparatively a bloodless victory, though thecommanding officer, Colonel Miles, was killed at the last moment, andthe terms of surrender arranged by General White, who had fallen back tothis place from Martinsburg. I saw their artillery as it was driven outand turned over to us, supplied with most excellent equipments, andhorses sleek and fat. 

As some time would be consumed in handling the prisoners and thetransfer of arms and stores, I set out in the afternoon for Charlestown, and, as usual, went to my friends--the Ransons. After a refreshing bathI donned a clean white shirt and a pair of light-checked trousers, andwas ready to discuss the events of the campaign with General LindsayWalker, who was also a guest of the house. About nine o'clock at night Iwas joined by Dandridge, who had been met in the town by his mother andsisters from "The Bower, " and, with light hearts and full haversacks, we set out for camp seven miles distant. 

[Illustration: D. GARDINER TYLER]

The Ranson family has several times been mentioned in these pages, astheir home was a place where, when hungry, I was fed and, when naked, clothed. The oldest son, Tom, now a lawyer in Staunton, Virginia, was myschoolfellow and classmate at college when a boy in Lexington. Afterreceiving a wound at Cross Keys in June, 1862, when a lieutenant in theFifty-second Virginia Regiment, which incapacitated him for furtherservice in the infantry, he enlisted in the cavalry. By reason of hisfamiliarity with the topography of the country about Harper's Ferry andthe lower portion of the Valley, together with his indomitable pluck andsteady nerve, he was often employed as a scout, and in this capacityfrequently visited his home near Charlestown. The residence, situated, as it was, a quarter of a mile from and overlooking the town, wasapproached by a wide avenue leading by a gentle ascent to the frontgate, which stood about seventy-five yards from the house. Owing to thecommanding view thus afforded, it was a favorite place for a Federalpicket-post, so that, while a dangerous place for a rebel soldier toventure, it offered many facilities for obtaining valuable information. On one occasion young Ranson spent three days in this home while theFederal pickets were on constant watch day and night at the front gateopening into the lawn, and went in and out of the house at theirconvenience. Moreover, the negro servants of the family knew of "MarseTom's" presence, but looked and acted negro ignorance to perfection whencatechised. 

When standing at a front window one afternoon Tom saw a lady friend ofthe family approaching the house from the town. On reaching the frontgate she, of course, was stopped by the sentinel and, after a parley, refused admittance and required to retrace her steps. Two hours later, much to their surprise, she appeared in the family-room and sank downcompletely exhausted, having entered the house by a rear door, which shehad reached after making a detour of a mile or more to escape thevigilance of the videttes in front. After recovering breath sheunburdened herself of her load, which consisted, in part, of a pair oflong-legged cavalry boots, late issues of Northern newspapers, etc. Thisload she had carried suspended from her waist and concealed under thelarge hoop-skirt then worn by ladies. The newspapers and information oflarge bodies of Federal troops being hurried by rail past Harper's Ferrywere delivered by young Ranson to General Lee on the following day. 

Throughout the preceding day, while occupied about Harper's Ferry, weheard heavy cannonading across the Maryland border, apparently eight orten miles from us. This had increased in volume, and by sunset hadevidently advanced toward us, as the sound of musketry was distinctlyheard. It proved to be an attack on Gen. D. H. Hill's division and othercommands occupying the South Mountain passes. After stubborn resistancethe Confederates had been forced to yield. So on reaching camp towardmidnight, after our visit to Charlestown, we were not surprised to findthe battery preparing to move. With scarcely an hour's delay we wereagain on the march, heading for Maryland. We arrived at Shepherdstownbefore dawn, and while halting in the road for half an hour Henry Lewis, driver at my gun, overcome with sleep, fell sprawling from his horse, rousing those about him from a similar condition. 

CHAPTER XVIII

INTO MARYLAND AGAIN--BATTLE OF SHARPSBURG--WOUNDED--RETURN TOWINCHESTER--HOME

Half a mile below the town we forded the Potomac for the third time, andby the middle of the afternoon were on the outskirts of Sharpsburg, fourmiles from the river. On the opposite, or east, side of this village areAntietam creek and valley; a mile from the creek and parallel to it wasa heavily wooded mountain. It is not my design to attempt a descriptionof the battle which was fought on this ground on the following day, generally conceded to have been the fiercest of the war, but only tomention what came under my observation or was especially associatedtherewith. 

The unusual activity and aggressiveness on the part of GeneralMcClellan, as evidenced by the fierce attacks made on our forces in theSouth Mountain passes for the two preceding days, were explained by hisbeing in possession of General Lee's order to his subordinates. Thisorder, or a copy of it, which contained directions for the movements ofthe various portions of the Confederate army, including the investmentof Harper's Ferry, had been lost or disposed of by some one inFrederick City, and when this place was occupied, on September 13, bythe Federals, was delivered to General McClellan. Thus acquainted withthe location and movements of each division of the Confederate army, which was scattered over a wide territory and separated by a river andrugged mountains, it seems surprising that with his army of 90, 000 menhe should not have practically destroyed General Lee's army of 40, 000. General Lee, however, was informed early on the morning of thefourteenth that a copy of his order had fallen into the hands of GeneralMcClellan. 

This was done by a citizen of Frederick City who happened to be presentwhen General McClellan received it and heard him express satisfactionover such a stroke of luck. This citizen at once went to work to informGeneral Lee, which task he accomplished by passing through the Federallines during the night and informing General Stuart, who forthwithcommunicated it to General Lee, who lost no time in moving heaven andearth--the former by prayer, we assume; the latter by his authority overmen--to meet the emergency. Results proved how wonderfully he succeeded. 

As we moved past the town we saw neither any of our troops nor those ofthe enemy, and heard no firing. Although there was complete absence ofthe usual prelude to battle, still the apprehension came over us thatsomething serious in that line was not very remote, either in time orplace. The commanders of both armies were conscious of the importanceof the impending contest, which perhaps explains the extreme cautionthey exercised. 

After passing through a piece of woodland, we entered a small field andcame in distinct view of two blue lines of battle, drawn up one in rearof the other. On these we at once opened fire, and were answered verypromptly by a Federal battery in the same quarter. While thus engaged wehad a visitor in the person of a young fellow who had just beencommissioned a lieutenant, having previously been an orderly at brigadeheadquarters. Feeling his newly acquired importance, he spurred hishorse around among the guns, calling out, "Let 'em have it!" and thelike, until, seeing our disgust at his impertinent encouragement, andthat we preferred a chance to let him have it, he departed. Our nextvisitor came in a different guise, and by a hint of another kind wasquickly disposed of. He, a man of unusually large size, with sworddangling at his side, came bounding from our right at a full run. Alarge log a few steps in our rear was his goal as a place of safety, andover it he leaped and was instantly concealed behind it. He had scanttime to adjust himself before the log was struck a crashing blow by asolid shot. He reappeared as part of the upheaval; but, regaining hisfeet, broke for the woods with the speed of a quarterhorse, and agreater confidence in distance than in logs. 

It was now dark, and our range had been accurately gotten. After eachdischarge of our opponent's guns, what appeared to be a harmless sparkof fire, immovable as a star, repeatedly deceived us. It was the burningfuse in the head of the shell which, coming straight toward us, seemedstationary until the shell shot by or burst. Four young mules drawingour battery-forge were stampeded by these shells and ran off through thewoods, thus affording Pleasants, our blacksmith, entertainment for therest of the night. 

Firing ceased on both sides at about eight o'clock, and we passedthrough the woods to our left and went into park on the opposite side. Still feeling the comfort of my clean clothes, I enjoyed a quiet night'srest on the top of a caisson, little heeding the gentle rain which fellon my face. Our bivouac was immediately by the "Straw-stacks, " whichhave been so generally referred to as landmarks in this battle, andwhich were located in the open ground near the forest which extended tothe Dunkard church. About seven o'clock next morning, while standingwith horses hitched and awaiting orders, no engagement so far havingtaken place near us, a shell of great size burst with a terrific report. One fragment of it mortally wounded Sam Moore, a driver of my gun, whileanother piece cut off the forefoot of one of the horses in the team. Wesoon transferred his harness to another horse which we hitched in hisstead and, as we went off at a trot, the crippled horse took his placeclose by where he was accustomed to work, and kept alongside on threelegs until his suffering was relieved by a bullet in the brain. 

We had moved, to get out of range of missiles, but the place to which wehad just come was not an improvement. While standing with the gun infront turned in file at right angles to those following, a twenty-poundshell swept by the six drivers and their teams in the rear, just grazingthem, then striking the ground, ricocheted almost between the forwarddriver and his saddle as he threw himself forward on the horse's neck. Imention this in contrast with an occurrence later in the day, when oneshell killed or wounded all of the six horses in a team, together withtheir three drivers. 

Fighting along the line of four miles had become general--done on ourside chiefly by infantry. Jackson's corps occupied the left with a thinline of men, and from it there was already a stream of stragglers. Jackson, while sitting nearby on his horse, watching the battle, wasapproached by a lad of about thirteen years, who for some time had beenone of his orderlies. He began talking in a very animated manner, pointing the while to different parts of the field. Jackson kept hiseyes on the ground, but gave close attention to what was said. The boywas Charles Randolph, and soon after this became a cadet at the VirginiaMilitary Institute, and at the battle of New Market was left on thefield for dead. Fourteen years after the war, while visiting in aneighboring county, I was introduced to a Reverend Mr. Randolph, and, seeing the resemblance to the soldier-boy, I asked him about Sharpsburg, recalling the incident, and found he was the lad. 

The straggling already mentioned continually increased, and seemed togive General Jackson great concern. He endeavored, with the aid of hisstaff officers who were present and the members of our company, to stopthe men and turn them back, but without the least effect; claiming, asthey did, the want of ammunition and the usual excuses. The marvel was, how those remaining in line could have withstood the tremendous oddsagainst them; but, from accounts, the enemy suffered the sameexperience, and in a greater degree. Up to this time, with the exceptionof a return of our battery to the Dunkard church, where we had foughtthe evening before, we had done nothing. At about ten o'clock theindications were that if reinforcements could not be promptly hadserious consequences would follow. But just after our return from thechurch to General Jackson's place of observation we saw a long column oftroops approaching from the left. This was McLaw's division ofLongstreet's corps, which had just reached the field. Their coming wasmost opportune, and but a short time elapsed before the comparativequiet was interrupted--first by volleys, followed by a continuous roarof battle. 

Our battery was now ordered to the left of our line, and on the waythither joined Raines's battery, of Lynchburg, and a battery ofLouisianians--eleven guns in all. Besides the ordinary number of gunsaccompanying infantry, we had to contend with about thirty 32-pounderson the high ground in the rear and entirely commanding that part of thefield. In view of the superior odds against us, our orders were to holdour positions as long as possible, then to move to our left and occupynew ones. Why such instructions were given was soon explained, as theground over which we passed, and where we stopped to fire, was strewnwith the dead horses and the wrecks of guns and caissons of thebatteries which had preceded us. By the practice thus afforded, theFederal batteries had gotten a perfect range, and by the time our gunswere unlimbered we were enveloped in the smoke and dust of burstingshells, and the air was alive with flying iron. At most of the positionswe occupied on this move it was the exception when splinters and piecesof broken rails were not flying from the fences which stood in ourfront, hurled by shot and shell. 

Working in the lead of one of the Louisiana battery teams was a horsethat frequently attracted my admiration. A rich blood-bay in color, withflowing black mane and tail, as he swept around in the various changeswith wide, glowing nostrils and flecked with foam, in my eyes he camewell up to the description of the warhorse whose "neck was clothed withthunder. "

Moving as we had been doing, toward the left of our line, we passedbeyond that portion held by regular infantry commands into what wasdefended by a mere show of force when scarcely any existed. In charge ofit was Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, who demonstrated on this occasion hisability to accomplish what it would seem impossible for one man to do. With a few skeleton regiments supplied with numerous flags which heposted to show over the crests of the ridges in our rear, as if therewere men in proportion, he himself took command of a line ofsharpshooters in our front. This skirmish-line was composed ofstragglers he had gathered up, and whom he had transformed from a lot ofshirkers into a band of heroes. With black plume floating, cheering andsinging, back and forth along the line he swept. 

The Federals confronting us in the three blue lines could not have beenless than 8, 000 men, who, with their powerful artillery, should haveutterly overwhelmed the scant numbers handled by Stuart. As the bluelines would start forward, calling to our artillery to pour in theshells again, he would urge on his sharpshooters to meet them half-way. The failure of a strong force of Federals to advance farther isexplained, no doubt, by the fact that two of their army corps and onedivision had suffered terribly a short time before near the same ground. 

Colonel Allan states, in his "Army of Northern Virginia, 1862, " page409, "Of Hooker's and Mansfield's corps, and of Sedgwick's division, wasnothing left available for further operations"; and General Palfrey, theNorthern historian, says, "In less time than it takes to tell it, theground was strewn with the bodies of the dead and wounded, while theunwounded were moving off rapidly to the north. " (Palfrey, "Antietam andFredericksburg, " page 87. )

While engaged in one of these artillery duels a thirty-two pound shottore by the gun and struck close by Henry Rader, a driver, who was lyingon the ground, holding the lead-horses at the limber. The shell tore atrench alongside of him and hoisted him horizontally from the ground. Ashe staggered off, dazed by the shock, the horses swung around to run, when young R. E. Lee, Jr. , with bare arms and face begrimed with powder, made a dash from the gun, seized the bridle of each of the leaders atthe mouth, and brought them back into position before the dust hadcleared away. 

In the constant changes from knoll to knoll, in accordance with ordersto "move when the fire became too hot, " some of the batteries with uswithdrew, perhaps prematurely. In this way the Rockbridge guns were leftto receive the whole of the enemy's fire. In just such a situation asthis, it not being to our liking, I asked Lieutenant Graham if we shouldpull out when the others did. Before he could answer the question ashell burst at our gun, from which an iron ball an inch in diameterstruck me on the right thigh-joint, tearing and carrying the clothes into the bone. I fell, paralyzed with excruciating pain. Graham rode off, thinking I was killed, as he afterward told me. The pain soon subsided, and I was at first content to lie still; but, seeing the grass and eartharound constantly torn up, and sometimes thrown on me, I made fruitlessefforts to move. The strict orders against assisting the woundedprevented my being carried off until the firing had ceased, when I wastaken back about fifty yards and my wound examined by two surgeons fromthe skeleton regiments, who treated me with the utmost kindness, thinking, perhaps, from my clean white shirt, that I was an officer. Anhour later my gun came by, and I was put on a caisson and hauled aroundfor an hour or two more. 

It was about this time that what was left of the battery was seen byGeneral Lee, and the interview between him and his son took place. Togive an idea of the condition of the battery, I quote from"Recollections and Letters of General Lee, " by R. E. Lee, Jr. , page 77:

"As one of the Army of Northern Virginia I occasionally saw theCommander-in-Chief, or passed the headquarters close enough to recognizehim and members of his staff; but a private soldier in Jackson's corpsdid not have much time during that campaign for visiting, and until thebattle of Sharpsburg I had no opportunity of speaking to him. On thatoccasion our battery had been severely handled, losing many men andhorses. Having three guns disabled, we were ordered to withdraw and, while moving back, we passed General Lee and several of his staffgrouped on a little knoll near the road. Having no definite orders whereto go, our captain, seeing the commanding General, halted us and rodeover to get some instructions. Some others and myself went along to seeand hear. General Lee was dismounted with some of his staff around him, a courier holding his horse. Captain Poague, commanding our battery, theRockbridge Artillery, saluted, reported our condition, and asked forinstructions. The General listened patiently, looked at us, his eyespassing over me without any sign of recognition, and then orderedCaptain Poague to take the most serviceable horses and men, man theuninjured gun, send the disabled part of his command back to refit, andreport to the front for duty. As Poague turned to go, I went up to speakto my father. When he found out who I was he congratulated me on beingwell and unhurt. I then said, 'General, are you going to send us inagain?' 'Yes, my son, ' he replied, with a smile, 'you all must do whatyou can to help drive these people back. ' In a letter to Mrs. Lee, General Lee says, 'I have not laid eyes on Rob since I saw him in thebattle of Sharpsburg, going in with a single gun of his, for the secondtime, after his company had been withdrawn in consequence of three ofits guns having been disabled.... '"

Held by a companion on the caisson, as it was driven toward our right, jolting over the partly torn-down fences and exposed to far-reachingmissiles, I had an opportunity of seeing other portions of thebattlefield. We stopped for a time on the ridge overlooking the villagealmost enveloped in the flames of burning buildings, while flocks ofterrified pigeons, driven hither and thither by the screaming andbursting shells, flew round and round in the clouds of smoke. Inhearing, from beyond and to the left of the village, was the fighting at"Bloody Lane, " a sunken road which was almost filled with the dead ofboth sides when the day closed. As was also that at "Burnside Bridge, " amile southeast of the town, for the possession of which Burnside's corpsand Toombs's Georgians contended till late in the afternoon. I was notaverse to leaving this scene when the disabled caisson proceeded, andreached the pike. 

A mile farther on I was deposited on the roadside, near the brigadefield-hospital; and, completely exhausted, was carried into the yard ofa neat brick cottage by two stalwart Alleghany Roughs and laid besidetheir captain, John Carpenter. The place, inside and out, was filledwith wounded men. Carpenter insisted on my taking the last of histwo-ounce vial of whiskey, which wonderfully revived me. Upon inquiry, he told me he had been shot through the knee by a piece of shell andthat the surgeons wanted to amputate his leg, but, calling my attentionto a pistol at his side, said, "You see that? It will not be taken offwhile I can pull a trigger. " He entirely recovered, and led his batteryinto the next battle, where he was again severely wounded. That thehistory of the four Carpenter brothers of Alleghany County, Virginia, has not been recorded is a misfortune. As already mentioned, Joe, theoldest, and captain of the Alleghany Rough Battery, was mortally woundednear us at Cedar Mountain. John, who succeeded him as captain, afterbeing wounded at Sharpsburg, was again wounded at Fredericksburg in1862, where he was twice carried from the field, and as often worked hisway back to his gun. In Early's campaign in 1864 he lost his right arm. In the same campaign his next younger brother, Ben, lieutenant in thesame company, was shot through the lungs. The wounds of neither hadhealed when they received news, at their home, of the surrender atAppomattox. Mounting their horses, they set out for Gen. Joe Johnston'sarmy in North Carolina, but, on arriving at Lexington, Virginia, heardof the surrender of that army. The fourth and youngest brother lost aleg near the close of the war. Like all true heroes, their modesty wasas striking as their courage and patriotism. 

On the following day at our hospital the heap of amputated legs and armsincreased in size until it became several feet in height, while the twoarmies lay face to face, like two exhausted monsters, each waiting forthe other to strike. 

About sundown that afternoon I was put in an ambulance with S. R. Moore, of the College company, who was in a semi-conscious state, having beenstruck on the brow, the ball passing out back of the ear. The distanceto Shepherdstown was only three miles, but the slow progress ofinnumerable trains of wagons and impedimenta generally, converging atthe one ford of the Potomac, delayed our arrival until dawn the nextmorning. About sunrise we were carried into an old deserted frame houseand assigned to the bare floor for beds. My brother David, whose gun hadremained on picket duty on this side of the river, soon found me, and atonce set about finding means to get me away. The only conveyanceavailable was George Bedinger's mother's carriage, but my brother'shorse--the same brute that had robbed me of my bedding at Leesburg---nowrefused to work. 

The booming of cannon and bursting of shells along the river at thelower end of the town admonished us that our stay in the desolate oldhouse must be short, and, as brigade after brigade marched by the door, the apprehension that "they in whose wars I had borne my part" wouldsoon "have all passed by, " made me very wretched. As a last resort, Iwas lifted upon the back of this same obstreperous horse and, in greatpain, rode to the battery, which was camped a short distance from thetown. 

S. R. Moore was afterward taken to the Bedingers' residence, where heremained in the enemy's lines until, with their permission, he was takenhome by his father some weeks later. 

David Barton, a former member of our company, but now in command ofCutshaw's battery, kindly sent his ambulance, with instructions that Ibe taken to his father's house in Winchester, which place, in companywith a wounded man of his battery, I reached on the following day. AtMr. Barton's I found my cousin and theirs, Robert Barton, of Rockbridge, on sick-leave, and a Doctor Grammer, who dressed my wound; and, althoughunable to leave my bed, I intensely enjoyed the rest and kindnessreceived in that hospitable home, which was repeatedly made desolate bythe deaths of its gallant sons who fell in battle. 

Marshall, the eldest, and lieutenant in artillery, was killed on theoutskirts of Winchester in May, 1862. David, the third son, whom I havejust mentioned, was killed in December of the same year. Strother, thesecond son, lost a leg at Chancellorsville and died soon after the war;and Randolph, the fourth son, captain on the staff of the StonewallBrigade, and now a distinguished lawyer in Baltimore, was seven timeswounded, while Robert, a member of our battery, and a gallant soldier, was the only one of the five brothers in the service who survived thewar unscathed. Our mutual cousin, Robert Barton of the RockbridgeCavalry, was shot through the lungs in Early's Valley campaign, and leftwithin the enemy's lines, where, nursed by his sister, his life hung inthe balance for many days. 

After a sojourn of a few days, leave to go home was given me by thedepartment surgeon, and at four o'clock in the morning, with youngBoiling, Barton and Reid serving as my crutches (on their way to theVirginia Military Institute), I was put in the stage-coach at the frontdoor and driven to the hotel, where several Baltimoreans, who werereturning from Northern prisons, got in. One of them was especiallynoticeable, as his face was much pitted by smallpox, and with hisConfederate uniform he wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. They were a jollyset, and enlivened the journey no little. A square or two farther on, two wounded officers came from a house at which we stopped, and in anauthoritative manner demanded seats inside, all of which were occupied. They said they were officers in a celebrated command and expectedcorresponding consideration. The fellow with the hat told them his partywas just from Fort Delaware, where little distinction was paid to rank, but if they required exalted positions they ought to get on top of thecoach. The officers said they were wounded and could not climb up. "Iwas wounded, too--mortally, " came from under the hat. After joking themsufficiently, the Baltimoreans kindly gave up their seats and mounted tothe top. 

[Illustration: R. T. BARTON]

At the towns at which we stopped to change horses, the boys whocollected around were entertained with wonderful stories by our friendsfrom Baltimore. Just outside of one of these stopping-places we passedan old gentleman, probably refugeeing, who wore a tall beaver hat androde a piebald pony. To the usual crowd of lads who had gathered around, they said they were going to give a show in the next town and wantedthem all to come, would give them free tickets, and each a hatful of"goobers"; then pointing to the old gentleman on the spotted pony, whohad now ridden up, said, "Ah, there is our clown; he can give you fullparticulars. " One hundred and thirty miles from the battlefield ofSharpsburg the dawn of the second day of our journey showed again theprocession of wounded men, by whom we had been passing all night and whohad bivouacked along the road as darkness overtook them. 

They were now astir, bathing each other's wounds. The distance fromWinchester to Staunton is ninety-six miles, and the trip was made by ourstage in twenty-six hours, with stops only long enough to change horses. 

From nine to ten o'clock in the night I was utterly exhausted, and feltthat I could not go a mile farther alive; but rallied, and reachedStaunton at six o'clock in the morning, having been twenty-six hours onthe way. Here Sam Lyle and Joe Chester, of the College company, detailedas a provost-guard, cared for me until the next day, when anotherstage-ride of thirty-six miles brought me to Lexington and home. Withthe aid of a crutch I was soon able to get about, but four months passedbefore I was again fit for duty, and from the effects of the wound I amlame to this day. 

Since going into the service in March, 1862, six months before, I hadbeen in nine pitched battles, about the same number of skirmishes, andhad marched more than one thousand miles--and this, too, with no naturaltaste for war. 

CHAPTER XIX

RETURN TO ARMY--IN WINTER-QUARTERS NEAR PORT ROYAL

On December 13, 1862, the great first battle of Fredericksburg had beenfought, in which four men--Montgomery, McAlpin, Fuller and Beard--in mydetachment had been killed, and others wounded, while the second piece, standing close by, did not lose a man. This section of the battery wasposted in the flat, east of the railroad. As I was not present in thisbattle I will insert an account recently given me by Dr. Robert Frazer, a member of the detachment, who was severely wounded at the time:

"First battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862. --We reached thefield a little after sunrise, having come up during the night from PortRoyal, where we had been engaging the enemy's gunboats. The firstsection, under Lieutenant Graham, went immediately into action in frontof Hamilton's Crossing. 

