CHAPTER III.
THIRD YEAR OF THE WAR.
When we left home we thought our command had gone across the Blue Ridge and were in the valley of Va. But when we got to Port Republic we learned they were moving in the direction of Chancellorsville, so we had to recross the Blue Ridge.
Just about sun down of the day we recrossed, we arrived at a Mrs. Woolfork’s. There were about 24 other soldiers stopping there for supper, also. Mrs. Woolfork’s son-in-law, Mr. Poindexter, had been in prison with us at Washington, just about a month before. He knew the country well and we decided to march all night in order to join the command. Just as supper was ready a citizen who lived nearby and knew we were all there, came in and said there was a lot of cavalrymen on the Louisa Spring road, but he could not just tell which way they were aiming to go.
While we were eating supper, some of the family stayed on the front porch to see if the cavalrymen would come that way and just when we were about half through supper, the young lady who stood guard rushed in and said the cavalrymen had come near enough for her to see they were yankees and a couple of them where already dismounting.
The dining room was in the basement and we all went out at an east door while the Yankees were coming in on the west side of the house on the upper floor. We ran and got our horses as rapidly as possible and rode about a mile, and then Mr. Poindexter and I went to a cross road to see if we could hear anything of them coming and to our surprise there was a whole division of cavalry coming. We had left our two horses with the other 28 men and we just stayed in the heavy pine timber, where we knew the Yankees couldn’t see us, until Stoneman’s whole division passed.
It was fortunate for us that this all took place after dark, for had it been a couple of hours earlier, the Yankees would have undoubtedly captured us all. We stayed all night in this pine timber about a mile from Poindexter’s home and kept on the alert all the time for fear other Yankees were following.
After day-break we started on in the direction of Chancellorsville, but soon found there were troops moving in front of us. Poindexter and I went in ahead of the other 28, to see if we could find out who they were and soon found they were Confederates.
I left Poindexter and went to them as soon as they halted and found it was Gen. William Henry Lee’s Division. Poindexter went back and told the other men to come on and we joined Lee’s men. He had no rations for his men and as we had only had a half supper the night before and no breakfast, he told us to go to a farm house near by and try and get something.
We found the man of the house as kind as any one could be. He was the father of our present Judge, William A. Anderson. He fed all 30 of us and our horses also.
We went back to Lee’s division after our late breakfast and after a short march, overtook Stoneman’s division and began fighting his rear men.
He checked the whole division, of course, to protect the rear and we thus checked his raid. I was in the rear line of the battle and didn’t see the hottest of the fight.
We were right at a house and as some one brought some prisoners by taking them to the rear, an old lady came out and saw the blue uniforms and began crying, and said: “Don’t kill any of them blues!” One fellow said: “I’m going to kill every d——n rascal I can.” She just fell down on the ground and said: “I’ve got a boy in the blues and I don’t want you to kill him.” I felt sorry for her and went to her and told her I was sorry she had a son in the yankee army. “Oh! he is not a yankee,” she said, “he is with Mr. Wiser’s folks.” They were called the Louisa Blues and the old lady thought any one having on blue clothes might be her boy.
About one o’clock the artillery began firing near Chancellorsville, about three or four miles from us, but Wm. Henry Lee held his position to keep Stoneman in check.
Shortly after nightfall Jackson was reconnoitering between his men and Hooker’s army, and had given orders to his outposts to fire on the first sound or man they saw or heard, and they not knowing he was out there, fired on him and mortally wounded him.
The next morning Gen. J. E. B. Stewart took command of Jackson’s division. Stewart began his march that morning and ordered the band to play his favorite: “The Old Gray Horse Jumped Over the Elephant.” He and one of his aids sang the tune, to other words, though. They were: “Old Joe Hooker Get Out of the Wilderness.”
Stewart followed Hooker and drove him across the Rappahannock. We 30 fellows, who hadn’t gotten to our company yet, got supper and breakfast among the citizens, and Wm. H. Lee sent us on to Orange, C. H. Here we found some more boys, who like ourselves, hadn’t found the command they belonged to yet. There were about 70 of us by this time. Some of them new men coming in, prisoners returning with their horses, like I was, and some coming back who had been on sick furloughs, etc.
We got rations here and laid down in the woods where the infantry had been camping and the next morning when we awoke the snow was falling in flakes more like biscuits, than snow flakes. If it had been biscuits it would have had to snow some, or we would have eaten it just as fast it fell.
I was about the first one to wake and I jumped up and shouted “Hurrah for Jeff. Davis.” Campbell, of Co. G. Bedford County, shouted back “Hurrah for H—.” Several fellows had to smile, when Campbell made his reply. I told Campbell I had always heard a bad beginning made a good ending, and when March came in like a lion it went out like a lamb. He said “yes, but this is the first of May and it is coming in like the devil, and I reckon it will go out like h—.” This caused laughter generally, and everybody was soon up and our fires started for breakfast.
We went into town after breakfast and orders had come to send all the men on to Culpepper C. H. Here we joined our command and found that none of our Co., had been killed at Chancellorsville. It had been about six weeks since I’d been with the Co., only the one night, before I started for my horse, after being captured.