"In conjunction with Stuart's horse artillery it was our mission to meetBurnside's movement against General Lee's right wing, resting on theRappahannock. With the exception of brief intervals, to let the gunscool, we ceased firing only once during the entire day, and this was tomove about a hundred yards for a more effective position. Excepting thefew minutes this occupied, our guns and limber-chests remained in thesame position all day, the caissons plying steadily between theordnance-train and the battle line, to keep up the stock of ammunition. I do not recall the number of casualties, but our losses were heavy. When we came to make the change of position mentioned above, more thanhalf the horses were unable to take a single step. One of the drivers, Fuller, was lying on the ground, his head toward the enemy. A shellentered the crown of his head and exploded in his body! Not long afterthis I heard some one calling me, and, looking back, I saw 'Doc'Montgomery prostrate. I ran to him and, stooping at his side, began toexamine his wound. 'There is nothing you can do for me, ' he said; 'I ammortally wounded, and can live but a little while. Take a message for mymother. ' (His mother was a widow. ) 'When the battle is over, write andtell her how I died--at my post--like a man--and ready to give my lifefor the cause. Now, Frazer, pray for me. ' When the brief prayer wasended I resumed my place at the gun. It was about this time, I think, that Pelham came up and said, 'Well, you men stand killing better thanany I ever saw. ' A little later, just after sunset, I received twosevere wounds myself, one of them disabling my right arm for life; andso I had to commit brave 'Doc's' dying message for his mother to otherhands. "

The third and fourth pieces, twenty-pound Parrott guns, were on the hillwest of the railroad, and there Lieutenant Baxter McCorkle, RandolphFairfax and Arthur Robinson were killed, and Edward Alexander lost anarm. This section of the battery was exposed to a fire unsurpassed infierceness during the war. The ground, when it arrived, was alreadystrewn with dead horses and wrecked batteries, and two horses that werestanding, with holes in their heads through which daylight could beseen, were instantly killed by other shots intended for our guns. 

Captain Poague told me since, that the orders General Jackson gave himas he came to the place were, "to fire on the enemy's artillery till itbecame too hot for him, and then to turn his guns on their infantry, "and that he, Poague, had stated this in his official report, and thechief of artillery of the corps, before forwarding the report, had askedhim if he was sure that these were General Jackson's orders. He told himhe was. The report was then endorsed and so forwarded. 

The scene, as described at the close of this battle near nightfall, wasa melancholy one. As the two sections of the battery, which hadseparated and gone to different portions of the field in themorning--the one to the heights, the other to the plain--met again, onthe caissons of each were borne the dead bodies of those of theirnumber who had fallen, the wounded, and the harness stripped from thedead horses. The few horses that had survived, though scarcely able todrag the now empty ammunition-chests, were thus again burdened. 

After going into bivouac and the dead had been buried, to clear theground for a renewal of the battle on the following day, thewagon-horses had to be brought into requisition. These were driven inpairs to the position on the bluff and, as lights would attract the fireof the enemy, the dead horses had to be found in the darkness, and withchains dragged to the rear. The approach of the first instalment to aline of infantry, through which it had to pass and who were roused fromsleep by the rattling of chains and the dragging of the ponderous bodiesthrough brush and fallen timber, created no little excitement, and awide berth was given the gruesome procession. By midnight the work hadbeen accomplished. 

At dawn of the following day a fresh detachment of men and horses havingbeen furnished by another battery for the fourth piece, our batteryagain went into position. There it remained inactive throughout the day, while the enemy's dead within our lines were being buried by their ownmen under flag of truce. On the night which followed, as the two armieslay under arms, confronting each other, a display of the auroraborealis, of surpassing splendor and beauty, was witnessed. At suchtimes, from time immemorial, "shooting-stars", comets, and themovements of the heavenly bodies have been observed with profoundestinterest as presaging good or evil. On this occasion, with the deepimpress of what had just been experienced and the apprehension of aneven more determined conflict on the day next to dawn, it can readily beimagined that minds naturally prone to superstition were thrilled withemotions and conjectures aroused by the sight. At any rate, these"northern lights, " reinforced by the memory of the fearful carnage sorecently suffered, seem to have been interpreted as a summons home--asthe Northern hosts, like the shifting lights, had vanished from viewwhen daylight appeared. 

In January, 1863, with William McClintic, of our company, I returned tothe army, which was in winter-quarters near Guiney's Station in CarolineCounty. 

After arriving in a box-car at this station, about midnight, during apouring rain, we found one section of the battery camped three milesfrom Port Royal. The other section, to which I belonged, was on pickettwelve miles beyond--at Jack's Hill, overlooking Port Tobacco Bay. Thesection near Port Royal had comfortable winter-quarters on a hillsideand was well sheltered in pine woods; and, as most of my mess were inthis section, I was allowed to remain until the contents of my boxbrought from home were consumed. One night soon after my arrival, whilemaking a visit to members of another mess, Abner Arnold, one of myhosts, pointing to a large, dark stain on the tarpaulin which served asthe roof of their shanty, said, "Have you any idea what discolored thatplace?" As I had not, he said, "That's your blood; that is thecaisson-cover on which you were hauled around at Sharpsburg--and neitherrain nor snow can wash it out. "

The infantry of the Stonewall Brigade was in camp seven miles from us, toward the railroad. Having ridden there one morning for our mail, I mettwo men in one of their winter-quarters streets. One of them, wearing acitizen's overcoat, attracted my attention. Then, noticing the scars onhis face, I recognized my former messmate, Wash. Stuart, on his returnto the battery for the first time since his fearful wound at Winchesterthe preceding May. His companion was Capt. Willie Randolph, of theSecond Virginia Regiment, both of whom will be mentioned later. 

The chief sport of the troops in their winter-quarters was snowballing, which was conducted on regular military principles. Two brigades wouldsometimes form in line of battle, commanded by their officers, and pelteach other without mercy. In one such engagement a whole brigade wasdriven pell-mell through its camp, and their cooking utensils capturedby their opponents. 

Once a week quite regularly an old negro man came to our camp with awagon-load of fine oysters from Tappahannock. It was interesting to seesome of the men from our mountains, who had never seen the bivalvebefore, trying to eat them, and hear their comments. Our custom was tobuy anything to eat that came along, and so they had invested theirConfederate notes in oysters. One of them gave some of my messmates anaccount of the time his mess had had with their purchases. When it wasproposed that they sell their supply to us, he said, "No, we are notafraid to tackle anything, and we've made up our minds to eat what we'vegot on hand, if it takes the hair off. "

While in this camp, although it was after a five-months' absence, Iinvariably waked about two minutes before my time to go on guard, havingslept soundly during the rest of the four hours. One officer, alwaysfinding me awake, asked if I ever slept at all. The habit did notcontinue, and had not been experienced before. An instance of theopposite extreme I witnessed here in an effort to rouse Silvey, who wasgenerally a driver. After getting him on his feet, he was shaken, pulled, and dragged around a blazing fire, almost scorching him, untilthe guard-officer had to give him up. If feigning, it was neverdiscovered. 

The contents of my box having long since been consumed, I, with severalothers, was sent, under command of Lieut. Cole Davis, to my section atJack's Hill. There we were quartered in some negro cabins on this bleakhill, over which the cold winds from Port Tobacco Bay had a fair sweep. On my return from the sentinel's beat one snowy night I discovered, bythe dim firelight, eight or ten sheep in our cabin, sheltering from thestorm. The temptation, with such an opportunity, to stir up a panic, washard to resist. But, fearing the loss of an eye or other injury to theprostrate sleepers on the dirt floor, by the hoof of a bucking sheep, Iconcluded to forego the fun. After a stay of several weeks we wereordered back to the other section, much to our delight. In that barrenregion, with scant provender and protected from the weather by a roof ofcedar-brush, our horses had fared badly, and showed no disposition topull when hitched to the guns that were held tight in the frozen mud. Toone of the drivers, very tall and long of limb, who was trying in vainwith voice and spur to urge his team to do its best, our Irish wit, TomMartin, called out, "Pull up your frog-legs, Tomlin, if you want to findthe baste; your heels are just a-spurrin' one another a foot below hisbelly!"

We were delighted to be again in our old quarters, where we were more inthe world and guard duty lighter. Several times before leaving this campour mess had visits from the two cousins, Lewis and William Randolph, the firstnamed a captain in the Irish Battalion, the second a captain inthe Second Virginia Regiment, who stopped over-night with us, onscouting expeditions across the Rappahannock in the enemy's lines, whereWillie Randolph had a sweetheart, whom he, soon after this, married. Lewis Randolph told us that he had killed a Federal soldier with a stonein the charge on the railroad-cut at second Manassas; that the man, whowas about twenty steps from him, was recapping his gun, which had justmissed fire while aimed at Randolph's orderly-sergeant, when he threwthe stone. William Randolph said, "Yes, that's true; when we wereprovost-officers at Frederick, Maryland, a man was brought in underarrest and, looking at Lewis, said, 'I've seen you before. I saw youkill a Yankee at second Manassas with a stone, ' and then related thecircumstances exactly. "

William Randolph was six feet two inches in height, and said that he hadoften been asked how he escaped in battle, and his reply was, "By takinga judicious advantage of the shrubbery. " This, however, did not continueto avail him, as he was afterward killed while in command of hisregiment, being one of the six commanders which the Second VirginiaRegiment lost--killed in battle--during the war. 

In March we moved from our winter-quarters to Hamilton's Crossing, threemiles from Fredericksburg, where we remained in camp, with severalinterruptions, until May. Our fare here was greatly improved by theaddition of fresh fish, so abundant at that season of the year in theRappahannock and the adjacent creeks. In April the great cavalry battleat Kelly's Ford, forty miles above, was fought, in which the "GallantPelham" was killed. 

CHAPTER XX

SECOND BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG--CHANCELLORSVILLE--WOUNDING AND DEATH OFSTONEWALL JACKSON

The battle at Kelly's Ford was the forerunner of the crossing ofBurnside's army to our side of the river, although this was delayedlonger than was expected. In the latter part of April we were roused onemorning before dawn to go into position on the fatal hill in the bend ofthe railroad. The various divisions of the army were already in motionfrom their winter-quarters, and, as they reached the neighborhood, weredeployed in line of battle above and below. 

The high hills sloping toward the river on the enemy's side were mannedwith heavy siege-guns, from which shells were thrown at intervals as ourtroops came into view. Here we lay for a day or more, with gunsunlimbered, awaiting the tedious disposition of the various divisions. The bluff on which our guns were posted, commanding, as it did, anextensive view of the country, attracted many of the officers, who hadpreceded their men, and, with field-glasses, scanned the surroundings. Isaw at one time, within a few rods of where we stood, Generals Lee, Jackson, D. H. And A. P. Hill, Early, Rodes and Colston, besides a scoreof brigadiers. At this time the enemy were moving across their pontoonbridges and extending their skirmish-lines on the right and left. 

The only time I met General Jackson to speak to him since he had leftLexington was when he rode away from this group of officers. As I heldaside the limb of a tree in his way, near our gun, he extended his handand, as he gave me a hearty shake, said, "How do you do, Edward?" Ashort time after this, our battery had orders to fire a few rounds, as asort of "feeler", and the enemy at once replied. The officers, nothaving been informed of the order, were for a time exposed to anunnecessary and what might have proved very serious danger. However, they withdrew before any damage was done, although a large piece ofshell which flew past our gun gave General Colston a close call as hetarried near it. After threatening weather, the sun rose clear on thefollowing morning. A light mist which lay along the river soondisappeared, and again, as at Harper's Ferry, our elevated positionafforded a superb view. A level plain extended to the river in our frontand for some miles to the right, and as far as Fredericksburg (twomiles) to the left, and beyond the river the Stafford Heights. 

While we were standing admiring the scene, three horses without riderscame dashing from within the Federal lines, and swept at full speedbetween the two armies. They ran as if on a regular race-track andconscious of the many spectators who cheered them to their best. Then, veering in their course from side to side, they finally shot through anopening made to receive them into our lines, which raised a "rebelyell, " as if Jackson were passing by. One of these horses trotted intoour battery and was caught and ridden by Sergeant Strickler, under thename of "Sedgwick, " to the close of the war. 

Burnside's crossing the river at Fredericksburg was only a feint, as themass of his army crossed near Chancellorsville, and thither our armywent, leaving Early's division, two other brigades and severalbatteries, including ours, to oppose Sedgwick's corps. After three dayshere, with occasional artillery duels, Sedgwick recrossed the river, andEarly, supposing he would join Hooker, set out with his command towardChancellorsville. Before we had gone three miles I heard GeneralBarksdale, as he rode along the column, ask for General Early, who was ashort distance ahead, and announce, "My young men have told me that theFederals are recrossing the river. " A few moments later, as the two rodeback together, General Early said, "If that is the case, I must go backor they will get my wagon-train. "

We at once countermarched, and by eleven o'clock were back in positionon the same bluff. The fourth detachment was in front and failed to getthe order to countermarch, and so kept on almost to Chancellorsville, and did not rejoin us until eight o'clock the next morning (Sunday), having spent the whole night marching. 

I will mention here a striking instance of what I suppose could becalled the "irony of fate. " My bedfellow, Stuart, as already stated, hadbeen fearfully wounded at Winchester, his first battle. After his returnmany months later he often expressed the greatest desire to pass throughone battle unhurt, and regarded his companions who had done so asfortunate heroes. It was now Sunday morning and there had been heavyfiring for an hour or two about Fredericksburg, and thither the thirdand fourth pieces were ordered. As they were starting off, I saw Stuartbidding good-by to several friends, and I, not wishing to undergo athing so suggestive, was quietly moving off. But he called out, "Whereis my partner?" and came to me, looking so jaded after his longnightmarch that his farewell made me rather serious. In half an hour hewas dead. As he was going with his gun into position a case-shotexploded close to him and three balls passed through his body, any oneof which would have been fatal. 

Two other members of the battery, Henry Foutz and J. S. Agnor, were alsokilled in this engagement. The position was a trying one. Two batterieshad already suffered severely while occupying it, and the cannoneers ofa third battery were lying inactive by their guns as ours came into it. But in less than an hour thereafter the enemy's guns were outmatched;at any rate, ceased firing. General Hoke, who had witnessed the wholeaffair, came and asked Major Latimer to introduce him to Captain Graham, saying he wanted to know the man whose guns could do such execution. About noon my section joined the others a short distance in rear of thisplace on the hills overlooking Fredericksburg. 

Soon after we had gotten together, the bodies of our dead comrades werebrought from the places at which they had fallen, and William Bolling, Berkeley Minor and myself, messmates of Stuart, were detailed to buryhim. His body was taken in our battery ambulance, which we accompanied, to the Marye family cemetery near our old camp, and permission gotten tobury it there. If I was ever utterly miserable, it was on this Sundayafternoon as we stood, after we had dug the grave, in this quiet place, surrounded by a dense hedge of cedar, the ground and tombstonesovergrown with moss and ivy, and a stillness as deep as if no warexisted. Just at this time there came timidly through the hedge, like anapparition, the figure of a woman. She proved to be Mrs. Marye; and, during the battle, which had now continued four days, she had beenseeking shelter from the enemy's shells in the cellar of her house. Shehad come to get a lock of Stuart's hair for his mother, and herpresence, now added to that of our ambulance driver, as Minor read theEpiscopal burial service, made the occasion painfully solemn. In lessthan an hour we were again with the battery and in line of battle withthe whole of our battalion, twenty guns, all of which openedsimultaneously on what appeared to be a column of artillery movingthrough the woods in our front. However, it proved to be a train ofwagons, some of which were overturned and secured by us the next day. 

Here we lay during the night with guns unlimbered near Gen. "ExtraBilly" Smith's brigade of infantry. Next afternoon we had a fine view ofa charge by Early's division, with Brigadier-Generals Gordon and Hokeriding to and fro along their lines and the division driving theFederals from their position along the crest of the hill. The greaterportion of the enemy's killed and wounded were left in our hands. Manyof the latter with whom we talked were heartily sick of the war andlonged for the expiration of their term of service. This series ofbattles, continuing, as it did, at intervals for a week, was not yetdone with. 

After dark our battery was ordered to move down toward Fredericksburgand occupy some earthworks just outside of the town. We had been well inrange of the siege-guns already, but now the only hope was that theywould overshoot us. As I was on guard that night I had ample time, whilepacing the breastworks, for cogitation. I heard distinctly the barkingof the dogs and the clocks striking the hours during the night. Whenmorning came, a dense fog had settled along the river, entirelyconcealing us, and while it hung we were ordered to pull out quietly. 

Two hundred yards back from this place we came into clear sunlight and, as we turned, saw an immense balloon poised on the surface of the mist, and apparently near enough to have pierced it with a shell. Not a shotwas fired at us--veiled, as we were, by the mist--until we had gottenstill farther away, but then some enormous projectiles landed around us. 

A question that would naturally present itself to one who had heard ofthe repeated victories won by the Confederate army would be, "Why wereno decisive results?" By carefully studying the history of the war, theinquirer could not fail to notice that at every crisis either someflagrant failure on the part of a subordinate to execute the dutyassigned to him occurred, or that some untoward accident befell theConfederate arms. Conspicuous among the latter was Jackson's fall atChancellorsville. 

That General Hooker seemed entirely ignorant of the proximity of GeneralLee's army was disclosed by the discovery, by General Fitz Lee, that theright flank of the Federal army was totally unguarded. 

General Jackson, when informed of this, proceeded by a rapid march tothrow his corps well to the right and rear of this exposed wing, and bythis unexpected onset threw that portion of Hooker's army into theutmost confusion and disorder. Falling night for a time checked hisadvance, but, while making dispositions to push the advantage gained, so as to envelope his adversary, he passed, with his staff, outside ofhis picket line, and when returning to re-enter was mortally wounded byhis own men. 

This May 4 closed the great effort of General Hooker, with 132, 000 men, to "crush" General Lee's army of 47, 000. The two last of the six days ofhis experience in the effort probably made him thankful that the loss of20, 000 of his force had been no greater. 

The mortal wounding of Jackson and his death on the tenth more thanoffset the advantage of the victory to the Confederates. His loss wasdeplored by the whole army, especially by General Lee, and to hisabsence in later battles, conspicuously at Gettysburg, was our failureto succeed attributed. In fact General Lee said to a friend, after thewar, that with Jackson at Gettysburg our success would have beenassured--a feeling that was entertained throughout the army. 

On the evening of the fifth, rain, which seemed invariably to follow agreat battle, fell in torrents and we went into camp drenched to theskin. After drying by a fire, I went to bed and slept for eighteenhours. Being in our old position on the hill, we converted it into acamp and there remained. 

On that portion of the great plain which extended along the railroad onour right we witnessed a grand review of Jackson's old corps, nowcommanded by General Ewell. The three divisions, commanded, respectively, by Generals Ed. Johnson, Rodes and Early, were drawn upone behind the other, with a space of seventy-five yards between, andGeneral Lee, mounted on "Traveler" and attended by a full staff andnumerous generals, at a sweeping gallop, made first a circuit of theentire corps, then in front and rear of each division. One by one hisattendants dropped out of the cavalcade. Gen. Ed. Johnson escaped a fallfrom his horse by being caught by one of his staff. Early soon pulledout, followed at intervals by others; but the tireless gray, as withsuperb ease and even strides he swept back and forth, making the turnsas his rider's body inclined to right or left, absorbed attention. Thedistance covered was nine miles, at the end of which General Lee drewrein with only one of his staff and Gen. A. P. Hill at his side. Suchspectacles were to us extremely rare, and this one was especially welltimed, affording the troops, as it did, an opportunity to see that theywere still formidable in number, and although Jackson was dead that thesoul of the army had not passed away. 

CHAPTER XXI

OPENING OF CAMPAIGN OF 1863--CROSSING TO THE VALLEY--BATTLE ATWINCHESTER WITH MILROY--CROSSING THE POTOMAC

The indications of another campaign were now not wanting, but what shapeit would take caused curious speculation; that is, among those whoseduty was only to execute. Longstreet had been recalled from the VirginiaPeninsula; Hooker's hosts again lined the Stafford Heights across theRappahannock. At evening we listened to the music of their bands, atnight could see the glow of their camp-fires for miles around. On June2, Ewell's corps first broke camp, followed in a day or two byLongstreet's, while A. P. Hill's remained at Fredericksburg to observethe movements of Hooker. On the eighth we reached Culpeper, where weremained during the ninth, awaiting the result of the greatest and moststubbornly contested cavalry engagement of the war, which continuedthroughout the day in our hearing--at Brandy Station. The Federalshaving been driven across the river, our march was resumed on the tenth. 

On the following day we heard, at first indistinctly, toward the frontof the column continued cheering. Following on, it grew louder andlouder. We reached the foot of a long ascent, from the summit of whichthe shout went up, but were at a loss to know what called it forth. Arriving there, there loomed up before us the old Blue Ridge, and we, too, joined in the chorus. Moving on with renewed life, the continuedgreeting of those following was heard as eye after eye took in itsfamiliar face. We had thought that the love for these old mountains waspeculiar to us who had grown up among them; but the cheer of the Creoleswho had been with us under Jackson was as hearty as our own. 

We passed through Little Washington, thence by Chester Gap to FrontRoyal, the first of our old battlegrounds in the Valley, having leftLongstreet's and Hill's corps on the east side of the mountain. AtWinchester, as usual, was a force of the enemy under our formeracquaintance, General Milroy. Without interruption we were soon in hisvicinity. Nearly two days were consumed in feeling his strength andposition. Our battery was posted on a commanding hill north of the town, the top of which was already furrowed with solid shot and shells tofamiliarize the enemy with its range. Our battery now consisted of twotwenty-pound Parrott, and two brand-new English Blakeley guns, to one ofwhich I belonged. And a singular coincidence it was that in putting inthe first charge my gun was choked, the same thing having occurred onthe same field a year before, being the only times it happened duringthe war. I went immediately to the third piece and took the place of No. 1. 

[Illustration: B. C. M. Friend]

The battle had now begun, the enemy firing at us from a stronglyfortified fort near the town. Their target practice was no criterion oftheir shooting when being shot at, as not one of us was even wounded. While the battle was in progress we had a repetition of the race atFredericksburg when there dashed from the Federal fort three artilleryhorses, which came at full speed over the mile between us, appearing anddisappearing from view. On reaching the battery they were caught, andone of them, which we named "Milroy, " was driven by James Lewis at thewheel of my gun, and restored with "Sedgwick" to his old associates atAppomattox. 

Night put a stop to hostilities, and the next day, until late in theafternoon, we passed inactively. Then Hayes's Louisiana Brigade, formerly commanded by Gen. Dick Taylor, formed in our front and, charging with the old yell, captured the fort. After night I found twomembers of our company in possession of a little mule, equipped withsaddle and bridle, supposed to be a United States animal. They said theywere afraid of mules, and turned him over to me. I forthwith mounted, and passed an hour pleasantly, riding around. As I once heard a littlenegro say, "I went everywhar I knowed, an' everywhar I didn't know Icome back. " I felt now that I had a mount for the campaign, but nextmorning one of the Richmond Howitzers claimed the mule and identified itas his. 

The bulk of Milroy's force escaped during the night, but we capturedfour thousand prisoners, twenty-eight pieces of artillery, and hundredsof wagons and horses, and equipped ourselves, as we had done in 1862, atthe expense of Banks. For our two recently acquired English Blakeleyguns we substituted two twenty-pound Parrotts, giving us four guns ofthe same caliber. On the thirteenth we crossed the Potomac atShepherdstown, thence by way of Hagerstown, Maryland, to Greencastle, Pennsylvania, the first live Yankee town we had visited in war times. Many of the stores were open and full of goods, but as they refused totake Confederate money, and we were forbidden to plunder, we passed on, feeling aggrieved, and went into camp a few miles beyond. 

Having a curiosity to test the resources and hospitality of thisabundant country, I set out from camp, with two companions, for thispurpose. A walk of a mile brought us to the house of a widow with threepretty daughters. They told us they had been feeding many of oursoldiers and could give us only some milk, which they served, as seemedto be the custom of the country, in large bowls. They said they did notdislike rebels, and if we would go on to Washington and kill Lincoln, and end the war, they would rejoice. Proceeding farther, we stopped ata substantial brick house and were silently ushered into a large room, in the far end of which sat the head of the house, in clean whiteshirt-sleeves but otherwise dressed for company, his hat on and his feetas high as his head against the wall, smoking a cigar. At the other endof the room the rest of the family were at supper, of which we wereperfunctorily asked by the mistress to partake. A very aged lady, at acorner of the table, without speaking or raising her eyes, chewedapparently the same mouthful during our stay--one of our partysuggested, "perhaps her tongue. " The table was thickly covered withsaucers of preserves, pickles, radishes, onions, cheese, etc. The man ofthe house did not turn his head nor speak a word during our stay, whichwas naturally over with the meal. 

We returned to the battalion about sunset, encamped in a clean, grassyenclosure, the horses enjoying their bountiful food, the men in gayspirits, and the regimental bands playing lively airs. Shortly after ourreturn, there occurred an incident which lent additional interest to theoccasion. 

No one at all familiar with the Rockbridge Artillery will fail toremember Merrick. A lawyer and native of Hagerstown, Maryland, havingbeen educated abroad, he was an accomplished scholar and a finemusician, with a stock of Irish and other songs which he sang admirably. In person he was very slender, over six feet in height, with a longneck, prominent nose, and very thin hair and whiskers. Cut off fromhome and being utterly improvident, he was entirely dependent onquartermaster's goods for his apparel, and when clothing was issued hisforlorn and ragged appearance hushed every claim by others who mighthave had precedence. This Confederate clothing, like the rations, wasvery short, so that Merrick's pantaloons and jacket failed to meet, byseveral inches, the intervening space showing a very soiled cottonshirt. With the garments mentioned--a gray cap, rusty shoes and socks, and, in winter, half the tail of his overcoat burnt off--his costume isdescribed. 

Indifference to his appearance extended also to danger, and when abattle was on hand so was Merrick. Before crossing the Potomac hedisappeared from the command a perfect-looking vagabond, and now as wewere reveling in this bountiful country there rolled into our midst ahandsome equipage drawn by two stylish horses. When the door was openedout stepped Merrick, handsomely dressed in citizen's clothes, and handedout two distinguished-looking gentlemen, to whom he introduced us. Then, in the language of Dick Swiveler, "he passed around the rosy"; and alltaking a pull, our enthusiasm for Merrick mounted high. 

Our march under Ewell had been admirably conducted. We were always onthe road at an early hour, and, without hurry or the usual halts causedby troops crowding on one another, we made good distances each day andwere in camp by sunset. I never before or afterward saw the men sobuoyant. There was no demonstration, but a quiet undercurrent ofconfidence that they were there to conquer. The horses, too, invigoratedby abundant food, carried higher heads and pulled with firmer tread. 

Our march from Greencastle was through Chambersburg and Shippensburg, and when within eight or ten miles of Carlisle we passed through one ortwo hundred Pennsylvania militia in new Federal uniforms, who had justbeen captured and paroled. Before reaching Carlisle we very unexpectedly(to us) countermarched, and found the militiamen at the same place, butalmost all of them barefooted, their shoes and stockings having beenappropriated by needy rebels. As we first saw them they were greatlycrestfallen, but after losing their footgear all spirit seemed to havegone out of them. They lingered, it may be, in anticipation of thegreetings when met by wives and little ones at home, after havingsallied forth so valiantly in their defense. How embarrassing bare feetwould be instead of the expected trophies of war! Imagine a youngfellow, too, meeting his sweetheart! That they kept each other companyto the last moment, managed to reach home after night, and ate betweenmeals for some days, we may be sure. 

Before reaching Chambersburg we took a road to the left, in thedirection of Gettysburg. To give an idea of the change in our diet sinceleaving Dixie, I give the bill-of-fare of a breakfast my mess enjoyedwhile on this road: Real coffee and sugar, light bread, biscuits withlard in them, butter, apple-butter, a fine dish of fried chicken, and aquarter of roast lamb!

On the morning of July 1 we passed through a division of Longstreet'scorps bivouacked in a piece of woods. Our road lay across a high rangeof hills, from beyond which the sound of cannonading greeted us. Bythree o'clock that afternoon, when we reached the summit of the hills, the firing ahead had developed into the roar of a battle, and we pushedforward on the down-grade. The valley below, through which we passed, was thickly settled, and soon we began to meet prisoners and ourwounded, whose numbers rapidly increased as we advanced, and at the samepump by the roadside we frequently saw a group of Federal andConfederate soldiers having their wounds bathed and dressed by Northernwomen, kind alike to friend and foe. When we reached the field, aboutsundown, the battle was over. This was July 1 and the first of the threedays of terrific fighting which constituted the battle of Gettysburg. 

CHAPTER XXII

ON THE WAY TO GETTYSBURG--BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG--RETREAT

Before proceeding farther let us consider briefly the condition of thetwo armies, and which had the better grounds to hope for success in thegreat conflict now impending. With the exception of one--Sharpsburg--whichwas a drawn battle, the Confederates had been victorious in every generalengagement up to this time. Scant rations, deprivation, and hardships ofevery kind had made them tired of the war; and the recent abundance hadnot only put them in better fighting condition than ever before, but madethem long to enjoy it permanently at home. 

The Federal army had changed commanders after every defeat, and thepresent one--General Meade--who had just been appointed, was not anofficer to inspire special confidence. With all this in favor of theSoutherners, all else seemed to conspire against them. On the morning ofJune 30, the day before the battle, Pickett's division was atChambersburg, thirty miles from Gettysburg; Hood's and McLaw's (theother two divisions of Longstreet's corps) fifteen miles nearerGettysburg; Hill's corps at Cashtown, nine miles from Gettysburg;Rodes's division of Ewell's corps at Carlisle, thirty miles distant;Johnson's at Greenville, and Early's near York. General Early levied forand obtained from the city of York several thousand pairs of shoes andsocks and a less number of hats for his men, and $26, 000 in money. 

The different portions of the Federal army at this time were spread outover a large area, south and east of Gettysburg. To the absence of ourcavalry, whose whereabouts since crossing the Potomac had not even beenknown by General Lee, was due the ignorance as to the location of theFederals, causing loss of time and the employment of other troops to dowhat the cavalry should have done. It is generally conceded that untilthey found themselves face to face the commander of neither armyexpected or desired this locality to be the battleground. And when weconsider the fact that armies have been known to maneuver for weeks fora vantage ground on which to give battle, we can realize the importanceof this seeming accident, which sealed the doom of the Confederacy. Forif the whole State of Pennsylvania had been gone over, it is probablethat no other place could have been found which afforded such advantagesas did this to the Northern army. 

Early's division had passed it several days before on his way to York, and Pettigrew's brigade of Hill's corps on July 1, while approaching insearch of shoes for his men, encountered Buford's Federal cavalry, precipitating the first day's conflict, in which Hill's corps, Rodes'sand Early's divisions captured 5, 000 prisoners and drove the Federalsthrough the town to the heights beyond. Our battalion of artillery, soonafter dark, passed southward through the outskirts of the town withEarly's division and bivouacked for the night. By dawn of the followingday (July 2) sufficient of the Federal army had arrived to occupy andfortify the heights. From where our battery was posted, a mile east ofthe town, we had in full view the end of Cemetery Hill, with an archedgateway for an entrance. To the left of it and joined by a depressedridge was Culp's Hill, steep and rugged as a mountain, all now held andfortified by the enemy. Jackson's old division, now commanded by Gen. Ed. Johnson, having arrived late in the night, formed at the base ofCulp's Hill, and before an hour of daylight had elapsed had stirred up ahornets' nest in their front. 

I must mention an incident that occurred during this forenoon quiteinteresting to myself. As we were standing by our guns, not yet havingfired a shot, General Ewell and his staff came riding by, andLieut. -Col. Sandy Pendleton, his adjutant, rode out from among them andhanded me two letters. To receive two letters in the army at any timewas an event, but here, away in the enemy's country, in the face oftheir frowning guns, for them to have come so far and then be deliveredat the hands of the General and his staff was quite something. One ofthe letters I recognized as being from my mother, the other aroused mycuriosity. The envelope, directed in a feminine hand, was very neat, butthe end had been burned off and the contents were held in place by anarrow red ribbon daintily tied. In so conspicuous a place, with abattle on, I could not trust myself to open my treasures. It was nearnight before a suitable time came, and my billet-doux contained thefollowing:

 _You are cordially invited to be present at the Commencement Exercises of the ----Female Seminary, on the evening of July 3d, 1863, at eight o'clock_ P. M. _Compliments of Gertrude ----. _

My feelings were inexpressible. How I longed to be there! To think ofsuch a place of quiet and peace as compared with my surroundings on thisbloody battlefield!

But to return to the serious features of the day. With the exception ofthe steady musketry firing by Johnson's men on Culp's Hill, the daypassed quietly until nearly four o'clock. At this time Andrews'sbattalion of artillery, led by Major Latimer, passed in front of us andwent into position two hundred yards to our left, and nearer the enemy. The ground sloped so as to give us a perfect view of his fourbatteries. Promptly other batteries joined those confronting us onCemetery Hill, and by the time Latimer's guns were unlimbered the gunson both sides were thundering. 

In less than five minutes one of Latimer's caissons was exploded, whichcalled forth a lusty cheer from the enemy. In five minutes more aFederal caisson was blown up, which brought forth a louder cheer fromus. In this action Latimer's batteries suffered fearfully, the AlleghanyRoughs alone losing twenty-seven men killed and wounded. Only one or twowere wounded in our battery, the proximity of Latimer's guns drawing thefire to them. Near the close of the engagement, Latimer, who was agraduate of the Virginia Military Institute, a mere youth in appearance, was killed. 

The artillery contest was a small part of the afternoon's work. One ofJohnson's brigades, after capturing breastworks and prisoners on Culp'sHill, pushed nearly to General Meade's headquarters. Rodes, usually soprompt, was occupying the town and failed to attack till late, and thenwith but two of his four brigades; but they charged over three lines ofbreastworks and captured several pieces of artillery, which had to beabandoned for want of support. Sickles's corps, having occupied the two"Round Tops" on the extreme left of the Federal line, advanced onLongstreet, and at four P. M. The two lines met in the celebrated "PeachOrchard, " and from that time until night fought furiously, the Federalsbeing driven back to their original ground. 

At the close of the second day the Confederates had gained ground on theright and left, and captured some artillery, but still nothing decisive. Another night passed, and the third and last day dawned on two anxiousarmies. Pickett, after a mysterious delay of twenty-four hours, arrivedduring the forenoon and became the left of Longstreet's corps. At twelveo'clock word was passed along our lines that when two signal-guns wereheard, followed by heavy firing, to open vigorously with our guns. Therewas no mistaking when that time came, and we joined with the threehundred guns that made the firing. For an hour or more a crash and roarof artillery continued that rolled and reverberated above, and made theearth under us tremble. When it began there was great commotion amongthe enemy's batteries in our front, some of which limbered up andgalloped along the crest of Cemetery Hill, but soon returned and renewedtheir fire on us. 

So far they had failed to do our battery any serious harm, but now eachvolley of their shells came closer and closer. At this time my attentionwas attracted to the second piece, a few paces to our left, and I saw ashell plow into the ground under Lieutenant Brown's feet and explode. Ittore a large hole, into which Brown sank, enveloped as he fell in smokeand dust. In an instant another shell burst at the trail of my gun, tearing the front half of Tom Williamson's shoe off, and wounding himsorely. A piece of it also broke James Ford's leg, besides cutting offthe fore leg of Captain Graham's horse. Ford was holding the lead-horsesof the limber, and, as they wheeled to run, their bridles were seized byRader, a shell struck the horse nearest to him, and, exploding at theinstant, killed all four of the lead-horses and stunned Rader. Thesesame horses and this driver had very nearly a similar experience (thoughnot so fatal) at Sharpsburg a year before, as already described. SamWilson, another member of our detachment, was also painfully wounded andknocked down by the same shell. 

This artillery bombardment was the prelude to Pickett's charge, whichtook place on the opposite side of Cemetery Hill, and out of our view. Culp's Hill, since the early morning previous, had been enveloped in aveil of smoke from Johnson's muskets, which had scarcely had time tocool during the thirty-six hours. 

The men of the Fourth Virginia Regiment had been gradually and steadilyadvancing from boulder to boulder, until they were almost under theenemy's fortifications along the crest of the ridge. To proceed fartherwas physically impossible, to retreat was almost certain death. So, ofthe College company alone, one of whom had already been killed and manywounded, sixteen, including Captain Strickler, were captured. To JohnMcKee, of this company, a stalwart Irish Federal said as he reached outto pull him up over the breastworks, "Gim-me your hand, Johnny Reb;you've give' us the bulliest fight of the war!"

Lieutenant "Cush" Jones determined to run the gauntlet for escape, andas he darted away the point of his scabbard struck a stone, and throwingit inverted above his head, lost out his handsome sword. Three bulletspassed through his clothing in his flight, and the boulder behind whichhe next took refuge was peppered by others. Here, also, my formermessmate, George Bedinger, now captain of a company in the Thirty-thirdVirginia Regiment, was killed, leading his "Greeks, " as he called hismen. 

About nine o'clock that evening, and before we had moved from ourposition, I received a message, through Captain Graham, from some of thewounded of our company, to go to them at their field-hospital. Followingthe messenger, I found them in charge of our surgeon, Dr. Herndon, occupying a neat brick cottage a mile in the rear, from which the ownershad fled, leaving a well-stocked larder, and from it we refreshedourselves most gratefully. Toward midnight orders came to move. Theambulances were driven to the door and, after the wounded, some eight orten in number, had been assisted into them, I added from the stores inthe house a bucket of lard, a crock of butter, a jar of apple-butter, aham, a middling of bacon, and a side of sole-leather. All for thewounded!

Feeling assured that we would not tarry much longer in Pennsylvania, andexpecting to reach the battery before my services would be needed, Iset out with the ambulances. We moved on until daylight and joined thewounded of the other batteries of our battalion, and soon after left, ata house by the wayside, a member of the Richmond Howitzers who wasdying. Our course was along a by-road in the direction of Hagerstown. Inthe afternoon, after joining the wagon-train, I found "Joe, " the coloredcook of my mess, in possession of a supernumerary battery-horse, which Iappropriated and mounted. Our column now consisted of ambulances loadedwith wounded men, wounded men on foot, cows, bulls, quartermasters, portable forges, surgeons, cooks, and camp-followers in general, allplodding gloomily along through the falling rain. 

We arrived at the base of the mountain about five P. M. And beganascending by a narrow road, leading obliquely to the left. Beforeproceeding farther some description of the horse I was riding isappropriate, as he proved an important factor in my experiences beforethe night was over. He was the tallest horse I ever saw outside of ashow, with a very short back and exceedingly long legs, which he handledpeculiarly, going several gaits at one time. Many a cannoneer had soughtrest on his back on the march, but none had ventured on so high a perchwhen going into battle. When half-way up the mountain we heard to ourleft oblique the distant mutter of a cannon, then in a few moments thesound was repeated, but we thought it was safely out of our course andfelt correspondingly comfortable. At intervals the report of that gunwas heard again and again. About dusk we reached the top of themountain, after many, many halts, and the sound of that cannon becamemore emphatic. 

After descending a few hundred yards there came from a bridle-path onour left, just as I passed it, three cavalry horses with empty saddles. This was rather ominous. The halts in the mixed column were nowfrequent, darkness having set in, and we had but little to say. Thatcannon had moved more to our front, and our road bore still more towhere it was thundering. We were now almost at the foot of the mountain, and to the left, nearer our front, were scattering musket-shots. Ourhalts were still short and frequent, and in the deep shadow of themountain it was pitch-dark. All of this time I had not a particle ofconfidence in my horse. I could not tell what was before me in the densedarkness, whether friend or foe, but suddenly, after pausing an instant, he dashed forward. For fifty or seventy-five yards every other sound wasdrowned by a roaring waterfall on my right; then, emerging from itsnoise, I was carried at a fearful rate close by dismounted men who werefiring from behind trees along the roadside, the flashes of their guns, "whose speedy gleams the darkness swallowed, " revealing me on my tallhorse with his head up. He must see safety ahead, and I let him fly. 

A hundred yards farther on our road joined the main pike at an acuteangle, and entering it he swept on. Then, just behind me, a Federalcannon was discharged. The charge of canister tore through the brush oneither side, and over and under me, and at the same instant my steed'shind leg gave way, and my heart sank with it. If struck at all, heimmediately rallied and outran himself as well as his competitors. Aftergetting out of the range of the firing and the shadow of the mountain, Isaw indistinctly our cavalrymen along the side of the road, and webantered each other as I passed. 

Farther on, at a toll-gate, I heard the voice of Tom Williamson. Hisambulance had broken down and he was being assisted toward the house. Idrew rein, but thought, "How can I help him? This horse must bewell-nigh done for, " and rode on. Since reaching the foot of themountain the way had been open and everything on it moving for life. Butagain the road was full, and approaching clatter, with the sharp reportsof pistols, brought on another rush, and away we went--wagons, woundedmen, negroes, forges, ambulances, cavalry--everything. 

This in time subsided and, feeling ashamed, I turned back to look aftermy wounded, my horse as reluctant as myself, and expecting every momentthe sound of the coming foe. A sudden snort and the timid step of mynervous steed warned me of breakers ahead. Peering through the darknessI saw coming toward me, noiseless and swift as the wind, an objectwhite as the driven snow. "What, " I asked myself, "are ghosts abroad, and in such a place? Is Gettysburg giving up her dead so soon?" But, asthe thing met me, a voice cried out, "Is that you, Ned? Is that you?Take me on your horse. Let me get in the saddle and you behind. " For amoment I was dumb, and wished it wasn't I. The voice was the voice ofLieutenant Brown, the same whom I had seen undermined by the shell atGettysburg, and who had not put a foot to the ground until now. Barefooted, bareheaded; nothing on but drawers and shirt--white as ashroud! The prospect that now confronted me instantly flashed through mymind. First, "Can this horse carry two?" Then I pictured myself withsuch a looking object in my embrace, and with nothing with which toconceal him. There were settlements ahead, daylight was approaching, andwhat a figure we would cut! It was too much for me, and I said, "No, geton behind, " feeling that the specter might retard the pursuing foe. Butmy tall horse solved the difficulty. Withdrawing my foot from thestirrup, Brown would put his in and try to climb up, when suddenly thehorse would "swap ends, " and down he'd go. Again he would try and almostmake it, and the horse not wheeling quickly enough I would give him thehint with my "off" heel. My relief can be imagined when an ambulancearrived and took Brown in. I accompanied him for a short distance, thenquickened my pace and overtook the train. Presently another clatterbehind and the popping of pistols. Riding at my side was a horseman, and by the flash of his pistol I saw it pointing to the ground at ourhorses' feet. 

Reaching the foot of a hill, my horse stumbled and fell as if to rise nomore. I expected to be instantly trampled out of sight. I heard a groan, but not where the horse's head should have been. Resting my feet on theground, thus relieving him of my weight, he got his head from under himand floundered forward, then to his feet and away. Farther on, a swifthorse without a rider was dashing by me. I seized what I supposed to behis bridle-rein, but it proved to be the strap on the saddle-bow, andthe pull I gave came near unhorsing me. 

The pursuit continued no farther. Not having slept for two days andnights, I could not keep awake, and my game old horse, now wearied out, would stagger heedlessly against the wheels of moving wagons. Just atdawn of day, in company with a few horsemen of our battalion, I rodethrough the quiet streets of Hagerstown, thence seven miles toWilliamsport. 

The wounded of our battalion had all been captured. A few, however, werenot carried off, but left until our army came up. Some of the cooks, etc. , escaped by dodging into the brush, but many a good horse and riderhad been run down and taken. At Williamsport I exchanged horses with aninfantryman while he was lying asleep on a porch, and had completed thetransaction before he was sufficiently awake to remonstrate. 

We were now entirely cut off from our army, and with what of the wagons, etc. , that remained were at the mercy of the enemy, as the Potomac wasswollen to a depth of twenty feet where I had waded a year before. Mostof the horses had to be _swum over_, as there was little room in theferry-boats for them. The river was so high that this was verydangerous, and only expert swimmers dared to undertake it. Twentydollars was paid for swimming a horse over, and I saw numbers swept downby the current and landed hundreds of yards below, many on the side fromwhich they had started. I crossed in a ferry-boat on my recentlyacquired horse, having left my faithful old charger, his head encased inmud to the tips of his ears, with mingled feelings of sadness andgratitude. 

A great curiosity to understand this battle and battlefield induced meto visit it at the first opportunity, and in 1887, twenty-four yearsafter it was fought, I, with Colonel Poague, gladly accepted aninvitation from the survivors of Pickett's division to go with them toGettysburg, whither they had been invited to meet the PhiladelphiaBrigade, as their guests, and go over the battlefield together. Afterour arrival there, in company with two officers of the PhiladelphiaBrigade, one of Pickett's men and an intelligent guide, I drove over thefield. As a part of our entertainment we saw the Pickett men formed onthe same ground and in the same order in which they had advanced to thecharge. Farther on we saw the superb monuments, marking the locationof the different Federal regiments, presenting the appearance of a vastcemetery. The position held by the Federals for defense was perfect. Itsextent required the whole of the Confederate army present to occupy theone line they first adopted, with no troops to spare for flanking. Itsshape, somewhat like a fish-hook, enabled the Federal army to reinforcepromptly any part that was even threatened. Its terrain was such thatthe only ground sufficiently smooth for an enemy to advance on, that infront of its center, was exposed throughout, not only to missiles fromits front, but could be raked from the heights on its left. And, inaddition to all this, the whole face of the country, when the battle wasfought, was closely intersected with post and rail and stone fences. 

[Illustration: EDWARD A. MOORE

(February, 1907)]

CHAPTER XXIII

AT "THE BOWER"--RETURN TO ORANGE COUNTY, VIRGINIA--BLUE RUNCHURCH--BRISTOW STATION--RAPPAHANNOCK BRIDGE--SUPPLEMENTING CAMP RATIONS

To return to my retreat from Gettysburg. The clothes that I wore wereall that I now possessed. My blanket, extra wearing apparel, lard, apple-butter, sole-leather, etc. , with the wounded, were in the hands ofthe Federals. Being completely cut off from our army, I set out forWinchester. Near Martinsburg I passed the night sleeping on theground--my first sleep in sixty hours--and reached Winchester thefollowing day. In a day or two, thinking our army had probably reachedthe Potomac, I turned back to join it. On my way thither I called at"The Bower, " the home of my messmate, Steve Dandridge. This was afavorite resort of Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, where, accompanied by thecelebrated banjoist, Joe Sweeny, merry nights were passed with song anddance. I was overwhelmed with kindness by Mr. And Mrs. Dandridge, theirdaughters and nieces. They would not hear of my leaving; at any rate, until they had time to make me some undergarments. In the afternoon Iaccompanied the young ladies to the fields blackberrying, and had somejolly laughs. They felt that a Confederate soldier should be treatedlike a king, that he must be worn out with marching and fighting. Theyinsisted on my sitting in the shade while they gathered and brought methe choicest berries, and actually wanted to let the fences down, tosave me the effort of climbing. At that time I weighed one hundred andninety pounds, was in vigorous health and strength, tough as hickory, and could go over or through a Virginia rail fence as deftly as a mule. It was some days before our army could recross the Potomac, on accountof high water. As I rode in, on my return to the battery, I was given aregular cheer, all thinking that I was probably, by that time, in FortDelaware. 

Our wounded had been captured in Pennsylvania, except Tom Williamson, who was left at the toll-house and picked up as our battery came by. Ashe had become my bedfellow since Stuart's death, I was sent with him toWinchester, where I cared for him at the home of Mrs. Anne Magill. During my stay Randolph Tucker, a brother of Mrs. Magill, and BishopWilmer, of Alabama, were guests in the house, and Mr. Tucker kept thehousehold alive with his songs and jokes. After a week or more in camp, near Bunker Hill, our despondent army passed through Winchester, thenceby Front Royal across the Blue Ridge, and encamped for the remainder ofthe summer in Orange County, with men and horses greatly depleted innumber and spirits. 

Our battery camped at Blue Run Church and near a field of corn. Roastingears afforded the chief portion of our living. It was surprising to seehow much, in addition to the army rations, a man could consume day afterday, or rather night after night, with no especial alteration in hisphysique. 

Soup was a favorite dish, requiring, as it did, but one vessel for allthe courses, and the more ingredients it contained, the more it wasrelished. Merrick claimed to be an adept in the culinary art, andproposed to several of us that if we would "club in" with him he wouldconcoct a pot that would be food for the gods. He was to remain in camp, have the water boiling, and the meat sufficiently cooked by the time theothers returned from their various rounds in search of provender. In duetime, one after another, the foragers showed up, having been verysuccessful in their acquisitions, which, according to Merrick'sdirections, were consigned to the pot. As some fresh contribution, whichhe regarded as especially savory, was added, Merrick's countenance wouldbrighten up. At one time he sat quietly musing, then gave expression tohis joy in an Irish ditty. His handsome suit of clothes, donned atHagerstown, was now in tatters, which made his appearance the moreludicrous as he "cut the pigeon-wing" around the seething cauldron. Hehad particularly enjoined upon us, when starting out, to procure, atall hazards, some okra, which we failed to get, and, in naming aloud thevarious items, as each appeared on the surface of the water, he wound uphis soliloquy with, "And now, Lord, for a little okra!"

In September the army moved again toward Manassas, about seventy milesdistant. When we arrived at Bristow, the next station south of Manassas, an engagement had just taken place, in which Gen. A. P. Hill had beendisastrously outwitted by his adversary, General Warren, and the groundwas still strewn with our dead. The Federals were drawn up in two linesof battle, the one in front being concealed in the railroad-cut, whilethe rear line, with skirmishers in front, stood in full view. TheConfederates, unaware of the line in the cut, advanced to the attackwithout skirmishers and were terribly cut up by the front line, anddriven back, with a loss of several pieces of artillery and scores ofmen. The delay caused by this unfortunate affair gave the Federal armyample time to withdraw at leisure. General Lee arrived on the scene justat the close of this affair and was asked, by General Hill, if he shouldpursue the then retreating Federals. He replied, "No, General Hill; allthat can now be done is to bury your unfortunate dead. "

After this we returned to the west side of the Rappahannock and encampedat Pisgah Church, overlooking the plains about Brandy Station. As thewar was prolonged, Confederate rations proportionately diminished, bothin quantity and variety. Consequently, to escape the pangs of hunger, the few opportunities that presented themselves were gladly seized. Inthe absence of the sportsmen of peace times, game had become quiteabundant, especially quail. But our "murmurings, " if any there were, didnot avail, as did those of the Israelites, "to fill the camp. " I soonsucceeded in getting an Enfield rifle, a gun not designed for such smallgame. By beating Minie-balls out flat, then cutting the plates intosquare blocks or slugs, I prepared my ammunition, and in the firsteleven shots killed nine quail on the wing. I was shooting for the pot, and shot to kill. 

From this camp our battery was ordered to occupy a fort on the west sideof the river, near Rappahannock Station. Immediately across the riverHayes's and Hoke's brigades of Early's division occupied a line ofbreastworks as a picket or outpost. A pontoon bridge (a bridge ofboats), in place of the railroad bridge, which had been burned, servedas a crossing. While a dozen or more of our battery were a mile in therear of the fort, getting a supply of firewood, another member of thecompany came to us at a gallop, with orders to return as quickly aspossible to the fort. On our arrival the indications of an attack fromthe enemy were very apparent. They must have anticipated immenseslaughter, as no less than a hundred of their ambulances were plainlyvisible. About four P. M. They opened on us with artillery, and fromthat time until sundown a spirited contest was kept up. While this wasin progress their infantry advanced, but, after a brief but rapid fireof musketry, almost perfect quiet was restored. 

While working at my gun I received what I thought to be a violent kickon the calf of my leg, but, turning to discover whence the blow came, saw a Minie-ball spinning on the ground. It was very painful for a time, but did not interrupt my service at the gun. It was too dark for us tosee what was going on across the river, but the sudden and completestillness following the firing was very mysterious. While speculatingamong ourselves as to what it meant, a half-naked infantryman camealmost breathless into our midst and announced that both brigades hadbeen captured, he having escaped by swimming the river. One of ourlieutenants refused to believe his statement and did the worthy fellowcruel injustice in accusing him of skulking. That his story was truesoon became evident. Our situation was now extremely dangerous, as theFederals had only to cross on the pontoon bridge a hundred yards fromthe fort and "gobble us up. " About nine o'clock General Early, with hisother two brigades, arrived. After acquainting himself with thesurrounding conditions, he asked our batterymen for a volunteer to burnthe bridge. To accomplish this would involve extreme danger, as themoment a light was struck for the purpose a hundred shots could beexpected from the opposite end, not more than seventy-five yards away. However, William Effinger, of Harrisonburg, Virginia, one of ourcannoneers, promptly volunteered to undertake it; and soon had thebridge in flames, the enemy not firing a shot. For this gallant anddaring act, Effinger, after a long time, received a lieutenant'scommission and was assigned to another branch of the service. 

From this perilous situation we came off surprisingly well, but lostRobert Bell, of Winchester, Virginia. He was struck by a large piece ofshell, which passed through his body. During the hour he survived, hiscompanions who could leave their posts went to say good-by. He was abrave soldier and a modest, unassuming gentleman as well. The Federals, satisfied with the capture of the two celebrated brigades without lossto themselves, withdrew--and again we returned to the vicinity of BrandyStation. 

In an artillery company two sentinels are kept on post--one to see afterthe guns and ammunition, the other to catch and tie loose horses orextricate them when tangled in their halters, and the like. Merrick'sname and mine, being together on the roll, we were frequently on guardat the same time, and, to while away the tedious hours of the night, would seek each other's company. Our turn came while in this camp onedark, chilly night; the rain falling fast and the wind moaning throughthe leafless woods. As we stood near a fitful fire, Merrick, apparentlybecoming oblivious of the dismal surroundings, began to sing. He playedthe rôle of a lover serenading his sweetheart, opening with some livelyair to attract her attention. The pattering of the rain he construed asher tread to the lattice; then poured forth his soul in deepest pathos(the progress of his suit being interpreted, aside, to me), and againfixed his gaze on the imaginary window. Each sound made by the storm heexplained as some recognition: the creaking of a bent tree was thegentle opening of the casement, and the timely falling of a bough brokenby the wind was a bouquet thrown to his eager grasp, over which he wentinto raptures. Whether the inspiration was due to a taste of somestimulant or to his recurring moods of intense imagination, I could notsay, but the performance was genuinely artistic. 

During the last night of our sojourn in this camp I had anotherexperience of as fully absorbing interest. A very tough piece of beef(instead of quail) for supper proved more than my digestive organs couldstand. After retiring to my bunk several sleepless hours passedwrestling with my burden. About one o'clock, the struggle being over, with an intense feeling of comfort I was falling into a sound sleep whenI heard, in the distance, the shrill note of a bugle, then another andanother, as camp after camp was invaded by urgent couriers; then our ownbugle took up the alarm and sounded the call to hitch up. Meantime, drums were rolling, till the hitherto stillness of night had become adin of noise. We packed up and pulled out through the woods in the dark, with gun No. 1, to which I belonged, the rear one of the battery. Asmall bridge, spanning a ditch about five feet deep, had been passedover safely by the other guns and caissons in front, but when mygun-carriage was midway on it the whole structure collapsed. Thestruggle the detachment of men and horses underwent during the rest ofthis night of travail constituted still another feature of thevicissitudes of "merry war. " Fortunately for us, Lieut. Jack Jordan wasin charge, and, as Rockbridge men can testify, any physical difficultythat could not be successfully overcome by a Jordan, where men andhorses were involved, might well be despaired of. 

After reaching the Rapidan, a day was spent skirmishing with the enemy'sartillery on the hills beyond. After which both sides withdrew--we toour former camps. 

A short time thereafter I called on my old friends of the Collegecompany, whom we seldom met since our severance from the StonewallBrigade. Two of these college boys, Tedford Barclay and George Chapin, told me that a recent provision had been announced, to the effect that acommission would be granted to any private who should perform some actof conspicuous gallantry in battle, and they had each resolved to earnthe offered reward, and to be privates no longer. They were tired ofcarrying muskets and cartridge-boxes; and, in the next fight, as theyexpressed it, they had determined to be "distinguished or extinguished. "

The determined manner with which it was said impressed me, so that Iawaited results with interest. A fortnight had not elapsed before theiropportunity came, and they proved true to their resolve. Under a gallingfire their regiment hesitated to advance, when the two lads pushed tothe front of the line of battle and climbed an intervening fence. Chapinwas killed, and Barclay, who survives to this day, received for hisdaring courage the promised commission as lieutenant. 

CHAPTER XXIV

BATTLE OF MINE RUN--MARCH TO FREDERICK'S HALL--WINTER-QUARTERS--SOCIALAFFAIRS--AGAIN TO THE FRONT--NARROW ESCAPE FROM CAPTURE BY GENERALDAHLGREN--FURLOUGHS--CADETS RETURN FROM NEW MARKET--SPOTTSYLVANIA ANDTHE WILDERNESS--RETURN TO ARMY AT HANOVER JUNCTION--PANIC AT NIGHT

The movement in which we were next engaged included the battle of MineRun, which has been designated by a military critic as "a campaign ofstrategy, " an account of which is, therefore, not within my province. The Federals on this occasion did most of the marching and, aftercrossing the Rapidan at several different fords, were confronted not farfrom our quarters at Mine Run, in Orange County. After breaking camp ourfirst intimation that a battle was expected was the invariable profusionof playing-cards along the road. I never saw or heard of a Bible orprayer-book being cast aside at such a time, but cards were alwaysthrown away by soldiers going into battle. 

After a spirited engagement between Johnson's division and Warren'scorps, the Federals lost time sufficient for the Confederates toconstruct a formidable line of breastworks. The position occupied by ourbattery was in the midst of a brigade of North Carolinians who had seensome service in their own State, but had never participated in a realbattle. From a Federal shell, which burst some distance overhead, a thinpiece twirled downward and fell like a leaf within a few feet of ourgun. I saw one of their lieutenants, who was lying in the trench, eye itsuspiciously, then creep out and pick it up. Presently the colonel ofhis regiment passed along and the lieutenant said, as he held up thetrophy, "Colonel, just look at this. I was lying right _here_, and itfell right _there_. " This brigade had no occasion to test its mettleuntil the following spring, but then, in the great battle ofSpottsylvania, it fought gallantly and lost its general--Gary--who waskilled. 

Naturally, after such a determined advance on the part of the Federals, a general attack was expected; but, after spending two days threateningdifferent portions of our lines, they withdrew in the night, leavingonly men sufficient to keep their camp-fires burning for a time, as aruse. The road along which we followed them for some miles was strewn atintervals with feathers from the beds of the people whose houses theyhad ransacked. 

It was now October, and the chilly autumn nights suggested retiring tomore comfortable surroundings. Our battalion of artillery was orderedto Frederick's Hall, on the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad, about fiftymiles from Richmond. In this neighborhood there were quite a number ofnice people, whose society and hospitality afforded those of us soinclined much agreeable entertainment. A white paper-collar became nounusual sight, but when two of our members appeared one afternoonadorned with blue cravats a sensation was created. 

A member of our battery returned from a visit to a family of formeracquaintances some twelve miles from camp, and brought an invitation forsome of his friends to accompany him on his next visit. Soon thereafterfour of us went, through a drizzling rain, I riding a blind horse, theothers on foot. Night overtook us soon after leaving camp, and when, within a mile of our destination, we asked at a house by the roadsidefor directions as to the way, a gruff voice informed us that anintervening creek was too high to cross, and insisted on our coming inand spending the night. We declined this, and the man said, "Well, I'llsend a negro boy with you; but you'll have to come back, " which provedto be the case. On our return we were boisterously welcomed. A blazingfire of dry pine soon lit up the room, with its clean, bare floor, anddisclosed the figure of our host--Peter Johnson by name--a stout, burlyman, clad in homespun and a fur cap. He said his wife and children hadbeen "a-bed" since dark, were tired of his jokes, and that he wasdelighted to have a fresh audience; that it was past supper-time andsome hours before breakfast, but that fasting was nothing new toConfederate soldiers. The names of two of our party, McCorkle andMcClintic, he said, were too long and that he would call them Cockle andFlint, but before proceeding further he would give us some music. Forthwith he produced a short flute, took a seat on the foot of thestairs (in the far corner of the room), and played "The Devil's Dream, ""The Arkansas Traveler, " etc. , beating time with his foot. 

Here we passed the night in comfortable beds and, after a bountifulbreakfast, left with a pressing invitation to return for a rabbit-chasewith his hounds, which we gladly accepted and afterward enjoyed. Thiswas typical of eastern Virginia and her hospitable, whole-souled"Tuckahoes, " whose houses were never too full for them to hail apasser-by and compel him to come in. This interruption detracted nothingfrom the pleasure of the visit for which we had originally set out. 

A short time after our return to Frederick's Hall our whole artillerycommand narrowly escaped capture by a band of cavalry raiders undercommand of Colonel Dahlgren. About fifty of the cannoneers of thebattalion had been furnished with muskets and regularly exercised in theinfantry drill. When the raiders arrived within a mile of ourwinter-quarters they inquired of the country people as to the characterof troops occupying our camp, and were informed by some negroes that the"men had muskets with bayonets on them. " As infantry was not what theywere seeking, they gave us the go-by and passed on toward Richmond, thecapture of which was the chief object of the expedition. In the attackon Richmond, which occurred in the night, Dahlgren was killed and hiscommand defeated with heavy loss. 

Encouraged by the visit already mentioned, I accompanied my friend, TomWilliamson, on a visit by rail to his relations, the Garnetts, nearHanover Junction; thence, after spending the night, to some friends inCaroline County. On our return to camp we found preparations on foot fora move to the front, and although we left camp by eleven o'clock thatnight not more than three or four miles was traveled by daylight. In thedarkness one of our twenty-pounders went over a thirty-foot embankment, carrying the drivers and eight horses into the mud and water at itsbase. 

While on the march later in the day, to save distance, I undertook topass near a house, in the yard of which were two men with a largeNewfoundland dog. A smaller dog, chained to the corner of the house, broke loose as I passed and viciously seized the tail of my overcoat. Instantly, to my dismay, the large dog left the men and dashed straightfor me; but, instead of rending me, knocked my assailant heels over headand held him down until secured by the men and chained. 

Before reaching the front, it was learned that we had been called out ona false alarm. Our return to Frederick's Hall was by a more circuitousroute, near which was an establishment where apple-brandy was for sale. The stock had been heavily watered, and the price of shares (in adrink), even then, too far above par for eleven dollars a month toafford scarcely more than a smell. However, after reaching camp, morethan ordinary wrestling and testing of strength were indulged in. 

Two years had elapsed since any furloughs had been given, except to thesick and wounded. The granting of them was now revived, and those whohad been longest from home were, of course, to be served first. My turncame in March. I shall never forget the impression made on me as I satat the supper-table at home, on the evening of my arrival. My father, mother, sisters, and little niece were present; and, after the noise, loud talking, etc. , in camp, the quiet was painful. It was just as ithad always been, except the vacant places of the boys at the front;still, I felt that something was wrong. Equally as impressive was themild diet of cold bread, milk, and weak-looking tea. The effect was thesame as that produced by a sudden transition from a low to a highaltitude, or vice versa, requiring time for adaptation, as I soonexperienced. My fifteen days' leave of absence having expired, Ireturned to camp. 

To induce the boys who were under age, and still at home, to enlist, athirty-day furlough was offered to every soldier who would secure arecruit for the service. By this means many boys of only fifteen orsixteen years joined the army, to enable a long-absent kinsman to gethome. McClintic, of my mess, got this furlough by the enlistment of hisbrother, and while at home drummed up the son of a neighbor, WilliamBarger, whom he brought back with him to repeat the operation. Toallowing this second furlough the authorities, right or wrong, objected. The matter was compromised by McClintic very generously assigning theyoung recruit to my credit, by which I got the furlough. 

Before my return to the army, at the expiration of the thirty days, theGrant campaign had opened and the great battles of the Wilderness andSpottsylvania had been fought. Our battery had escaped without seriousloss, as the character of the country afforded little opportunity forthe use of artillery. From Staunton I traveled on a freight train withthe cadets of the Virginia Military Institute and their professors, whowere now the conspicuous heroes of the hour, having just won immortalfame in their charge, on May 15, at New Market. Among the professors wasmy friend and former messmate, Frank Preston, with an empty sleeve, nowcaptain of a cadet company, and Henry A. Wise, Jr. , who took command ofthe cadets after the wounding of Colonel Shipp, their commandant. 

Our army was now near Hanover Junction, twenty-five miles from Richmond, and engaged in its death struggle with Grant's countless legions. Ifany one period of the four years of the war were to be selected as anexample of Southern endurance and valor, it probably should be thecampaign from the Wilderness, beginning May 5 and closing a month laterat Petersburg, in which the Confederate army, numbering 64, 000half-clothed, half-fed men, successfully resisted a splendidly equippedarmy of 140, 000--inflicting a loss of 60, 000 killed and wounded. 

Much has been said and written concerning the comparative equipment, etc. , of the two armies. A striking reference to it I heard in aconversation at General Lee's home in Lexington after the war. Of thestudents who attended Washington College during his presidency he alwaysrequested a visit to himself whenever they returned to the town. Withthis request they were very ready to comply. While performing thispleasant duty one evening, during a visit to my old home in Lexington, Mrs. Lee, sitting in her invalid-chair, was discoursing to me, feelingly, on the striking contrast between the ragged clothing worn byConfederate soldiers as compared with that worn by the Federals, as shehad seen the Federal troops entering Richmond after its evacuation. TheGeneral, who was pacing the floor, paused for a moment, his eye lightingup, and, at the conclusion of her remarks, said, as he inclined forwardwith that superb grace, "But, ah! Mistress Lee, we gave them someawfully hard knocks, with all of our rags!"

After parting with my cadet friends at Hanover Junction, soon afterday-dawn, I readily found our battery bivouacking in sight of thestation. Some of the men were lying asleep; those who had risen seemednot yet fully awake. All looked ten years older than when I had biddenthem good-by a month before--hollow-eyed, unwashed, jaded, and hungry;paper-collars and blue neckties shed and forgotten. The contents of mybasket (boxes were now obsolete), consisting of pies sweetened withsorghum molasses, and other such edibles, were soon devoured, and Ireported "returned for duty. " In a few hours we were on the road toRichmond, with the prospect of another sojourn in the surroundingswamps. 

On the night of June 1 our battery was bivouacked in the edge of a densepiece of woods, the guns being parked in open ground just outside, whilethe men were lying in the leaves, with the horses tied among them. Aboutmidnight one of the horses became tangled in his halter and fell to theground, struggling and kicking frantically to free himself. A man closeby, being startled from sleep, began halloaing, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Thealarm was taken up by one after another as each roused from slumber, increasing and spreading the noise and confusion; by this time thehorses had joined in, pawing and snorting in terror, completing thereign of pandemonium. As darkness prevented successful running, someof the men climbed trees or clung to them for protection, while thesentinel over the guns in the open broke from his beat, supposingGrant's cavalry was upon us. In a space of two minutes all suddenlybecame still, the climbers stealthily slid from their trees, and othersgingerly picked their way back to their lairs, "ashamed as men who fleein battle. " For some time, as the cause and absurdity of the incidentwas realized, there issued now and then from a pile of leaves a chuckleof suppressed laughter. 

[Illustration: EDWARD H. HYDE

(Color-bearer)]

CHAPTER XXV

SECOND COLD HARBOR--WOUNDED--RETURN HOME--REFUGEEING FROM HUNTER

After spending the following day and night in "Camp Panic, " we movedforward early on the morning of June 3 to the field of the memorablesecond Cold Harbor. Minie-balls were rapping against the trees as wedrove through a copse of small timber to occupy a temporary redoubt inthe line of breastworks beyond. While the guns halted briefly beforedriving in to unlimber, I walked forward to see what was in front. Themoment I came into view a Minie-ball sung by my head and passed throughthe clothes of the cannoneer, Barton McCrum, who was a few steps fromme, suggesting to both of us to lie low until called for as videttes. Perched in the tops of the trees beyond the half-mile of open field inour front, the enemy's sharpshooters, with telescope sights on theirrifles, blazed away at every moving object along our line. It was noonbefore their artillery opened on us, and, in the firing which ensued, alarge barn a hundred yards in our front was set on fire by a shell andburned to the ground. 

An hour or two later, during this brisk cannonade, I, being No. 3, stood with my thumb on the vent as the gun was being loaded. From ashell which exploded a few yards in front I was struck on the breast bythe butt-end, weighing not less than three pounds, and at the same timeby a smaller piece on the thigh. After writhing for a time I wasaccompanied to our surgeon in the rear. The brass button on my jacket, which I still have as a memento, was cut almost in two and the shirtbutton underneath driven to the breast-bone, besides other smallergashes. A large contusion was made by the blow on my thigh, and myclothing was very much torn. After my wounds had been dressed I passedthe night at the quarters of my friend and fellow-townsman, Capt. Charles Estill, of the Ordnance Department, who already had in chargehis brother Jack, wounded in a cavalry engagement the day before. 

An hour after dark, as I sat by the light of a camp-fire, enjoying therelief and rest, as well as the agreeable company of old friends, therattle of musketry two miles away had gradually increased into theproportions of a fierce battle. The feelings of one honorably out ofsuch a conflict, but listening in perfect security, may be betterimagined than described. This, like a curfew bell, signaled the close ofa day of frightful and probably unparalleled carnage. Within the spaceof a single hour in the forenoon the Federal army had been three timesrepulsed with a loss of thirteen thousand men killed and wounded; afterwhich their troops firmly refused to submit themselves to furtherbutchery. This statement is made on the evidence of Northern historians. 

After a night's rest I was sent to Richmond, where I received a transferto a hospital in Staunton. Sheridan's cavalry having interrupted travelover the Virginia Central Railroad, I went by rail to Lynchburg, via theSouthside Road, with Captain Semmes and eight or ten cadets on theirreturn to Lexington with artillery horses pressed into service. Learning, in Lynchburg, that Hunter's army was near Staunton, Icontinued with the cadets, riding one of their artillery horses, but wastoo much exhausted to proceed far, and stopped for the night on the way. Here I learned from refugees that Hunter was advancing toward Lexington. As the whole country seemed now to be overrun by the Federals, to avoidthem was very difficult. 

I resumed my journey toward home, frequently meeting acquaintances whowere seeking safety elsewhere. When within four or five miles of thetown, while ascending a long hill, I heard the sound of a drum and fifenot far ahead. Presently I recognized the tune played to be "YankeeDoodle. " I could not believe it to be the vanguard of Hunter's army, butwhat on earth could it be? However, at the top of the hill I saw a trainof refugee wagons preceded by two negroes who were making the music. 

I remained at home only a day and a night, at the expiration of whichtime General McCausland (the first captain of our battery) with hisbrigade of cavalry was within a mile of town, closely pursued byHunter's whole army. I spent half of the night assisting my mother andthe servants (our slaves) to conceal from the marauders what flour, bacon, etc. , the family still had; and before sunrise the next morningset out, mounted on my father's horse, for a safer place. By this timemy wounds had become very painful, and my leg had turned a dark bluecolor from the thigh to the knee. 

A brief account of my experience while refugeeing may be of interest, asit will give an idea of the horror with which our non-combatantsregarded the invasion of their homes by our fellow-countrymen of theNorth, who had now resorted to fire, after learning by bitter experiencethat the sword alone could not restore us to the blessings of the Union. 

My destination was the home of my aunt, Mrs. Allen, forty miles distant, in Bedford County. After passing through the gap between the two peaksof Otter, I reached my aunt's and found there three officers fromLouisiana recovering from wounds. After a respite of two days one of theofficers, on his return from a neighbor's, brought information thatMcCausland's command was approaching through the mountain-pass, withHunter in close pursuit. In a few hours our house of refuge was overrunby McCausland's hungry soldiers. Again I went through the process ofhelping to hide valuables and packing up what was to be hauled away. Istarted at dawn next morning with the officers, leaving my aunt and herthree daughters very forlorn and unprotected. When I left she gave methe pistol which her son Robert, colonel of the Twenty-eighth VirginiaRegiment, was wearing when he fell in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. Inour care were the loaded wagons, negro men, lowing cows, and bleatingsheep. 

That afternoon, after exchanging my gray for a fleet-footed cavalryhorse ridden by one of the officers, I rode back from our place ofhiding, some miles south of Liberty, to reconnoiter; but, after passingthrough the town, met General McCausland at the head of his brigadefalling back toward Lynchburg, and rode back a short distance with himto return to my party of refugees, who meantime had moved farther on. Next day I stopped at a house by the wayside to get dinner, and had justtaken my seat at the table when there arose a great commotion outside, with cries of "Yankee cavalry! Yankee cavalry!" Stepping to the door, Isaw a stream of terrified school-children crying as they ran by, andrefugees flying for the woods. In a moment I was on my fleet-footed dun, not taking time to pick up a biscuit of my untasted dinner nor thepillow worn between my crippled leg and the saddle, and joined in theflight. I had noticed a yearling colt in the yard of the house as Ientered, and in five minutes after I started a twelve-year-old boymounted on the little thing, barebacked, shot by me with the speed of agreyhound. A hundred yards farther on I overtook some refugee wagonsfrom about Lexington, whose owners had left them on the road and betakenthemselves to the woods; but there still stood by them a mulatto man ofour town--Lindsay Reid by name--who indignantly refused to be routed, and was doing his utmost, with voice and example, to stem the tide, saying, "It is a shame to fear anything; let's stand and give them afight!"

A moment later a negro boy rode by at a gallop in the direction fromwhich the alarm came. In reply to the inquiry as to where he was going, he called out, "After Marse William. " Relying on him as a picket, Iremained in view of the road. In ten minutes he appeared, returning atfull speed, and called out to me, as he rode up, that he had "run almostinto them. " They were close behind, and I must "fly or be caught. " I waswell alongside of him as he finished the warning, and for half a mileour horses ran neck and neck. He said he would take me to his oldmaster's, an out-of-the-way place, several miles distant. Arrivingthere, a nice country house and very secluded, I concealed my horse inthe woods as best I could and went to the house, where I was welcomedand cared for by two young ladies and their aged father, Mr. Hurt, whowas blind. I was now much exhausted, and determined to take a rest, withthe chances of being captured. The occasion of the alarm was a body ofFederal cavalry which had been sent on a raid to meet Hunter's army, advancing on Lynchburg. 

After two days in this quiet abode I set out to make my way past therear of Hunter's army and eventually to reach home. On the way toLiberty I was informed that a train of Hunter's wagons and many negroes, under a cavalry escort, were then passing northward through the town. Tosatisfy myself (being again mounted on my father's gray) I rode to thetop of a hill overlooking the place. Then a strikingly pretty young ladyof about sixteen, bareheaded (although it was not then the fashion), andalmost out of breath, who had seen me coming into danger, ran to meet meand called, "For God's sake, fly; the town is full of Yankees!" Manyyears after the war a lady friend of Norfolk, Virginia, who wasrefugeeing in Liberty at the time, told me that she had witnessed theincident, and said that the girl who had run out to warn me hadafterward married a Federal officer. I then went around the town andcrossed the road a mile west of it, learning that the wagon-train, etc. , had all passed. 

From this place on, throughout the territory over which this patrioticarmy had operated, were the desolated homes of helpless people, strippedof every valuable they possessed, and outraged at the wanton destructionof their property, scarcely knowing how to repair the damage or to takeup again their broken fortunes. Night had now fallen, but a bright moonrather added to the risks of continuing my journey. An old negro man, however, kindly agreed to pilot me through fields and woods, avoidingthe highways, "as far as Colonel Nichol's" (his master's). When near hisdestination he went ahead to reconnoiter, and soon returned from thehouse, accompanied by one of the ladies, who told me that their houseand premises had been overrun by Yankees all day, and that some of themwere still prowling about, and, in her fright, pointed to each bush asan armed foe. 

Camp-fires still burning enabled me to steer clear of the road, but itwas midnight when I reached my aunt's, and, going to the negro cabinfarthest from her dwelling, I succeeded, after a long time, in getting"Uncle" Mose to venture out of his door. He said he thought the Yankeeswere all gone, but to wait till he crept up to the house and let "OleMiss" know I was about. He reported the way clear, and I was soon in theside porch. After the inmates were satisfied as to my identity, the doorwas opened just enough for me to squeeze through. The family, consistingof females, including the overseer's wife, who had come for protection, quietly collected in the sitting-room, where a tallow candle, placed notto attract attention from outside, shed a dim light over my ghostlikecompanions clad in their night-dresses. The younger ladies were almosthysterical, and all looked as if they had passed through a fearful stormat sea, as various experiences were recounted. The house had beenransacked from garret to cellar, and what could not be devoured orcarried off was scattered about, and such things as sugar, vinegar, flour, salt, etc. , conglomerately mixed. The only food that escaped waswhat the negroes had in their cabins, and this they freely divided withthe whites. 

The next day I concealed myself and horse in the woods, and was lyinghalf-asleep when I heard footsteps stealthily approaching through theleaves. Presently a half-grown negro, carrying a small basket, stumbledalmost on me. He drew back, startled at my question, "What do you want?"and replied, "Nothin'; I jus' gwine take 'Uncle' Mose he dinner. Heworkin' in de fiel' over yander. " My dinner was to be sent by a boynamed Phil, so I said, "Is that you, Phil?" "Lordy! Is that you, MarseEddie? I thought you was a Yankee! Yas, dis is me, and here's yer dinnerI done brung yer. " Phil, who belonged to my aunt, had run off severalweeks before, but of his own accord had returned the preceding day, andthis was our first meeting. 

As Hunter's army was still threatening Lynchburg, to avoid thescouting-parties scouring the country in his rear I set out on Sundaymorning to make my way back to Lexington by Peteet's Gap. I was scarcelyout of sight--in fact one of my cousins, as I learned afterward, ran tothe porch to assure herself that I was gone--when twenty-five or thirtyFederal cavalry, accompanied by a large, black dog, and guided by one ofmy aunt's negroes armed and dressed in Federal uniform, galloped intothe yard and searched the house for "rebel soldiers. " Passing throughthe Federal campground, from among the numerous household articles, etc. , I picked up a book, on the fly-leaf of which was written, "Captured at Washington College, Lexington, _Rockingham_ County, Virginia. " That afternoon, as I was slowly toiling up the steep mountainpath almost overgrown with ferns, I was stopped by an old, white-beardedmountaineer at a small gate which he held open for me. While asking forthe news, after I had dismounted, he noticed the split button on my coatand my torn trousers, and, pausing for a moment, he said, very solemnly, "Well, you ought to be a mighty good young man. " I asked why he thoughtso. "Well, " said he, "the hand of God has certainly been around you. "

That night I spent at Judge Anderson's, in Arnold's Valley, and the nextday reached Lexington--a very different Lexington from the one I hadleft a fortnight before. The Virginia Military Institute barracks, theprofessors' houses, and Governor Letcher's private home had been burned, and also all neighboring mills, etc. , while the intervening and adjacentgrounds were one great desolate common. Preparations had also been madeto burn Washington College, when my father, who was a trustee of thatinstitution, called on General Hunter, and, by explaining that it wasendowed by and named in honor of General Washington, finally succeededin preventing its entire destruction, although much valuable apparatus, etc. , had already been destroyed. 

Comparisons are odious, but the contrast between the conduct of Northernand Southern soldiers during their invasions of each other's territoryis very striking and suggestive; especially when taken in connectionwith the fact that the Federal army, from first to last, numberedtwenty-eight hundred thousand men, and the Confederates not more thansix hundred and fifty thousand. 

General Early, with three divisions, having been despatched from thearmy near Richmond, had reached Lynchburg in time to prevent itsoccupancy by Hunter, who promptly retreated, and his army soon became amass of fugitives, struggling through the mountains of West Virginia onto the Ohio River. The Confederates at Lynchburg, all told, numbered11, 000 men, the Federals 20, 000. 

An incident which occurred in Rockbridge County, the participants inwhich were of the "cradle and grave" classes, deserves mention. Maj. Angus McDonald, aged seventy, having four sons in our army, set out fromLexington with his fourteen-year-old son Harry, refugeeing. They werejoined, near the Natural Bridge, by Mr. Thomas Wilson, a white-hairedold man; and the three determined to give battle to Hunter's army. Froma hastily constructed shelter of rails and stones they opened, withshotguns and pistols, on his advance guard, but, of course, werequickly overpowered. Mr. Wilson was left for dead on the ground, and theMcDonalds captured. The father was taken to a Northern prison, but Harrymade his escape by night in the mountains, and in turn captured aFederal soldier, whom I saw him turn over to the provost on his returnto Lexington. General Early pursued Hunter no farther than BotetourtCounty, and thence passed through Lexington on his disastrous campaigntoward Washington. 

CHAPTER XXVI

PERSONAL MENTION OF OFFICERS AND MEN--ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY--SECONDROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY

As has already been mentioned, the captain under whom the battery wasmustered into service was the Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, rector of theEpiscopal Church in Lexington, Virginia, who, after the first battle ofManassas, became chief of artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia. His only son, Alexander S. Pendleton, graduated at Washington College atthe age of 18. He entered the army from the University of Virginia atthe beginning of the war as lieutenant on General Jackson's staff, androse through the various grades of promotion to the rank oflieutenant-colonel. After General Jackson's death he continued to fillthe position of adjutant to the succeeding commanders of the corps untilhe fell in battle near Winchester, in 1864. He was one of the bravestand most efficient staff officers in the Army of Northern Virginia. 

The captains of the battery under whom I served were three uncommonlybrave and capable officers. 

The first, William McLaughlin, after making an enviable record with thecompany, distinguished himself as commander of a battalion of artilleryin General Early's company in 1864. 

The second, Captain W. T. Poague, whose reputation for efficiency andcourage won for him the command of a battalion of artillery in A. P. Hill's corps, was amply equipped with both intelligence and valor tohave handled an army division with credit to himself and advantage tothe service. 

The third, Archibald Graham, who was appointed a sergeant upon theorganization of the company, then elected a lieutenant, and for the lasttwo years of the war captain, had the distinction of having been inevery engagement in which the battery took part from Hainesville, in1861, to Appomattox in 1865. His dreamy, brown eyes kindled most at thesound of good music, and where the noise of battle was greatest, andshells flew thickest, there Graham lingered, as if courting danger. 

Our First Lieut. W. M. Brown, a brave officer, wounded and captured atGettysburg, remained in prison from that time until the close of thewar. 

Lieut. J. B. McCorkle, a noble fellow and recklessly brave, was killedat first Fredericksburg. 

As stated in this paper, besides those regularly enrolled in the companywere men who did more or less service with it, but whose names do notappear on the roll. For example, Bernard Wolfe, of Martinsburg, servedin this capacity for a time previous to and in the first battle ofManassas, and later became major of commissary on General Pendleton'sstaff. 

Chapman Maupin, of Charlottesville, son of Professor Maupin, of theUniversity of Virginia, served during part of the campaign of 1862, waswith the battery in several battles, and enlisted afterward in theSignal Corps. 

That so many intelligent and educated men from outside of Rockbridgewere attracted to this company was primarily due to the fact that theRev. W. N. Pendleton, its captain until after first Manassas, was agraduate of West Point and was widely known as a clergyman and educator. After his promotion the character of the company itself accomplished thesame effect. 

Of the names on the roll there were four A. M. 's and a score of studentsof the University of Virginia. There were at least twenty graduates ofWashington College, and as many undergraduates, and many graduates andstudents of other colleges. 

Among the privates in the company was a son and namesake of General R. E. Lee, whose presence in such a capacity was characteristic of hisnoble father, when it seemed so natural and surely the custom to haveprovided him with a commission. That the son should have the instinctsand attributes of a soldier was not surprising; but, with theseinherited gifts, his individuality, in which uniform cheerfulness, consideration for others, and enjoyment of fun were prominent features, won for him the esteem and affection of his comrades. When it fell tohis lot, as a cannoneer, to supply temporarily the place of a sick orwounded driver, he handled and cared for his horses as diligently andwith as much pride as when firing a gun. 

Two sons of Ex-President Tyler, one of whom--Gardiner--represented hisdistrict in Congress. 

A son of Commodore Porter, of the United States Navy. 

Walter and Joseph Packard, descendants of Charles Lee, who was a brotherof Light-Horse Harry Lee. 

 * * * * *

The beautiful character of Randolph Fairfax, a descendant of LordFairfax, who was killed on December 13, 1862, on that fatal hill nearFredericksburg, has been worthily portrayed in a memoir by the Rev. Philip Slaughter. More than ten thousand copies of this memoir weredistributed through the army at the expense of General Lee, Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, and other officers and men, and no better idea of the exaltedcharacter of young Fairfax can be conveyed, than by extracts copied fromthis little volume:

"'REV. P. SLAUGHTER. 

"'DEAR SIR: Please receive enclosed a contribution ($100) to the verylaudable work alluded to in church by you to-day. It is very desirableto place the example of Private Randolph Fairfax before every soldierof the army. I am particularly desirous that my command should have theadvantage of such a Christian light to guide them on their way. Howinvincible would an army of such men be!--men who never murmur and whonever flinch!

 "'Very truly yours, "'J. E. B. STUART. '

"Berkeley Minor says:

"'I knew Randolph Fairfax at the University quite well, but not sointimately as I did after he joined this company (the RockbridgeBattery). For several months before his death I was his messmate andbedfellow, and was able to note more fully the tone of earnest pietythat pervaded his words and actions. He was unselfish, modest, anduniformly kind and considerate to all. If there was one trait in himmore striking than others, it was his calm, earnest, trustful demeanorin time of battle, resulting, I believe, from his abiding trust in theprovidence and love of God. Many fine young men have been removed bydeath from this company, yet I do not think that any has been moredeeply lamented than he. '

"Joseph Packard, another of his comrades, writes:

"'His cheerful courage, his coolness and steadiness, made himconspicuous in every battlefield. At the battle of Malvern Hill, wherehe had received a wound which nine men out of ten would have consideredan excuse for retiring from the awful scene, he persisted in remainingat his post, and did the work of two until the battery had left thefield. But it was in the bearing, more than in the daring, of thesoldier's life that his lovely character displayed itself. He neveravoided the most trying and irksome duties. If he had selfishness, thosewho knew him long and well as schoolmates and comrades never discernedit. More than once I have heard his beautiful Christian example spokenof by irreligious comrades. Bitter and inexplicable as may be theProvidence which has removed one so full of promise of good to hisfellows, I feel that we may thank God that we have been permitted towitness a life so Christ-like terminated by a death so noble. '

"Captain Poague, commanding the Rockbridge Battery, says in a letter tohis father:

"'In simple justice to your son, I desire to express my highappreciation of his noble character as a soldier, a Christian, andgentleman. Modest and courteous in his deportment, charitable andunselfish in his disposition, cheerful and conscientious in hisperformance of duty, and upright and consistent in his walk andconversation, he was a universal favorite in the company, and greatlybeloved by his friends. I don't think I have ever known a young manwhose life was so free from the frailties of human nature, and whosecharacter in all aspects formed so faultless a model for the imitationof others. Had his influence been restricted to the silent power andbeauty of his example, his life on earth, short as it was, would nothave been in vain. The name of Randolph Fairfax will not soon beforgotten by his comrades, and his family may be assured that there aremany who, strangers as they are, deeply sympathize with them in theirbereavement. '

"The following from General Lee will be a fit climax to the foregoingtributes:

"'CAMP FREDERICKSBURG, December 28, 1862. 

"'MY DEAR DOCTOR: I have grieved most deeply at the death of your nobleson. I have watched his conduct from the commencement of the war, andhave pointed with pride to the patriotism, self-denial, and manliness ofcharacter he has exhibited. I had hoped that an opportunity would haveoccurred for the promotion he deserved; not that it would have elevatedhim, but have shown that his devotion to duty was appreciated by hiscountry. Such an opportunity would undoubtedly have occurred; but he hasbeen translated to a better world for which his purity and his pietyhave eminently fitted him. You do not require to be told how great hisgain. It is the living for whom I sorrow. I beg you will offer to Mrs. Fairfax and your daughters my heartfelt sympathy, for I know the depthof their grief. That God may give you and them strength to bear thisgreat affliction is the earnest prayer of your early friend, "'R. E. LEE. ' "'Dr. Orlando Fairfax. '"

[Illustration: RANDOLPH FAIRFAX]

A son and two nephews of Hon. A. R. Boteler. 

A son of Governor Gilmer, of Virginia. 

S. H. Letcher, brother of War-Governor John Letcher. 

Mercer Otey, graduate of Virginia Military Institute and son of BishopOtey, of Tennessee. 

Launcelot M. Blackford, A. M. , of University of Virginia, who becameadjutant of the Twenty-sixth Virginia Infantry, and Superintendent ofthe Alexandria High School from the close of the war to the presenttime--forty-one years. He has said to the writer since the war that hecherished the fact of his having been a private in the RockbridgeArtillery with more pride than he felt in any honors he has sinceachieved. 

Robert A. Gibson, of Petersburg, Virginia, now a bishop of Virginia. 

Livingston Massie, of Waynesboro, who became captain of another batteryand was killed in General Early's battle of Winchester. 

Hugh McGuire, of Winchester, brother of Dr. Hunter McGuire, medicaldirector of Jackson's corps, whose gallantry won for him a captaincy incavalry and lost him his life on the retreat to Appomattox. 

Boyd Faulkner, of Martinsburg, son of Hon. Charles J. Faulkner. 

Two Bartons from Winchester. 

Two Maurys and three Minors from Charlottesville. 

Other members of the company, of whom much that is interesting could bewritten, were Edgar and Eugene Alexander, of Moorefield, West Virginia, uncles of the authoress, Miss Mary Johnston. The first named lost anarm at Fredericksburg, the second had his thigh-bone broken at secondManassas. 

William H. Bolling, of Petersburg, Virginia, the handsomest of eighthandsome brothers and a most polished gentleman. 

Holmes Boyd, of Winchester, now a distinguished lawyer of that city. 

Daniel Blaine, of Williamsburg, since the war a Presbyterian divine. 

Robert Frazer, of Culpeper, an accomplished scholar and prominenteducator. 

William L. Gilliam, of Powhatan County. 

Campbell Heiskell, of Moorefield. 

J. K. Hitner, who, though a native of Pennsylvania, fought through thewar for the South. 

William F. Johnston, of Rockbridge, a sterling man and soldier. 

Edward Hyde, of Alexandria, an excellent artist, who devoted most of histime in camp to drawing sketches of army life. He has recently writtenme that his drawings were lost in a canoe in which he attempted to crossJames River on his journey from Appomattox. Otherwise some of them wouldhave appeared in this book. 

Otho Kean, of Goochland County, Virginia. 

John E. McCauley, of Rockbridge, sergeant of the battery. 

William S. McClintic, now a prominent citizen of Missouri. 

D. D. Magruder, of Frederick County, Virginia. 

Littleton Macon, of Albemarle County, whose utterances becameproverbial. 

Frank Meade and Frank Nelson, of Albemarle County. 

W. C. Gordon, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Jefferson Ruffin, of Henrico. 

J. M. Shoulder, of Rockbridge. 

W. C. Stuart, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Stevens M. Taylor, of Albemarle County, Virginia. 

Charles M. Trueheart, now a physician in Galveston, Texas. 

Thomas M. Wade, of Lexington, Virginia. 

W. H. White, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Calvin Wilson, of Cumberland County. 

John Withrow, of Lexington, Virginia. 

William M. Wilson, of Rockbridge, who went by the name of "Billy Zu. , "abbreviated for zouave; and many other fine fellows, most of whom havelong since "passed over the river. "

A. S. Whitt, gunner of the fourth piece, whose failure to throw atwenty-pound shell "within a hair's breadth and not miss" could beattributed only to defective ammunition. 

In this company were all classes of society and all grades ofintelligence, from the most cultured scholars to the lowest degree ofilliteracy. We had men who had formerly been gentlemen of leisure, lawyers, physicians, students of divinity, teachers, merchants, farmersand mechanics, ranging in age from boys of seventeen to matured men inthe forties and from all parts of the South and several from NorthernStates, as well as Irish and Germans. At one camp-fire could be hearddiscussions on literature, philosophy, science, etc. , and at anotherhorse-talk. The tone of the company was decidedly moral, and there wascomparatively little profanity. In addition to the services conducted bythe chaplain of the battalion, Rev. Henry White, prayer-meetings wereregularly held by the theological students. Then we had men that sworelike troopers. "Irish Emmett, " whose face was dotted with grains ofpowder imbedded under the skin, could growl out oaths throughhalf-clenched teeth that chilled one's blood. 

One man, Michael, a conscript from another county, a full-grown man, weighing perhaps one hundred and seventy-five pounds, was a chroniccry-baby; unfit for other service, he was assigned assistant at theforge, and would lie with face to the ground and moan out, "I want to gohome, I want to go home, " and sob by the hour. 

Another, a primitive man from the German forests, whose language wasscarcely intelligible, lived entirely to himself and constructed hisshelter of brush and leaves--as would a bear preparing to hibernate. Inhis ignorance of the use of an axe I saw him, in felling a tree, "throw"it so that it fell on and killed a horse tied nearby. On seeing what hehad done, his lamentation over the dying animal was pathetic. 

As a school for the study of human nature, that afforded in the variousconditions of army life is unsurpassed--a life in which danger, fatigue, hunger, etc. , leave no room for dissimulation, and expose thegood and bad in each individual to the knowledge of his associates. 

It sometimes fell to my lot to be on guard-duty with Tom Martin, anIrishman who was over forty-five and exempt from military service, butwas soldiering for the love of it. Sometimes he was very taciturn andentirely absorbed with his short-stemmed pipe; at other times full ofhumor and entertaining. He gave me an account, one night while on post, of what he called his "great flank movement"--in other words, a visit tohis home in Rockbridge without leave. After Doran, another Irishman, hadbeen disabled at Malvern Hill and discharged from service, he became asort of huckster for the battery and would make trips to and fromRockbridge with a wagon-load of boxes from our homes and also a supplyof apple-brandy. While camped at Bunker Hill in the fall of 1862, shortly after Doran arrived with his load, Captain Poague, observingmore than an ordinary degree of hilarity among some of the men, had thewagon searched, the brandy brought forth, confiscated, and emptied onthe ground. Martin, greatly outraged at the illtreatment of a fellow-sonof Erin, and still more so at the loss of so much good liquor, forthwithresolved to take his revenge on the Captain by taking "French leave. "

To escape the vigilance of provost-guards and deserter-hunters, he madehis way to the foothills of the North Mountain, and in the course ofhis journey stumbled on a still-house in one of its secluded glens. Tothe proprietor, who was making a run of apple-brandy, and who proved tobe "a man after me own heart, " Martin imparted his grievances. "I touldhim, " said he, "I hadn't a cint, but he poured me a tin chuck-full. Withthanks in me eyes I turned off the whole of it, then kindled me pipe andstood close by the still. Ah! me lad, how the liquor wint through me! Inthray minits I didn't care a domn for all the captins in old Stonewall'sarmy!"

With various adventures he made his way home, returned to the company ofhis own accord, was wounded at Gettysburg, captured, and spent theremainder of war-time in prison. 

Rader, who drove the lead-horses at my gun almost throughout the war, ismentioned elsewhere, but his record, as well as his pranks and drollery, coupled with his taciturnity, were interesting. While sitting on hissaddle-horse in one battle he was knocked full length to the ground by abursting shell. When those nearby ran to pick him up they asked if hewas much hurt. "No, " he said, "I am just skeered to death. " AtSharpsburg, while lying down, holding his gray mares, a shell tore atrench close alongside of him and hoisted him horizontally into the air. On recovering his feet he staggered off, completely dazed by theconcussion. In the first battle of Fredericksburg he was struck anddisabled for a time. At Gettysburg, as the same animals, frightened bya bursting shell, wheeled to run, he seized the bridle of the leaderjust as it was struck by a shell, which burst at the moment, instantlykilling the two grays and the two horses next to them, and stunningRader as before. But, with all of his close calls, his skin was neverbroken. Instead of currying his horses during the time allotted for thatwork he seemed to occupy himself teaching them "tricks, " but his was thebest-groomed team in the battery. 

While on guard one cold night, as the wagon drivers were sleepingquietly on a bed of loose straw near a blazing fire, I saw Rader creepup stealthily and apply a torch at several places, wait until it waswell ignited, and then run and yell "Fire!" then repeat the sport anhour later. Vanpelt carried an enormous knapsack captured from Banks andbranded "10th Maine. " While halting on the march it was Rader'samusement, especially when some outsider was passing by, to set hiswhip-stock as a prop under it, go through the motions of grinding, andrattle off the music of a hand-organ with his mouth until chased away byhis victim. He mysteriously vanished from Rockbridge after the war, andhas never since been located. 

One of the most striking characters in the company was "General" Jake, as we called him, whose passion for war kept him always in the army, while his aversion to battle kept him always in the rear. After servinga year with us, being over military age, he got a discharge, but soonjoined the Rockbridge cavalry as a substitute, where six legs, insteadof two, afforded three-fold opportunities. An interview between the"General" and one of our company, as he viewed the former and was struckwith his appearance, was as follows:

"Well, 'General, ' you are the most perfect-looking specimen of a soldierI ever beheld. That piercing eye, the grizzly mustache, the firm jaw, the pose of the head, that voice--in fact, the whole make-up fills tothe full the measure of a man of war. "

The "General, " with a graceful bow and a deep roll in his voice, replied, "Sire, in enumerating the items which go to constitute a greatgeneral I notice the omission of one requisite, the absence of which inmy outfit lost to the cause a genius in council and a mighty leader inbattle. "

"What was that, 'General'?"

"Sire, it goes by the name of Cour-ridge. "

 * * * * *

Estimates of things are governed by comparison, and no better idea ofthe Southern army could be had than that given by a knowledge of itsnumbers, equipment, etc. , as compared with those of its adversarythroughout the four years of the war. This can be illustrated by asketch of the Rockbridge Artillery in that respect, beginning with itsentrance into service, as a type of the whole army. 

The guns with which this company set out from Lexington were twosmooth-bore six-pound brass pieces used by Stonewall Jackson fordrilling the cadets at the Virginia Military Institute, which werecoupled together and drawn by one pair of horses to Staunton. I mustpause here and relate an incident which occurred at that period, inwhich these guns played a part. Among the cadets was one--Hountsell--whowas considered as great an enigma as Jackson himself. In some of thevarious evolutions of the drill it was necessary for the cadets to trot. This gait Hountsell failed to adopt, and was reported to thesuperintendent with the specification "for failing to trot. " Hountsellhanded in his written excuse as follows, "I am reported by Major Jacksonfor failing, at artillery drill, to trot. My excuse is, I am a naturalpacer. " It would be interesting to know the workings of Stonewall's mindwhen perusing this reply. 

After reaching Harper's Ferry two more six-pound brass pieces werereceived for this battery from Richmond. As there were no caissons forthese four guns, farm-wagons were used, into which boxes of ammunition, together with chests containing rations for the men, were loaded. Inaddition to friction-primers of modern invention at that time for firingcannon, the old-time "slow matches" and "port-fires" were in stock. Sothat, in preparing for battle with General Patterson's army atHainesville on July 2, 1861, the ammunition-boxes, provision-chests, etc. , being loaded indiscriminately into the same wagon, were all takenout and placed on the ground. The "port-fire, " adjusted in a brass tubeon the end of a wooden stick, was lighted, and the stick stuck in theground by the gun, to give a light in case the friction-primer failed. This provision was due to the fact that Captain Pendleton was familiarwith the "port-fire, " in vogue when he attended West Point. On findingthat the friction-primer was reliable, the "port-fires" were leftsticking in the ground when the guns withdrew, and were captured andtaken as curiosities by the Federals. 

After returning to Winchester, ammunition-chests were ordered to be madeby a carpenter of the town. Gen. Joe Johnston, then in command of theforces, went in person with Lieutenant Poague, and, as the latterexpressed it, reprimanded this carpenter most unmercifully for histardiness in the work. The chests were then quickly completed and placedon wagon-gears, which outfits served as caissons, and thus equipped thebattery marched to and fought at first Manassas. From captures theremade, these crude contrivances were replaced with regular caissons, andfor two of the six-pound brass pieces two rifled ten-pound Parrotts weresubstituted and two heavier six-pound brass pieces added, making asix-gun battery. Also the farm-wagon harness was exchanged for regularartillery harness. 

The revolution in the character of Confederate field ordnancethenceforward continued, and every new and improved weapon we had toconfront in one battle we had to wield against our foes, its inventors, in the next. 

For a short time previous to and in the battle of Kernstown the batteryhad eight guns, two of which, made at the Tredegar Works in Richmond, were of very inferior quality and were soon discarded. The long andtrying campaign of 1862 gradually reduced the number of guns to four, two of which were twenty-pound Parrotts captured at Harper's Ferry, onea twelve-pound Napoleon captured at Richmond, and one a six-pound brasspiece. The two last were replaced by two more twenty-pound Parrottscaptured from Milroy at Winchester in June, 1863. Each of these gunsrequired a team of eight horses and as many to a caisson. They wererecaptured at Deep Bottom below Richmond in July, 1864. 

The battery's connection with the Stonewall Brigade was severed October1, at the close of the memorable campaign of 1862, and under the newrégime became a part of the First Regiment Virginia Artillery, commandedby Col. J. Thompson Brown, afterward by Col. R. A. Hardaway. Thisregiment was made up of the second and third companies of RichmondHowitzers, the Powhatan battery commanded by Captain Dance, the Roanokebattery commanded by Captain Griffin, and Rockbridge battery commandedby Captain Graham, with four guns to each of the five batteries. 

Our new companions proved to be a fine lot of men, and with them manystrong and lasting friendships were formed. 

An idea of the spirit with which the Southern people entered into thewar can best be conveyed by some account of the wild enthusiasm createdby the troops and the unbounded hospitality lavished upon them as theyproceeded to their destinations along the border. 

The Rockbridge Artillery traveled by rail from Staunton to Strasburg. Ontheir march of eighteen miles from there to Winchester they werepreceded by the "Grayson Dare-devils" of Virginia, one hundred strong, armed with Mississippi rifles and wearing red-flannel shirts. A mile ortwo in advance of this company was the Fourth Alabama Regiment, numbering eight hundred men. The regiment, on its arrival at Newtown, asmall village six miles from Winchester, was provided by the citizenswith a sumptuous dinner. Then the "Dare-devils" were likewiseentertained; but still the supplies and hospitality of the people werenot exhausted, as the battery, on its arrival, was served with abountiful meal. 

When the battery reached Winchester their two small guns were stored forthe night in a warehouse, and the men lodged and entertained in privatehouses. On the following day the company went by rail to Harper's Ferry, arriving there after dark. The place was then under command of Col. T. J. Jackson, who was soon after superseded by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston. The trains over the B. & O. Railroad were still running. Evidences ofthe John Brown raid were plainly visible, and the engine-house in whichhe and his men barricaded themselves and were captured by the marines, commanded by Col. R. E. Lee, of the United States Army, stood as at theclose of that affair. 

One or both sections of the battery were often engaged in picket servicealong the Potomac between Shepherdstown and Williamsport, in connectionwith the Second Virginia Regiment, which was composed of men from theadjoining counties. Their camps and bivouacs were constantly visited bythe neighboring people, especially ladies, who came by the score incarriages and otherwise, provided with abundant refreshments for theinner man. As described by those who participated in it all, the dayspassed as a series of military picnics, in which there was no suspicionor suggestion of the serious times that were to follow. During theprogress of the war, while these outward demonstrations, of necessity, diminished, the devotion on the part of the grand women of thatwar-swept region only increased. 

I have not undertaken to describe scenes or relate incidents whichtranspired in the battery before I became a member of it. But there isone scene which was often referred to by those who witnessed it which isworthy of mention. It occurred in the fall of 1861, near Centerville, when a portion of the army, under Gen. Joe Johnston, was returning fromthe front, where an attack had been threatened, and was passing alongthe highway. A full moon was shining in its splendor, lighting up therows of stacked arms, parks of artillery, and the white tents whichdotted the plain on either side. As column after column, with bandsplaying and bayonets glistening, passed, as it were, in review, therecame, in its turn, the First Maryland Regiment headed by its drum corpsof thirty drums rolling in martial time. Next came the First VirginiaRegiment with its superb band playing the "Mocking-Bird, " the shrillstrains of the cornet, high above the volume of the music, pouring forthin exquisite clearness the notes of the bird. Scarcely had this melodypassed out of hearing when there came marching by, in gallant style, thefour batteries of the Washington Artillery, of New Orleans, withofficers on horseback and cannoneers mounted on the guns and caissons, all with sabers waving in cadence to the sound of their voices, singing, in its native French, "The Marseillaise, " that grandest of all nationalairs. 

The younger generation cannot comprehend, and express surprise that theold soldiers never forget and are so wrought up by the recollections oftheir war experiences; but to have participated in a scene such as thiswill readily explain why a soul should thrill at its recurring mention. 

In 1883, nearly twenty years after the war, I was called to Cumberland, Maryland, on business. By reason of a reunion of the Army of theCumberland being held there at the time, the hotels were crowded, making it necessary for me to find accommodations in a boarding-house. Sitting around the front door of the house, as I entered, were half adozen Federal soldiers discussing war-times. The window of the room towhich I was assigned opened immediately over where the men sat, and as Ilay in bed I heard them recount their experiences in battle after battlein which I had taken part. It stirred me greatly. Next morning they hadgone out when I went down to breakfast, but I told the lady of the houseof my interest in their talk of the previous night. At noon the sameparty was sitting in the hall, having finished their dinners, as Ipassed through to mine. They greeted me cordially and said, "We heard ofwhat you said about overhearing us last night; take a seat and let'sdiscuss old times. " My answer was, "I have met you gentlemen already ontoo many battlefields with an empty stomach, so wait till I get mydinner. " With a hearty laugh this was approved of, and I joined themsoon after. Most of them were from Ohio and West Virginia. They said, though, as I was but one against six, to say what I pleased; and for anhour or more we discussed, good-humoredly, many scenes of mutualinterest. 

 * * * * *

The following lines are recalled from Merrick's songs:

 "Och hone, by the man in the moon! You taze me all ways that a woman can plaze; For you dance twice as high with that thief, Pat McGhee, As you do when you're dancing a jig, Love, with me; Though the piper I'd bate, for fear the old chate Wouldn't play you your favorite chune. 

 "Och hone, don't provoke me to do it, For there are girls by the score That would have me and more. Sure there's Katy Nale, that would jump if I'd say, 'Katy Nale, name the day. ' And though you are fresh and fair as the flowers in May, And she's short and dark as a cowld winter's day, If you don't repent before Easter, when Lent Is over, I'll marry for spite. "

SAINT PATRICK

 "A fig for St. Denis of France! He's a trumpery fellow to brag on. A fig for St. George and his lance! Who splitted a heathenish dragon. The saints of the Welshman and Scot Are a pair of pitiful pipers, Both of whom may just travel to pot, Compared with the patron of swipers-- St. Patrick of Ireland, my boy!

 "Och! he came to the Emerald Isle On a lump of a paving-stone mounted; The steamboat he beat by a mile, Which mighty good sailing was counted. Said he, 'The salt-water, I think, Makes me most bloodily thirsty, So fetch me a flagon of drink To wash down the mullygrubs, burst ye! A drink that is fit for a saint. '

 "The pewter he lifted _in sport_, And, believe me, I tell you no fable, A gallon he drank from the quart And planted it down on the table. 'A miracle!' every one cried, And they all took a pull at the stingo. They were capital hands at the trade, And they drank till they fell; yet, by jingo! The pot still frothed over the brim. 

 "'Next day, ' quoth his host, 'is a fast And there is naught in my larder but mutton. On Friday who would serve such repast, Except an unchristianlike glutton?' Says Pat, 'Cease your nonsense, I beg; What you tell me is nothing but gammon. Take my compliments down to the leg And bid it walk hither, a salmon. ' The leg most politely complied. 

 "Oh! I suppose you have heard, long ago, How the snakes, in a manner quite antic, He marched from the County Mayo And trundled them into the Atlantic. So not to use water for drink, The people of Ireland determined. And for a mighty good reason, I think, Since St. Patrick has filled it with vermin And vipers and other such stuff. 

 * * * * *

 "The people, with wonderment struck At a pastor so pious and civil, Cried, 'We are for you, my old buck! And we'll pitch our blind gods to the devil Who dwells in hot water below. '

 "Och! he was an iligant blade As you'd meet from Fairhead to Killkrumper, And, though under the sod he is laid, Here goes his health in a bumper! I wish he was here, that my glass He might, by art-magic, replenish-- But as he is not, why, alas! My ditty must come to a finish, Because all the liquor is out. "

 * * * * *

THE SECOND ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY

The second Rockbridge Artillery Company, organized July 10, 1861, likethe first Rockbridge Artillery, was commanded by a clergyman, the Rev. John Miller, of Princeton, New Jersey, as captain. In honor of hiswife's sister, Miss Lily McDowell, daughter of Governor McDowell, ofVirginia, who furnished in large part the outfit of this company, it wasnamed "McDowell Guards. " She also paid a bounty to a youth undermilitary age to serve as her personal representative in this company. Miss McDowell afterward became the wife of Major Bernard Wolfe, whoseservice with the Rockbridge Battery has been mentioned. 

Owing to lack of artillery equipment, the McDowell Guards served asinfantry until January, 1862, in the Fifty-second Virginia Regiment, inWest Virginia. I heard Captain Miller relate this anecdote, whichoccurred in the battle of Alleghany Mountain, December 12, 1861: A boyin his company was having a regular duel with a Federal infantryman, whose shots several times passed close to the boy's head. Finally, whena bullet knocked his hat off, he defiantly called out to his adversary, "Hey! You didn't git me that time, nuther. You didn't git me nary atime!"

In the early part of 1862 the McDowell Guards secured artillery and didexcellent service in McIntosh's battalion of A. P. Hill's corps untilthe close of the war. 

CHAPTER XXVII

OAKLAND--RETURN TO CAMP--OFF DUTY AGAIN--THE RACE FROM NEW MARKET TOFORT GILMORE--ATTACK ON FORT HARRISON--WINTER-QUARTERS ON THELINES--VISITS TO RICHMOND

The desolation and dejection of the people of Lexington hastened mydeparture, but before returning to the army I spent two weeks mostdelightfully at "Oakland, " the hospitable home of Mrs. Cocke, inCumberland County, Virginia. This was the last opportunity I had ofenjoying the "old plantation life, " the like of which can never again beexperienced. It was an ideal life, the comforts and advantages of whichonly those who followed it could appreciate. Two of Mrs. Cocke's sons, who had passed many years at school and college in Lexington, were athome--one on sick-leave; the other, still a youth, equipping himself forthe cavalry service, which he soon entered. William, the eldest son, hadbeen killed at Gettysburg and his body never recovered. 

Every day at twelve o'clock sharp delicious watermelons were broughtfrom the icehouse to the shade of the stately oaks which adorned thespacious lawn; then, two hours later, after a sumptuous dinner, asmall darky brought from the kitchen a shovel of coals (matches were nota Southern product) to light our pipes. So the time passed. It was tothis hospitable home that General Lee retired with his familyimmediately after Appomattox, and was living on this estate when heaccepted the presidency of Washington College. 

[Illustration: ROBERT FRAZER]

My wounds being now sufficiently, or rather temporarily, healed, Iembarked about bedtime at Cartersville on the canal packet boat. On myway to a berth in the cabin I noticed, by the dim light, astriking-looking man clad in white lying in his berth. On the deck ofthe boat were a score or more of negroes, male and female, singing soboisterously that the other passengers could not sleep. Such conduct atthis time was felt to be significant, and the more so as the officers ofthe boat refrained from interfering. Without intimation there was a leapfrom my neighboring bunk, a hurried scramble up the stairway, followedby a volley of--secular language, with a demand for instantaneous choicebetween "dead silence and dead niggers. " Thenceforward stillnessprevailed, broken at intervals when the plaintive windings of the packethorn, rising and falling with the motion of the tandem team, heraldedour approach to a lock. Who that ever boarded that ancient craft, ordwelt within its sound, will cease to recall the associations awakenedby the voice of the old packet horn?

Next morning I recognized my fellow-countyman, Bob Greenlee, of theFirst Virginia Cavalry, as the man whose eloquence had terrorized thenegroes. Greenlee has been aptly styled "a rare bird, " and the accountshe gave of experiences during his sick-leave, from which he was nowreturning, were as good as "David Harum. "

I found the battery stationed at New Market, on the north side of theJames, near Dutch Gap. During my absence it had suffered the onlyserious loss of the kind it had experienced during the war--the captureof all four of its twenty-pound Parrott guns at Deep Bottom. The horses, as usual, had been taken to the rear for safety. The infantry supporthad been out-flanked, leaving our guns almost surrounded, so that thecannoneers escaped with difficulty--only one of them, Andrew Darnall, being captured. 

The ranks of the company had been considerably depleted by chills andfever, so prevalent in that swampy region, and one death hadoccurred--that of John Gibbs, a most excellent soldier. Less than aweek's sojourn was sufficient to poison my blood and reopen an old woundreceived two years before. I was sent to Richmond, but twenty-fourhours' experience in a hospital among the sick, the wounded, and thedying induced me to get a discharge and work my way, by hook and crook, back to Oakland, where I underwent a severe visitation of chills andfever. This, however, was soon broken up by quinine, and I againrejoined the battery. 

The summer now drawing to a close had been a most trying one, and thefuture offered no sign of relief. The situation was one of simplywaiting to be overwhelmed. That the fighting spirit was unimpaired wasdemonstrated in every encounter, notably the one on July 30, at TheCrater, near Petersburg. 

During the night of September 28 there was heard the continued rumblingof wheels and the tramp of large forces of the enemy crossing on thepontoon bridges from the south to the north side of the James. At dawnnext morning we hurriedly broke camp, as did Gary's brigade of cavalrycamped close by, and scarcely had time to reach high ground and unlimberbefore we were attacked. The big gaps in our lines, entirely undefended, were soon penetrated, and the contest quickly became one of speed toreach the shorter line of fortifications some five miles nearer to andin sight of Richmond. The break through our lines was on our right, which placed the Federals almost in our rear, so that a detour ofseveral miles on our part was necessary. On the principle that thechased dog is generally the fleetest, we succeeded in reaching thebreastworks, a short distance to the left of Fort Gilmore, with all fourguns, now ten-pound Parrotts, followed by the straggling cannoneers muchexhausted. I vividly recall George Ginger, who was No. 1 at one of theguns, as he came trotting in with the gun-rammer on his shoulder, whichhe had carried five miles through brush and brake for want of time toreplace it on the gun-carriage. 

Much has been written about the defense of Fort Gilmore, and muchcontroversy as to who deserved the credit. The fact that a superb fightwas made was fully apparent when we entered the fort an hour later, while the negroes who made the attack were still firing from behindstumps and depressions in the cornfield in front, to which our artilleryreplied with little effect. The Fort was occupied by about sixty menwho, I understood, were Mississippians. The ditch in front was eight orten feet deep and as many in width. Into it, urged on by white officers, the negroes leaped, and to scale the embankment on the Fort side climbedon each other's shoulders, and were instantly shot down as their headsappeared above it. The ground beyond was strewn with dead and wounded. Afull regiment had preceded us into the Fort, but the charge on it hadbeen repulsed by the small force before its arrival. 

Next morning we counted twenty-three dead negroes in the ditch, thewounded and prisoners having previously been removed. There was greatlamentation among them when "Corporal Dick" fell. He was a conspicuousleader, jet black, and bald as a badger. A mile to the right of FortGilmore and one-fourth of a mile in advance of our line of breastworkswas Fort Harrison, which was feebly garrisoned by reserves. This forcehad been overpowered and the Fort taken by the Federals. Two dayslater, and after it had been completely manned with infantry andartillery, an unsuccessful attempt was made to recapture it, of which wehad a full view. The attack was made by Colquitt's and Anderson'sbrigades, while General Lee stood on the parapet of Fort Gilmore withfield-glass in hand, waving his hat and cheering lustily. Of course ourloss in killed, wounded, and captured was very heavy. This ended thefighting, except sharpshooting, on the north side of the James. 

During our stay in Fort Gilmore a company of Reserves from Richmond tookthe place of the regular infantry. They were venerable-looking oldgentlemen--lawyers, business men, etc. , dressed in citizens' clothes. Inorder to accustom them to the service, we supposed, they were frequentlyroused during the night to prepare for battle. After several repetitionsof this they concluded, about two o'clock one night, that it was uselessto retire again and go through the same performance, so a party of themkindled a fire and good-humoredly sat around in conversation on varioussubjects, one of which was infant baptism. My bedfellow, Tom Williamson, a bachelor under twenty years of age, being deeply interested in thisquestion, of paramount importance at this time, forthwith left his bunk, and from that time until daylight theology was in the air. 

Our battery changed from the Fort to a position one-fourth of a mile tothe left of it, the two sections being placed a hundred yards apart, where we remained until March. 

It seems remarkable even now, after a lapse of over forty years, thatunder such conditions and without the slightest reasonable hope ofultimate success we could have passed six months, including a severewinter, not only moderately comfortable, but ofttimes with realpleasure. Huts and hovels of as varied architecture as the scarcity ofmaterial at our disposal could be shaped into, rose above or descendedbelow the ground. The best shelters were built of pine logs six or eightinches in diameter, split in half, with the bark-side out. From a swampa quarter of a mile in the rear, in which the trees had been previouslyfelled for military operations, we carried our fuel. Several hundrednegroes had been impressed, in neighboring counties within Confederatelines, to work on the adjacent fortifications, which, by their industry, soon became very strong. In our immediate front, manning the Federalworks, were negro troops whose voices could be distinctly heard in darkysongs and speech, and their camp-fires were in full view. 

It was at this time that General Early was distinguishing himself in theShenandoah Valley with repeated defeats in battle, the first news ofwhich reached us in a peculiar way; that is, when the news reachedGrant's lines a shotted salute in celebration was fired at us, thus"killing two birds with one stone. " These volleys of shot and shellproduced consternation among the negroes working on our fortifications. Panic-stricken, they would break for the rear, casting aside picks, shovels, or anything that retarded speed; and to get them and theirscattered tools gathered up after such a stampede required several days. I was requested, by a negro who had just experienced one of theseescapades, to write a letter for him to his home people. He dictated asfollows:

 * * * * *

"My dear Wife: I take this opportunity of taking you down a few wordsand telling you of the terrible bumming we was under yesterday. Theshells fell fast as hail and lightened as from a cloud, and we had asmart run. Give my love to Mammy and tell her how we is sufferin' forsomethin' to eat. "

 * * * * *

Then followed some other pieces of news; then love to various kinsmen, with a message to each of how they were "sufferin' for somethin' toeat. "

The space between the two sections of our battery was occupied byinfantry. I particularly remember the Nineteenth Georgia Regiment, agame body of men, whose excellent band furnished us fine music. It wasordered, during the winter, to North Carolina and lost--killed in battlesoon after--its colonel and adjutant, Neil and Turner. A mile in rear ofour lines stood a church, a substantial frame building, which, for wantof better use, was converted into a theater. As in the recent draftingevery department of life had been invaded, a very respectable elementof a histrionic turn was to be found in the ranks. The stage scenery, asone would imagine, was not gaudy and, of course, did not affordequipment for high art in the strict sense; but the doleful conditionsof home life now in vogue in the South and the desperate straits forfood and existence in camp afforded a fund of amusement to those of uswho were inclined to pluck sport from hopeless conditions. 

One of the performers--named Nash--was a first-rate comedian. As aninterlude he gave a representation of an attempt made by the people tofurnish the army a Christmas dinner. To give an idea of what a failuresuch an undertaking would naturally be, when the people themselves werealmost destitute, one thin turkey constituted the share for a regimentclose by us, while our battery did not get so much as a doughnut. Nash, in taking the thing off, appeared on the stage with a companion topropound leading questions, and, after answering one query afteranother, to explain the meaning of his droll conduct, drew his hand fromthe side pocket of his blouse and, with his head thrown back and mouthwide open, poured a few dry cracker crumbs down his throat. When askedby the ringman what that act signified, he drawled out, in lugubrioustones, "Soldier eating Christmas dinner!" The righteous indignationproduced among the few citizens by such sacrilegious use of a churchsoon brought our entertainments to a close. 

Our time was frequently enlivened by visits to Richmond. By getting atwenty-four-hour leave we could manage to spend almost forty-eight hoursin the city. On a pass--dated, for instance, January 13--we could leavecamp immediately after reveille and return in time for reveille on thefifteenth. 

That this would be the last winter that Richmond would be the capital ofthe Confederacy, or that the Confederacy itself would be in existence, was a feeling experienced by all, but was too painful a subject forgeneral discussion. The gaiety of the place under such conditions, viewed at this remote day, seems astonishing. There the ConfederateCongress and the Virginia Legislature held their sessions; and therewere the numerous employees of State and Nation, and refugees fromvarious parts of the South, and, besides, it was the great manufacturingcenter of that section, employing mechanics and artisans of everycalling. For four years this mixed multitude had listened to the thunderof cannon almost at their doors, and had seen old men and boys calledout by day and by night to meet some extraordinary emergency, while itwas no uncommon occurrence for hundreds of sick, wounded, and dead mento be borne through the streets to the overflowing hospitals andcemeteries. One surprising feature of it was to see how readily alladapted themselves to such a life. 

My first social visit, in company with my messmate, James Gilmer, ofCharlottesville, Virginia, was to call on some lady friends, formerly ofWinchester. We found these ladies starting to an egg-nog at the house ofsome friends--the Misses Munford--with instructions to invite theirescorts. This position we gladly accepted, and were soon ushered intothe presence of some of the celebrated beauties of Richmond, and wereentertained as graciously as if we had been officers of high rank. Theclimax of this visit was as we were returning to camp the nextafternoon. We overtook Tazwell McCorkle, of Lynchburg, the only memberof our company who could afford the luxury of being married and havinghis wife nearby. He had just received a box from home, and invited us togo with him to his wife's boarding-house and partake of its contents. While enjoying and expressing our appreciation of the good things, McCorkle told us of the impression the sight of old-time luxuries hadmade on their host, Mr. Turner, a devout old Baptist, who, with upliftedhands, exclaimed, as it first met his gaze, "Pound-cake, as I pray to besaved!"

Since the burning of the Virginia Military Institute barracks, by Hunterat Lexington, the school had been transferred to Richmond and occupiedthe almshouse. This, on my visits to the city, I made my headquarters, and, preparatory to calling on my lady acquaintances, was kindlysupplied with outfits in apparel by my friends among the professors. Having developed, since entering the service, from a mere youth in sizeto a man of two hundred pounds, to fit me out in becoming style was nosimple matter. I recall one occasion when I started out on myvisiting-round, wearing Frank Preston's coat, Henry Wise's trousers, andCol. John Ross's waistcoat, and was assured by my benefactors that Ilooked like a brigadier-general. Sometimes as many as four or six of ourcompany, having leave of absence at the same time, would rendezvous toreturn together in the small hours of the night, through Rocketts, where"hold-ups" were not uncommon, and recount our various experiences as weproceeded campward. 

Indications of the hopelessness of the Confederacy had, by midwinter, become very much in evidence, with but little effort at concealment. Conferences on the subject among the members of companies and regimentswere of almost daily occurrence, in which there was much discussion asto what course should be pursued when and after the worst came. Manyresolutions were passed in these meetings, avowing the utmost loyalty tothe cause, and the determination to fight to the death. In one regimentnot far from our battery a resolution was offered which did not meet theapprobation of all concerned, and was finally passed in a form qualifiedthus, "Resolved, that in case our army is overwhelmed and broken up, wewill bushwhack them; that is, some of us will. "

Notwithstanding all this apprehension, scant rations and generaldiscomfort, the pluck and spirit of the great majority of our mencontinued unabated. To give an idea of the insufficiency of the rationswe received at this time, the following incident which I witnessed willsuffice: Immediately after finishing his breakfast, one of our companyinvested five dollars in five loaves of bread. After devouring three ofthem, his appetite was sufficiently appeased to enable him to negotiatethe exchange of one of the two remaining for enough molasses to sweetenthe other, which he ate at once. These loaves, which were hucksteredalong the lines by venders from Richmond, it must be understood, werenot full-size, but a compromise between a loaf and a roll. 

Desertions were of almost nightly occurrence, and occasionally ahalf-dozen or more of the infantry on the picket line would go over in abody to the enemy and give themselves up. The Federals, who had materialand facilities for pyrotechnic displays, one night exhibited in glaringletters of fire:

 "While the lamp holds out to burn, The vilest rebel may return. "

Toward the latter part of March our battery moved half a mile back ofthe line of breastworks. Two or more incidents recall, very distinctlyto my memory, the camp which we there occupied. The colored boy Joe, whohad cooked for my mess when rations were more abundant, was on handagain to pay his respects and furnish music for our dances. If we hadbeen tramping on a hard floor never a sound of his weak violin couldhave been heard; but on the soft, pine tags we could go through themazes of a cotillion, or the lancers, with apparently as much life as ifour couples had been composed of the two sexes. The greatest difficultyincurred, in having a game of ball, was the procurement of a ball thatwould survive even one inning. One fair blow from the bat wouldsometimes scatter it into so many fragments that the batter would claimthat there were not enough remains caught by any one fielder to put himout. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

EVACUATION OF RICHMOND--PASSING THROUGH RICHMOND BY NIGHT--THERETREAT--BATTLE OF SAILOR'S CREEK--BATTLE OF CUMBERLAND CHURCH

While here, in the midst of our gaiety, came the news of the breaking ofour lines near Petersburg, and with this a full comprehension of thefact that the days of the Confederacy were numbered. I was in Richmondon Sunday, April 2, and escorted to church a young lady whose looks andapparel were in perfect keeping with the beautiful spring day. Thegreen-checked silk dress she wore looked as fresh and unspotted as if ithad just run the blockade. As the church we attended was not the one atwhich the news of the disaster had been handed to President Davis, ourservices were not interrupted, nor did I hear anything of it until I hadparted with her at her home and gone to the house of a relative, Dr. Randolph Page's, to dine. There I learned that a fierce battle had beenfought at Five Forks, on the extreme right of our line, in which theFederals had gotten possession of the railroads by which our army wassupplied with food. This, of course, necessitated the abandonment ofboth Richmond and Petersburg. 

As I passed along the streets in the afternoon there was nothing toindicate a panicky feeling; in fact, there was rather less commotionthan usual, but much, no doubt, within doors. 

On arriving at camp I was the first to bring tidings of what hadoccurred to the company, and observed the varying effect produced on thedifferent members, officers and men. To some it came as relief afterlong suspense, while others seemed hopelessly cast down and dejected. Orders to prepare to move soon followed, and our march to and throughRichmond began with only two of our four guns, the other two being leftbehind for want of horses. 

We reached the city shortly before midnight, and, with Estill Waddell, of our battalion, I passed by the home of some friends, who, we found, had retired for the night. In response to my call, the head of the houseappeared at an upper window. I had with me the few valuables Ipossessed, among them the brass button worn on my jacket and indented bythe shell at second Cold Harbor. These I tossed into the yard, with therequest that he would keep them for me. And, some months after the war, the package was sent to me in Lexington. 

We could now see and realize what the evacuation of Richmond involved. Waddell had learned that his brother James, adjutant of theTwenty-fourth Virginia Infantry, had been wounded the day before atPetersburg, and was in the Chimborazo Hospital. At this we soonarrived, and entered a large apartment with low ceiling and brilliantlylighted. On row after row of cots lay wounded men, utterly oblivious andindifferent to the serious conditions that disturbed those of us whorealized what they were. Nurses and attendants were extremely scarce, and as deep silence prevailed as if each cot contained a corpse. 

After a search of a few moments Waddell recognized his brother in soundsleep. His appearance for manly beauty, as we stood over him, surpassedthat of any figure I have ever seen. His slight, graceful form stretchedat full length, a snow-white forehead fringed with dark hair, and chinresting on his chest, he lay like an artist's model rather than awounded warrior, and the smile with which his brown eyes opened at thesound of his brother's voice betokened the awakening from a dream ofpeace and home. On another cot, a few steps farther on, I recognizedJohn McClintic, of the Rockbridge Cavalry, and brother of my messmate. He was a boy of seventeen, with his arm shattered at the shoulder. Onthe cot next to him lay a man who was dying. McClintic and the othersnear him who could make their wants known were almost famished forwater, a bucket of which, after much difficulty, we secured for them. Onthe following day this young fellow, rather than be left in the hands ofthe Federals, rode in an ox-cart and walked twenty miles, and finallyreached his home in Rockbridge. 

After leaving the hospital we passed on to Main street and the businesspart of the city, where the scene would remind one of Bulwer'sdescription of "The Last Days of Pompeii. " The storehouses had beenbroken into and stood wide open, and fires had been kindled out of thegoods boxes, on the floors, to afford light to plunder. Articles ofliquid nature, especially intoxicants, had been emptied into thegutters, from which such portions as could be rescued were beinggreedily sought. 

From dark garrets and cellars the old hags and half-starved youngerwomen and children had gathered, and were reaping a harvest such as theyhad never dreamed of. I saw a small boy, with an old, wrinkled, grinningwoman at his heels, steer a barrel of flour around a corner and into anarrow alley with the speed and skill of a roustabout. The fire on thefloors had not extended to the structures as we passed, but as no oneseemed in the least concerned or interfered with their progress theflames soon put in their work and spread in all directions. 

We crossed the James on Mayo's Bridge, following the road in asouthwesterly direction. With the first appearance of dawn the blowingup of the naval vessels in the river began, culminating in a giganticexplosion that made the earth tremble. This last was the magazine atDrewry's Bluff. 

Witnessing such scenes, with a realization of their significance, inthe early part of our war experience would, no doubt, have beenhopelessly demoralizing, but now the calmness and fortitude with whichwe took it demonstrated the fact that four years of such schooling hadseasoned us to meet unflinchingly the most desperate situations. Whenbroad daylight came we had the opportunity of seeing some of theheterogeneous elements of which Richmond was composed. Disaster had cometoo suddenly to afford time beforehand for the non-combatants tomigrate, even if there had been safe places to which to flee. 

That such looking objects should have undertaken to accompany an army inthe field, or rather into the fields, indicated what desperate chancesthey were willing to take rather than abandon themselves to a doubtfulfate by remaining behind. In addition to the city contingent and thosewho garrisoned the forts where heavy ordnance only was used, the line ofmarch was joined by the marine department, which had been doing duty onthe river craft about Dutch Gap, Drewry's and Chaffin's bluffs, etc. Altogether, it was a motley combination, which afforded much amusementand the usual sallies of wit at each other's expense. The marine elementwas the most striking in appearance, and encumbered with enough baggagefor a voyage to the North Pole. In three days' time this had all beendiscarded. 

After marching day and night the two wings of our army, having beenseparated since the previous summer, united at Amelia Court House, about 40 miles from Richmond. Ours--that is, the one from the north sideof the river--had not been pressed by the enemy up to this point. As ifin recognition of and to celebrate the reunion, an explosion took placefar too violent for an ordinary salute. During a short halt, while theroad was filled with infantry and artillery side by side, we felt theearth heave under our feet, followed instantly by a terrific report, andthen a body of fire and flame, a hundred feet in diameter, shot skywardfrom beyond an intervening copse of woods. It proved to be the blowingup of sixty caissons, one hundred and eighty chests of ammunition, whichcould not be hauled farther for want of horses. For a moment the roarand concussion produced consternation. Those who were standing crouchedas if for something to cling to, and those sitting sprang to their feet. The Crater affair at Petersburg had not been forgotten, and that weshould be hurled into space by some infernal eruption flashed into ourminds. 

Provisions had been ordered by General Lee over the railroad fromDanville to Amelia Court House in readiness for the army on its arrivalthere. By some misunderstanding, or negligence on the part of therailroad management, these supplies had gone on to Richmond, so that allexpectation of satisfying hunger was now gone. Corn on the cob hadalready been issued to the men, which, it may be presumed, was to beeaten raw, as no time nor means for parching it was available. Three ofthese "nubbins, " which had been preserved, I saw many years after thewar. 

After trudging along, with short halts and making very little progress, our battery of only two guns went into park about midnight, but withoutunhitching the horses. After being roused several times from sleep tomarch, I concluded, after the third false alarm, to lie still. When Iawoke some time later the battery had moved and, in the dim light, Ifailed to find the course it had taken. Following on for some distance Icame to General Lee's headquarters in a farmhouse by the roadside, andwas informed by Capt. James Garnett, one of the staff, that the batterywould soon pass along the road at the point we then were. Sitting downwith my back against a tree I, of course, fell asleep. From this I wasshortly roused by rapid firing close by, and saw our wagon-trainscattered and fleeing across the fields, with horses at a run and hotlypursued by Federal cavalry, who, with reins on their horses' necks, werefiring at them with repeating guns. I was overlooked and passed by inthe chase as too small game for them. 

The road over which I had passed was in the form of a semi-circle, andto escape I obliqued across the fields to a point I had gone over anhour or two before, where it crossed Sailor's Creek. Along the road, ascending the hill on the south side of the creek, I found severalbrigades of our infantry, commanded by Ex-Governor Billy Smith, Gen. Custis Lee and Colonel Crutchfield, halted in the road and exposed to asharp artillery fire, which, notwithstanding the fact that the place washeavily wooded, was very accurate and searching. Colonel Crutchfield waskilled here, his head being taken off by a solid shot. This was not acomfortable place in which to linger while waiting for the battery, butcomfortable places in that neighborhood seemed exceedingly scarce. 

[Illustration: JOHN M. BROWN]

Very soon my friend, Henry Wise, who was a lieutenant in Huger'sbattalion of artillery, appeared on horseback and informed me thatalmost all of the cannoneers of his battalion had just been captured andthat he was then in search of men to take their places. I offered myservices, and, following the directions he gave, soon found his guns, and was assigned to a number at one of them by Lieut. George Poindexter, another old acquaintance of Lexington. 

The infantry at this part of the line was what was left of Pickett'sdivision, among whom I recognized and chatted with other old friends ofthe Virginia Military Institute as we sat resignedly waiting for theimpending storm to burst. The Federal cavalry which had passed mepreviously in pursuit of our wagons, quartermasters, etc. , was part of asquadron that had gotten in rear of Pickett's men and given GeneralPickett and staff a hot chase for some distance along the line of hiscommand. Some of their men and horses were killed in their eagerness tooverhaul the General. It was perfectly evident that our thin line ofbattle was soon to be assaulted, as the enemy's skirmishers wereadvancing on our front and right flank and his cannon sweeping theposition from our left. We were not long in suspense. Almostsimultaneously we were raked by missiles from three directions. To haveoffered resistance would have been sheer folly. In fifteen minutes thefew survivors of Pickett's immortal division had been run over andcaptured, together with the brigades which were posted on their left. 

Lieutenant Wise having failed to receive any other cannoneers to replacethose previously captured, the guns, without firing a shot, were leftstanding unlimbered. As we started in haste to retire, he and Poindexterbeing mounted, expressed great concern lest I, being on foot, should becaptured. Just as they left me, however, and while the air seemed filledwith flying lead and iron, I came upon one of the ambulance corps whowas trying to lead an unruly horse. It was a Federal cavalry horse, whose rider had been killed in pursuit of General Pickett. In thehorse's efforts to break loose, the two saddles he was carrying hadslipped from his back and were dangling underneath, which increased hisfright. I suggested to the man that, to escape capture, he had bettergive me the horse, as he seemed to be afraid to ride him. To this hereadily assented, and, with his knife, cut one saddle loose, set theother on his back, and handed me the halter-strap as I mounted. Theterrified animal, without bridle or spur, was off like a flash, and in afew minutes had carried me out of the melée. I still have and prize thesaddle. The few who escaped from this affair, known as the battle ofSailor's Creek, by retreating a mile north came in proximity to anothercolumn of our troops marching on a parallel road. 

As I rode up I saw General Lee dismounted and standing on a railroadembankment, intently observing our fleeing men, who now began to throngabout him. He very quietly but firmly let them know that it would bebest not to collect in groups; the importance of which they at onceunderstood and acted on. 

Approaching night, which on previous occasions, when conditions werereversed, had interfered to our disadvantage, now shielded us fromfurther pursuit. It can readily be seen what demoralization would followsuch an exhibition of our utter helplessness. But still there seemed tobe no alternative but to prolong the agony, although perfectly assuredthat we could not escape death or capture, and that in a very brieftime. Soon after nightfall I found our battery, which had traveled overa shorter and less exposed road, and thereby escaped the adventureswhich had fallen to my lot. Our course was now toward High Bridge, whichspans the Appomattox River near Farmville. On we toiled throughout thenight, making very slow progress, but not halting until near noon thefollowing day. Under present conditions there were not the ordinaryinducements to make a halt, as food for man and beast was not inevidence. I had not eaten a bite for forty-eight hours. Notwithstandingthis, and as if to draw attention from our empty stomachs, orders cameto countermarch and meet a threatened attack on the line in our rear. Tothis the two guns with their detachments promptly responded, reported toGeneral Mahone and took part with his division in a spirited battle atCumberland Church. 

It has been stated, by those who had opportunities of knowing, thatMahone's division was never driven from its position in battlethroughout the four years of the war. True or not, it held good in thiscase, and those of our battery who took part with them were enthusiasticover the gallant fight they made under circumstances that were notinspiring. There being a surplus of men to man our two guns, Lieut. ColeDavis and Billy McCauley procured muskets and took part with theinfantry sharpshooters. McCauley was killed. He was a model soldier, active and wiry as a cat and tough as a hickory sapling. He had seeninfantry service before joining our battery, and, as already mentioned, had "rammed home" one hundred and seventy-five shells in the firstbattle of Fredericksburg. Another member of our company, LauncelotMinor, a boy of less than eighteen years, was shot through the lungs bya Minie-ball. Although he was thought to be dying, our old ambulancedriver, John L. Moore, insisted on putting him into the ambulance, inwhich he eventually hauled him to his home in Albemarle County, fifty orsixty miles distant. After some days he regained consciousness, recovered entirely, and is now a successful and wealthy lawyer inArkansas, and rejoices in meeting his old comrades at reunions. Hisfirst meeting with Moore after the incident related above was at areunion of our company in Richmond thirty years after the war, and theirgreeting of each other was a memorable one. 

CHAPTER XXIX

APPOMATTOX

Another night was now at hand, and while it might be supposed thatnothing could be added to intensify the suspense there certainly wasnothing to allay it. Although there was little left to destroy, wepassed heaps of burning papers, abandoned wagons, etc. , along theroadsides. 

As each new scene or condition in our lives gives rise to some new andcorresponding feeling or emotion, our environment at this time was suchas to evoke sensations of dread and apprehension hitherto unknown. Moving parallel with us, and extending its folds like some huge reptile, was an army equipped with the best the world could afford--three-foldgreater in numbers than our own--which in four years had never succeededin defeating us in a general battle, but which we had repeatedly routedand driven to cover. Impatient of delay in effecting our overthrow inbattle, in order to starve us out, marauding bands had scoured thecountry, leaving ashes and desolation in their wake. 

That now their opportunity to pay up old scores had come, we fullyrealized, and anticipated with dread the day of reckoning. GeneralGrant, who was Commander-in-Chief of all the Federal armies, and atpresent personally in command of the army about us, was by no meansregarded as a man of mercy. He had positively refused to exchangeprisoners, thousands of whom on both sides were languishing and dying inthe hands of their captors. It should be borne in mind, in thisconnection, that the offers to exchange had come from the Confederateauthorities, and for the last two years of the war had been invariablyrejected by the Federal Government. In the campaign beginning in May, 1864, and ending with the evacuation of Richmond, Grant's army hadsustained a loss greater in number than that of the whole army opposedto him. 

Among the ranks were foreigners of every nationality. I had seen, asprisoners in our hands, a whole brigade of Germans who could not speak aword of English. During the preceding winter we had been confronted withregiments of our former slaves. Our homes and people we were leavingbehind to the mercy of these hordes, as if forever. 

Another and by no means unimportant consideration was whether to remainand meet results with the command, or for each man to shift for himself. Setting out from Richmond on the preceding Sunday, with no accumulationof vigor to draw on, we had passed a week with food and sleep scarcelysufficient for one day; and to cope with such exigencies as nowconfronted us, what a part the stomach does play! All in all, it was asituation of a lifetime that will ever abide in the gloomy recesses ofmemory. About eight o'clock on Sunday morning, April 9, as our two gunswere entering the little village of Appomattox, several cannon-shotssounded in quick succession immediately in our front. Without word ofcommand we came to our last halt. 

Turning out of the road we went into park, unhitched our hungry horses, and awaited developments. During the two preceding days several writtencommunications had passed between Generals Lee and Grant, of which weknew nothing. Our suspense, however, was soon interrupted by theappearance of a Confederate officer, accompanied by a Federal officerwith long, flowing yellow hair, and waving a white handkerchief as theygalloped by. This was General Custer, of cavalry fame, and theconspicuous hero and victim of the Indian massacre, which bore his name, in Idaho ten years later. 

Several sharp encounters had occurred during the morning, in which ourmen displayed the same unflinching valor, capturing in a charge aFederal major-general (Gregg) and two pieces of artillery; but now allfiring had ceased, and the stillness that followed was oppressive. Assoon as it became known that General Lee had surrendered, although fordays it had been perfectly understood that such a result wasinevitable, there was for a time no little excitement and commotionamong the men. That we should be subjected to abhorrent humiliation wasconceived as a matter of course, and, to avoid it, all sorts of effortsand plans to escape were discussed. The one controlling influence, however, to allay such a feeling was the unbounded and unimpairedconfidence in General Lee. The conduct and bearing of the men werecharacterized by the same sterling qualities they had always displayed. The only exhibition of petulance that I witnessed was by a staff officerwho bore no scars or other evidence of hardships undergone, but whoacquired great reputation after the war. He "could not submit to suchdegradation, " etc. , threw away his spurs and chafed quite dramatically. When a bystander suggested that we cut our way out, he objected that wehad no arms. "We can follow those that have, " was the reply, "and usethe guns of those that fall!" He did not accede to the proposition; butlater I heard him insist that one of our drivers should let him have hisspurs, as he, the driver, would have no further use for them; but he didnot get the spurs. 

By noon, or soon thereafter, the terms of the surrender were madeknown--terms so generous, considerate, and unlooked-for as scarcelybelieved to be possible. None of that exposure to the gaze andexultation of a victorious foe, such as we had seen pictured in ourschool-books, or as practised by conquering nations in all times. Wehad felt it as not improbable that, after an ordeal of mortifyingexposure for the gratification of the military, we would be paradedthrough Northern cities for the benefit of jeering crowds. So, when welearned that we should be paroled, and go to our homes unmolested, therelief was unbounded. 

Early in the afternoon General Lee, mounted on "Traveler" and clad in aspotless new uniform, passed along on his return from an interview withGeneral Grant. I stood close by the roadside, along which many of hisold soldiers had gathered, in anticipation of his coming, and, in a lifeof more than three-score years, with perhaps more than ordinaryopportunities of seeing inspiring sights, both of God's and man'screation, the impression and effect of General Lee's face and appearanceas he rode by, hat in hand, stands pre-eminent. A few of the men startedto cheer, but almost instantly ceased, and stood in silence with theothers--all with heads bared. 

The favorable and entirely unexpected terms of surrender wonderfullyrestored our souls; and at once plans, first for returning to our homes, and then for starting life anew, afforded ample interest andentertainment. One of the privileges granted in the terms of surrenderwas the retention, by officers and cavalrymen, of their own horses. Myrecent acquisition at Sailor's Creek had put me in possession of ahorse, but to retain him was the difficulty, as I was neither officernor cavalryman. Buoyed up with the excitement of bursting shells andthe noise of battle, he had carried me out gamely, but, this over, therewas but little life in him. I transferred the saddle and bridle to ahorse abandoned in the road with some artillery, and left my oldbenefactor standing, with limbs wide apart and head down, for hisoriginal owners. 

[Illustration: FAC-SIMILE OF PAROLE SIGNED BY GENERAL PENDLETON]

To accomplish my purpose of going out with a horse, two obstacles hadfirst to be overcome. Being only a cannoneer, I was not supposed to owna horse, so I must be something else. I laid the case before GeneralPendleton, our old neighbor in Lexington, and my former school-teacher. It was rather late to give me a commission, but he at once appointed mea courier on his staff, and as such I was paroled, and still have thevalued little paper, a _fac-simile_ of which is shown opposite. 

The next difficulty to be met, the horse I had exchanged for was brandedC. S. , and, even if allowed to pass then, I feared would be confiscatedlater. There was a handsome sorrel, also branded C. S. , among ourbattery horses, to which Lieut. Ned Dandridge, of General Pendleton'sstaff, had taken a fancy. For the sorrel he substituted a big, bonyyoung bay of his own. I replaced the bay with my C. S. Horse, and wasnow equipped for peace. The branded sorrel was soon taken by theFederals. 

After resting and fattening my bay, I sold him for a good price, and wasthus enabled to return to Washington College and serve again underGeneral Lee. 

APPENDIX

Under an act of the General Assembly of Virginia, 1898, the Camps ofConfederate Veterans, organized in the several cities and towns of theCommonwealth, were authorized to prepare lists of the citizens of theirrespective counties who served as soldiers during the war between theStates, and of those belonging to such companies, and these lists wereto be duly recorded by the Clerks of the County Courts of the countiesand kept among the Court Records. The following list is taken from thisrecord, and is as nearly accurate as is possible at this date:

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY

ROLL OF COMPANY [The names with a star prefixed are the men fromRockbridge County. ]

The enrollment of the Rockbridge Artillery began April 19, 1861, and bythe 21st the company numbered about seventy men, and was organized bythe election of the following officers: Captain, John McCausland; and J. Bowyer Brockenbrough, Wm. McLaughlin and Wm. T. Poague, lieutenants. Captain McCausland soon thereafter was made lieutenant-colonel andordered to the western part of the State. On the 29th of April thecompany unanimously elected Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton captain. 

The company left Lexington for the seat of war May 10, 1861, with twosmall, brass six-pounders obtained at the Virginia Military Institute. It was regularly mustered into the Confederate service at Staunton, Virginia, on May 11, and at once ordered to Harper's Ferry, where itreceived two more guns. After the First Brigade was organized, underGen. Thomas J. Jackson, the Rockbridge Artillery was assigned to it, andcontinued a component part of the Stonewall Brigade, in touch with andoccupying the same positions with it in all its battles and skirmishesup to Sharpsburg. 

Upon the reorganization of the artillery, in October, 1862, the batterywas assigned to the First Regiment Virginia Artillery, under the commandof Col. J. Thompson Brown, and continued with it till the close of thewar. The first fight it was engaged in, and which made a part of itshistory, occurred July 2 near Hainesville, when General Pattersoncrossed the Potomac and advanced on Winchester. But one piece wasengaged, and this fired the first shot from a Confederate gun in theShenandoah Valley. 

The battery had five captains from first to last: First, JohnMcCausland, afterward brigadier-general of cavalry; second, Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, D. D. , in command from May 1, 1861, until after the firstbattle of Manassas, afterward brigadier-general and chief of artilleryin the Army of Northern Virginia; third, Wm. McLaughlin, afterwardlieutenant-colonel of artillery, in command until April 2, 1862; fourth, Wm. T. Poague, afterward lieutenant-colonel of artillery, Army ofNorthern Virginia, in command until after the first battle ofFredericksburg; fifth, Archibald Graham, from that time until thesurrender at Appomattox, at which place ninety-three men and officerslaid down their arms. 

This company had the reputation of being one of the finest companies inthe service. So high was the intellectual quality of the men thatforty-five were commissioned as officers and assigned to other companiesin the service. Many of them reached high distinction. At no time duringthe war did this company want for recruits, but it was so popular thatit always had a list from which it could fill its ranks, which weresometimes depleted by its heavy casualties and numerous promotions fromits roster. 

The following officers and men were mustered into the service of theConfederate States at Staunton, Virginia, on the 11th day of May, 1861:

*Captain W. N. Pendleton; brigadier-general, chief of artillery A. N. V. ;paroled at Appomattox. 

*First Lieutenant J. B. Brockenbrough; wounded at first Manassas;captain Baltimore Artillery, major of artillery A. N. V. 

*Second Lieutenant Wm. McLaughlin; captain; lieutenant-colonel ofartillery. 

*Second Lieutenant W. T. Poague; captain; lieutenant-colonel ofartillery A. N. V. ; wounded at second Cold Harbor; paroled at Appomattox. 

*First Sergeant J. McD. Alexander; lieutenant Rockbridge Artillery;entered cavalry. 

*Second Sergeant J. Cole Davis; lieutenant Rockbridge Artillery; woundedat Port Republic; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Third Sergeant Archibald Graham; lieutenant and captain RockbridgeArtillery; paroled at Appomattox. 

PRIVATES

*Agner, Jos. S. ; killed at Fredericksburg December 13, 1862. 

*Ayres, Jas. ; discharged for physical disability August, 1861. 

*Ayres, N. B. ; deserted, went into Federal army. 

*Anderson, S. D. ; killed at Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

*Beard, John; killed at Fredericksburg December 13, 1862. 

*Beard, W. B. ; died from effects of measles summer of 1861. 

*Bain, Samuel. 

*Brockenbrough, W. N. ; corporal; transferred to Baltimore LightArtillery. 

*Brown, W. M. ; corporal, sergeant, lieutenant; wounded and captured atGettysburg. 

*Bumpus, W. N. ; corporal; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Conner, Blain; discharged for physical disability in spring, 1861. 

*Conner, George; arm broken by stallion; absent after winter of 1861-62. 

*Conner, Jas. A. ; wounded at Sharpsburg and Gettysburg; took the oath inprison and joined Federal army and fought Indians in Northwest. 

*Conner, John C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Coffee, A. W. 

*Craig, John B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Crosen, W. 

*Curran, Daniel; died from disease in summer of 1862. 

*Davis, Mark; deserted. 

*Davis, R. G. ; died from disease in 1861. 

*Doran, John; wounded at Malvern Hill in 1862; disabled. 

*Dudley, R. M. 

*Ford, Henry; discharged after one year. 

*Ford, Jas. A. ; wounded. 

*Gibbs, J. T. , Jr. ; wounded at Port Republic June 22, 1862; died fromdisease. 

*Gold, J. M. ; captured at Gettysburg and died in prison. 

*Gordon, W. C. ; wounded at Fredericksburg; disabled. 

*Harris, Alex. ; captured at Gettysburg and died in prison. 

*Harris, Bowlin; captured at Gettysburg; kept in prison. 

*Hetterick, Ferdinand; discharged after one year. 

*Henry, N. S. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Hughes, Wm. ; discharged. 

*Hostetter, G. W. ; transferred to infantry. 

*Johnson, Lawson; died in summer of 1861. 

*Johnson, W. F. ; corporal, quartermaster sergeant; paroled atAppomattox. 

*Jordan, J. W. ; wounded at first Manassas; corporal, sergeant, lieutenant; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Leopard, Jas. ; transferred to Carpenter's battery. 

*Lewis, Henry P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lewis, R. P. ; transferred to cavalry in spring of 1862. 

*Leyburn, John; lieutenant Rockbridge Artillery; surgeon on privateer. 

*Martin, Thomas; wounded and captured at Gettysburg. 

*McCampbell, D. A. ; died from disease in December, 1864. 

*McCampbell, W. H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCluer, John G. ; corporal Rockbridge Artillery; transferred tocavalry. 

*McCorkle, J. Baxter; corporal, sergeant, lieutenant RockbridgeArtillery; killed at first Fredericksburg. 

*Montgomery, W. G. ; killed at first Fredericksburg. 

*Moore, D. E. ; corporal, sergeant; wounded at Winchester and at MalvernHill; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Moore, John D. ; quartermaster sergeant; captured after Gettysburg, prisoner until close of war. 

*Moore, Samuel R. ; mortally wounded at Sharpsburg. 

*Morgan, G. W. ; sick and absent most of the time. 

*O'Rourke, Frank; wounded at Malvern Hill; deserted. 

*Paxton, J. Lewis; sergeant; lost leg at Kernstown. 

*Phillips, James. 

*Preston, Frank; lost an arm at Winchester May 25, 1862; captainVirginia Military Institute Company. 

*Raynes, A. G. ; detailed as miller. 

*Rader, D. P. ; wounded at Fredericksburg December 13, 1862. 

*Rhodes, J. N. ; discharged, over age. 

*Smith, Joseph S. ; transferred to cavalry; killed in battle. 

*Smith, S. C. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Smith, Adam; discharged after one year. 

*Strickler, James. 

*Strickler, W. L. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Silvey, James; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Tharp, Benjamin F. ; transferred to cavalry in spring of 1862. 

*Thompson, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Thompson, S. G. 

*Tompkins, J. F. ; corporal; detailed in Ordnance Department. 

*Trevy, Jacob; wounded at Gettysburg; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Wallace, John; killed at Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

*Wilson, S. A. ; discharged for physical disability August, 1861; joinedcavalry. 

The following joined the battery after May 11, 1861; dates of enlistmentbeing given as far as known:

*Adams, Thomas T. ; enlisted 1863; discharged; later killed in battle. 

*Adkins, Blackburn; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Agner, Oscar W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Agner, John; enlisted July 21, 1861. 

*Agner, Jonathan; enlisted July 29, 1861; killed at Kernstown May 25, 1862. 

*Agner, Samuel S. ; enlisted fall of 1862. 

Alexander, Edgar S. ; enlisted September 2, 1861; lost an arm atFredericksburg, 1862. 

Alexander, Eugene; enlisted August 23, 1861; wounded at second Manassas;transferred to cavalry. 

Armisted, Charles J. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Arnold, A. E. ; enlisted September 1, 1861; corporal, assistant surgeon. 

Bacon, Edloe P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Bacon, Edloe P. , Jr. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Baldwin, William Ludlow; paroled at Appomattox. 

Barger, William G. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Barton, David R. ; enlisted June 27, 1861; lieutenant in Cutshaw'sbattery; killed. 

Barton, Robert T. ; enlisted March 7, 1862. 

Bedinger, G. R. ; July 9, 1861; transferred to infantry; killed atGettysburg; captain. 

Bealle, Jerry T. ; enlisted November 21, 1861. 

Bell, Robert S. ; enlisted November 19, 1861; killed at RappahannockStation. 

*Black, Benjamin F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Blain, Daniel; enlisted May 27, 1861; detailed in Ordnance Department;paroled at Appomattox. 

Blackford, L. M. ; enlisted September 2, 1861; adjutant Twenty-sixthVirginia Infantry. 

Boiling, W. H. ; enlisted March 10, 1862; corporal. 

Boteler, A. R. , Jr. ; enlisted March 1, 1862; wounded May 25, 1862. 

Boteler, Charles P. ; enlisted October 23, 1861; transferred to cavalry. 

Boteler, Henry; enlisted October 10, 1861; corporal; paroled atAppomattox. 

Boyd, E. Holmes; enlisted June 28, 1861; transferred to OrdnanceDepartment. 

Brooke, Pendleton; enlisted October 28, 1861; discharged for physicaldisability. 

Brown, H. C. ; enlisted 1862; detailed in Signal Corps. 

*Brown, John L. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; killed at Malvern Hill. 

Brown, John M. ; enlisted March 11, 1862; wounded at Malvern Hill;paroled at Appomattox. 

Bryan, Edward; enlisted November 22, 1861. 

Burwell, Lewis P. ; enlisted September 21, 1861; transferred. 

Byers, G. Newton; enlisted August 23, 1861; corporal; paroled atAppomattox. 

*Byrd, W. H. ; enlisted August 15, 1861; killed at Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

*Byrd, William. 

*Carson, William; enlisted July 23, 1861; corporal; paroled atAppomattox. 

Caruthers, Thornton; enlisted December 21, 1862. 

*Chapin, W. T. 

Clark, James G. ; enlisted June 15, 1861; transferred. 

Clark, J. Gregory; enlisted July 16, 1862; transferred. 

Cook, Richard D. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Compton, Robert K. ; enlisted July 25, 1861; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Conner, Alexander; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded May 25, 1862, atWinchester; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Conner, Daniel; enlisted July 27, 1862. 

*Conner, Fitz G. 

*Conner, Henry C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Cox, W. H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

*Craig, Joseph E. ; enlisted March 2, 1863. 

*Crocken, Francis J. ; enlisted March 21, 1862. 

Dandridge, Stephen A. ; enlisted 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

Darnall, Andrew M. ; captured at Deep Bottom. 

Darnall, Henry T. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Davis, Charles W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Davis, James M. M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Davis, John E. ; died from disease June, 1864. 

*Dixon, W. H. H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded December 13, 1862;paroled at Appomattox. 

*Dold, C. M. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded at Newtown; paroled atAppomattox. 

Effinger, W. H. ; wounded at Sharpsburg; transferred to engineers. 

Emmett, Michael J. ; enlisted June 15, 1861; wounded and captured atGettysburg. 

Eppes, W. H. ; wounded September, 1862. 

*Estill, W. C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Fairfax, Randolph; enlisted August 10, 1861; wounded at Malvern Hill;killed at first Fredericksburg. 

Faulkner, E. Boyd; enlisted July 23, 1862; detailed at headquarters. 

Fishburne, C. D. ; enlisted June 21, 1861; sergeant; lieutenant inOrdnance Department. 

Foutz, Henry; enlisted September 6, 1862; killed at firstFredericksburg. 

Frazer, Robert; enlisted November 28, 1862; wounded at firstFredericksburg. 

Friend, Ben C. M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Fuller, John; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at Malvern Hill; killedat first Fredericksburg. 

Garnett, James M. ; enlisted July 17, 1861; lieutenant on staff. 

Gerardi, Edward. 

Gibson, Henry B. ; enlisted May 13, 1862. 

Gibson, John T. ; enlisted August 14, 1861. 

Gibson, Robert A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Gilliam, William T. 

Gilmer, James B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Gilmore, J. Harvey; enlisted March 7, 1862; chaplain. 

*Ginger, George A. ; enlisted March 6, 1862; wounded at Newtown; paroledat Appomattox. 

*Ginger, W. L. ; enlisted March 6, 1862; wounded and captured atGettysburg; prisoner till close of war. 

*Gold, Alfred; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at second Fredericksburg. 

Gooch, James T. ; transferred from engineers in 1863; paroled atAppomattox. 

*Goul, John M. ; enlisted June 14, 1861; chaplain A. N. V. ; died of feverin service. 

*Gray, O. P. ; enlisted March 21, 1862; killed at Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

Gregory, John M. ; enlisted September 7, 1861; wounded May 25, 1862;captain in Ordnance Department. 

*Green, Thomas; enlisted 1862; transferred. 

*Green, Zach. ; enlisted 1862; transferred. 

Gross, Charles; enlisted July 27, 1862. 

*Hall, John F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; died near Richmond, 1862. 

Heiskell, J. Campbell; enlisted February 9, 1862; wounded in 1864;paroled at Appomattox. 

Heiskell, J. P. ; enlisted 1862; discharged for physical disability. 

*Herndon, Francis T. ; enlisted March 31, 1862; killed at Malvern Hill. 

Hitner, John K. ; enlisted March 17, 1862; wounded. 

*Holmes, John A. ; enlisted March 11, 1862. 

*Houston, James Rutherford; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Houston, William W. ; enlisted August 10, 1861; chaplain A. N. V. 

Hughes, William; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Hummerickhouse, John R. ; enlisted March 28, 1862. 

Hyde, Edward H. ; enlisted March 28, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

Johnson, Thomas E. 

Jones, Beverly R. ; enlisted July 3, 1861. 

Kean, Otho G. ; enlisted after capture at Vicksburg; paroled atAppomattox. 

Kean, William C. ; enlisted fall of 1861; transferred. 

*Knick, William; enlisted August 11, 1862; mortally wounded at secondFredericksburg. 

Lacy, Richard B. 

Lacy, William S. ; enlisted March 17, 1862; detailed in Signal Service;chaplain. 

Lawson, Joseph; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Lawson, William; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Leathers, John P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lecky, John H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred to cavalry. 

Lee, Robert E. , Jr. ; enlisted March 26, 1862; lieutenant on staff, andcaptain. 

*Leech, James M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Letcher, Samuel H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lewis, James P. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded. 

Lewis, Nicholas H. ; enlisted June 17, 1861. 

*Link, David; transferred from Rice's battery. 

Luke, Williamson; enlisted October 7, 1861; soon transferred to cavalry. 

*McAlpin, Joseph; enlisted March 3, 1862; mortally wounded at firstFredericksburg. 

*McCauley, John E. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; corporal, sergeant; paroledat Appomattox. 

*McCauley, William H. ; transferred from infantry; corporal; killed April7, 1865. 

*McClintic, W. S. ; enlisted October 4, 1861; wounded; paroled atAppomattox. 

*McCorkle, Tazwell E. ; enlisted in Hamden Sidney Company in 1861;captured at Rich Mountain; joined battery in 1864. 

*McCorkle, Thomas E. ; enlisted March 9, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCorkle, William A. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCrum, R. Barton; paroled at Appomattox. 

McGuire, Hugh H. , Jr. ; enlisted March 10; transferred to cavalry;captain; killed. 

McKim, Robert B. ; enlisted July 6, 1861; killed at Winchester May 25, 1862. 

Macon, Lyttleton S. ; enlisted June 27, 1861; corporal, sergeant;discharged. 

Magruder, Davenport D. ; enlisted March 1, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

Magruder, Horatio E. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Marshall, John J. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Marshall, Oscar M. ; enlisted March 6, 1862. 

Massie, John Livingstone; enlisted May 15, 1861; captain of artillery;killed. 

*Mateer, Samuel L. ; enlisted January 11, 1863; paroled at Appomattox. 

Maury, Magruder; enlisted in fall of 1861; transferred to cavalry. 

Maury, Thompson B. ; enlisted in fall of 1861; detailed in SignalService. 

Meade, Francis A. ; enlisted November, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

Merrick, Alfred D. ; enlisted December 30, 1861. 

Minor, Charles; enlisted November 16, 1861; transferred to engineers. 

Minor, Carter N. B. ; enlisted July 27, 1861. 

Minor, Launcelot; wounded at Cumberland Church. 

*Moore, Edward A. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded at Sharpsburg andtwice at second Cold Harbor; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Moore, John H. ; transferred from Rockbridge Rifles in spring of 1861;wounded; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Moore, John L. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded. 

*Mooterspaugh, William; enlisted 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

Montgomery, Ben T. ; transferred from another battery; paroled atAppomattox. 

*Myers, John M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Nelson, Francis K. ; enlisted May 17, 1861; transferred to AlbemarleLight Horse. 

Nelson, Kinloch; transferred from Albemarle Light Horse; disabled bycaisson turning over on him. 

Nelson, Philip; enlisted July 27, 1861; discharged by furnishingsubstitute. 

*Nicely, George H. ; enlisted March 7, 1862; died from disease, 1864. 

*Nicely, James W. ; enlisted March 7, 1862; deserted. 

*Nicely, John F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at Port Republic. 

Otey, William M. ; enlisted 1862; transferred soon thereafter. 

Packard, Joseph; enlisted July 7, 1861; corporal; lieutenant OrdnanceDepartment. 

Packard, Walter J. ; enlisted October 23, 1861; died summer of 1862. 

Page, Richard C. M. ; enlisted July 14, 1861; transferred; captain; majorartillery. 

Page, R. Powell; enlisted May 1, 1864; detailed courier to ColonelCarter. 

Paine, Henry M. 

*Paine, Henry R. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; corporal, sergeant; killed atsecond Manassas. 

Paine, James A. 

*Paxton, Samuel A. ; enlisted March 7, 1862. 

Pendleton, Dudley D. ; enlisted June 19, 1861; captain and assistantadjutant-general, artillery A. N. V. 

*Pleasants, Robert A. ; enlisted March 3, 1863. 

Pollard, James G. ; enlisted July 27, 1864; paroled at Appomattox. 

Porter, Mouina G. ; enlisted September 24, 1861; detailed courier. 

*Phillips, Charles; detailed in Signal Service. 

*Pugh, George W. ; enlisted March 6, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Pugh, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Rawlings, James M. 

*Rentzell, George W. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at Kernstown anddisabled. 

*Robertson, John W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Robinson, Arthur; enlisted March 28, 1862; mortally wounded at firstFredericksburg. 

*Root, Erastus C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Ruffin, Jefferson; transferred from another battery; paroled atAppomattox. 

Rutledge, Charles A. ; enlisted November 3, 1861; transferred. 

*Sandford, James; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Saville, John; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred to cavalry; died inservice. 

*Shaner, Joseph F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at firstFredericksburg; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Shaw, Campbell A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Shoulder, Jacob M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Singleton, William F. ; enlisted June 3, 1861; wounded and captured atPort Republic. 

*Schammerhorn, John G. 

Smith, J. Howard; enlisted September 2, 1861; lieutenant in OrdnanceDepartment. 

Smith, James P. ; enlisted July 9, 1861; lieutenant and captain on staffof General Jackson. 

Smith, James Morrison. 

Smith, Summerfield; enlisted September 2, 1861; died from disease. 

Stuart, G. W. C. ; enlisted May 13, 1862; wounded May 25, 1862; killed atsecond Fredericksburg. 

*Strickler, Joseph; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Stuart, W. C. ; wounded at second Cold Harbor; paroled at Appomattox. 

Swan, Minor W. ; enlisted August 15, 1863; paroled at Appomattox. 

Swan, Robert W. 

*Swisher, Benjamin R. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Swisher, George W. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded May 25, 1862;paroled at Appomattox. 

*Swisher, Samuel S. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Tate, James F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Taylor, Charles F. 

Taylor, Stevens M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Thompson, Ambrose; died July, 1864. 

*Thompson, Lucas P. ; enlisted August 15, 1861; paroled at Appomattox. 

Tidball, Thomas H. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Timberlake, Francis H. 

*Tomlinson, James W. ; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Trice, Leroy F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Trueheart, Charles W. ; enlisted October 24, 1861; corporal, assistantsurgeon. 

Tyler, D. Gardner; paroled at Appomattox. 

Tyler, John Alexander; enlisted April, 1865; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Van Pelt, Robert; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Veers, Charles O. ; enlisted September 10, 1861; transferred to cavalrysoon thereafter. 

*Vest, Andrew J. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; discharged. 

*Wade, Thomas M. ; enlisted March 7, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Walker, George A. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred to Carpenter'sbattery. 

*Walker, James S. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred to Carpenter'sbattery. 

*Walker, John W. ; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred to Carpenter'sbattery. 

Whitt, Algernon S. ; enlisted August 8, 1861; corporal; paroled atAppomattox. 

*White, William H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Williams, John J. ; enlisted July 15, 1861; transferred to Chew'sbattery. 

*Williamson, Thomas; wounded at Gettysburg; escaped at Appomattox withthe cavalry. 

*Williamson, William G. ; enlisted July 5, 1861; captain of engineers. 

*Wilson, Calvin. 

*Wilson, John; enlisted July 22, 1861; prisoner after Gettysburg; tookthe oath. 

*Wiseman, William; enlisted March 10, 1862. 

*Wilson, Samuel A. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded at Gettysburg;captured; died in prison. 

*Wilson, William M. ; enlisted August 12, 1861; corporal. 

Winston, Robert B. ; enlisted August 25, 1861. 

*Withrow, John; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Woody, Henry; transferred from infantry, 1864; deserted. 

*Wright, John W. ; enlisted 1864; wounded and disabled at SpottsylvaniaCourt House. 

Young, Charles E. ; enlisted March 17, 1862. 

The Rockbridge Artillery took part in the following engagements:

 Hainesville, July 2, 1861. First Manassas, July 21, 1861. Kernstown, March 23, 1862. Winchester, May 25, 1862. Charlestown, May, 1862. Port Republic, June 8 and 9, 1862. White Oak Swamp, June 30, and Malvern Hill, July 1, 1862. Cedar Run, August 9, 1862. Second Manassas, August 28, 29 and 30, 1862. Harper's Ferry, September 15, 1862. Sharpsburg, September 17, 1862. First Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862. Second Fredericksburg, May 2 and 3, 1863. Winchester, June 14, 1863. Gettysburg, July 2 and 3, 1863. Rappahannock Bridge, November 9, 1863. Mine Run, November 27, 1863. Spottsylvania Court House, May 12, 1864. Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864. Deep Bottom, July 27, 1864. New Market Heights, September, 1864. Fort Gilmore, 1864. Cumberland Church, April 7, 1865. 

The battery saw much service in fighting gunboats on James River, andtook part in many skirmishes not mentioned. 

The number of men, enrolled as above, is three hundred and five (305), of whom one hundred and seventy-three (173) were from the county ofRockbridge. Of the remainder, a large part were students, collegegraduates, University of Virginia men, and some divinity students. These, with the sturdy men from among the farmers and business men ofRockbridge, made up a company admirably fitted for the artilleryservice. 

The efficiency of the battery was due in no small part to its capacityfor rapid marching and maneuvering, and this to the care and managementof the horses mainly by men from this county. In the spring of 1862 alarge number of men was recruited for the battery, whose names are noton the above roll, and some of whom were engaged in the battle ofKernstown. In April, 1862, while encamped at Swift Run Gap, authoritywas given by General Jackson to reorganize the battery, making threecompanies thereof, with the view to form a battalion. Immediately aftertwo companies had been organized by the election of officers, theauthority for making three companies was revoked, and an order issuedto form one company only, and giving to all the men not embraced in thisone company the privilege of selecting a company in any branch of theservice. A large number of men, thus temporarily connected with theRockbridge Artillery, availed themselves of this privilege whose namesdo not appear on the above roll. It would now be impossible to make upthis list. 

RECAPITULATION

Enrolled as above, three hundred and five (305). 

Number from Rockbridge County, one hundred and seventy-three (173). 

Killed in battle, twenty-three (23). 

Died of disease contracted in service, sixteen (16). 

Wounded more or less severely, forty-nine (49). 

Slightly wounded, names not given, about fifty (50). 

Discharged from service for disability incurred therein, ten (10). 

Took the oath of allegiance to Federal Government while in prison, two(2). 

Deserted, five (5). 

Promoted to be commissioned officers, thirty-nine (39). 

Paroled at Appomattox, ninety-three (93). 

So great was the loss of horses, there having been over a hundred inthis battery killed in battle, that during the last year of the war theywere unhitched from the guns after going into action and taken to therear for safety.