Norman Hayth was our cook at this time and when the other members of mess got back from picket duty one day he had a lot of beef cooked, that was highly flavored with garlic. Not one of the boys in the mess could eat it, but me, so I traded each of them some other part of my supper for their beef and ate all eight of the rations. They all said I’d die before morning. I told them I’d come nearer dying from not getting enough beef than too much. Joe Shaver was sick and we put him in a tent near by and John Q. H. Thrasher was taking care of him. Well in the night I woke up and the garlic had gotten in my head so that I was sneezing and gaging and John heard me and hallooed to the boys to see what was the matter with that man. They soon found I was the fellow in trouble, but they all laughed and said that’s the man with the 8 rations of beef. He’ll come. Such a time as I had with that garlic for a while, I told them I’d invented a separator to separate the garlic from the meat. By this time a lot of boys was awake and shouting and laughing, soldier like, and the Capt. had to call us to order before the fun stopped. I didn’t get sick at all but the garlic just filled my head almost like an overdose of snuff would I imagine.
The next thing that happened to me of any note was one day another boy and I decided to go to see some young ladies, and we went down to a pond to wash and the water was low, so we had dug basins around the edge so the water would clear up by the time we needed it, and just as we were about washed and dressed in our very best, a stray bullet came whizzing along and went right into the muddiest part of the pond and threw mud all over us. Well, now if ever boys felt like saying Sunday school words, we did then. We had to give up our trip for that day any way.
We had fine pasture for our horses and they soon fattened and looked so nice, that we could hardly realize they were the same animals we’d brought through the winter. We were in camp here until the 20th of June, when the grand review of the whole army took place at Culpepper C. H.
The fences had all been torn away and the infantry, cavalry and artillery were all stationed, so that Gen. Lee and his aids could review them. After he had gone around and seen them all, he took a position and ordered all to march by him in battallions. The cavalry passed first, then infantry, then artillery. The artillery took a position on the heights and fired all the cannons as Gen. Lee passed by again.
Gen. Lee had ordered all the cavalry and wagon horses to be shod, but we didn’t know what was to follow. The night after the review a grand ball was given in the town. When Gens. Kilpatrick and Buford of the U. S. army heard the firing of the artillery, they sent out scouting parties on all the roads to see what it meant.
Just at the height of the ball our pickets came in and reported that the Yankees were coming in on all the roads, which put a sudden stop to gaities and every man hastened to his post of duty. The cavalry was sent to guard all the fords on the Rappahannock. Our command was sent to McLean’s Ford to throw up fortifications, which we did until daybreak. At daybreak we found there was a squadron of cavalry near us, which we could see over our fortifications.
Two of the men came down to the ford and watered their horses and I talked to them across the river as it was a narrow ford. They continued coming down, by two’s until about 8 o’clock.
At about 9 o’clock Gen. Kilpatrick aimed to cross at Kelley’s Ford and was met by Gen. Wade Hampton. A desperate battle was fought and finally Hampton succeeded in driving them back across the river.
We were near enough to hear the firing but not near enough to engage in it. Gen. Stoneman did not attempt to cross where we were, so we just stood guard all day. While this was going on Gen. Lee, with the remainder of the army, was moving on toward Harpers Ferry.
We were ordered from the ford late in the evening and started in the direction of Manassas Junction. We were there on the same side of the river with Stoneman and marching on roads parallel to each other, but neither General knew the other’s course until after the camp fires were started.
We went into camp in the rear of Stoneman’s men, and later in the night, Gen. Kilpatrick’s forces camped in a skirt of woods just behind us, and a little later Gen. Wade Hampton, following on, got a message from Gen. Stewart that Stoneman was in front of us and Kilpatrick behind us, and for him to camp in the woods just behind Kilpatrick and at daybreak to open fire on Kilpatrick’s men and he, Stewart, would have us fire on Kilpatrick’s and Stoneman’s men also. This we carried out and completely routed both commands. They didn’t know the other’s position and we surprised them so, that all they could do was to try to get away. We killed and captured a good many, but they didn’t resist us. It was just a running fight.
We drove them all that day on toward Washington, not stopping to get food, and went into camp at nightfall.
Stewart and Hampton crossed the Potomac with their men at Seneca Falls in the night. When Gen. Hooker learned that Lee was going on toward Maryland, he took his men and tried to get in front of him, which he did. Eight packet boats had been sent up with provisions for Hooker’s army, and when they came into the locks not knowing we were there, we turned the wickets and let the water out and burned the boats. We had been marching four days without any provisions at all, so we took what we could in our haversacks, before burning the boats. We took the mules, 24 in number, on with us. We helped the woman and children from the boats and took their furniture out, as we didn’t want to destroy private property. It was hard to do then, with them all crying like they did, but such is war.
In a short distance from where we crossed the river, we came on a garrison of yankees at a place called West Minster and captured them all, without the loss of a man. We so completely surprised them that they surrendered without resistance. We went on to Hanover to capture a garrison there, but they learned of our coming and resisted us with right heavy loss to both sides. One of our young men, Walter Gilmore, was shot in the shoulder, as he was riding between Chas. Price and myself, as we were trying to get him to the rear, he was shot in the left eye, but we finally got to a house and asked the lady of the house to take care of him, while we went on and took the garrison. I never knew anything more of young Gilmore until the summer of 1911. I met him at New Port News at a reunion. He told me he was sent to a hospital in Baltimore by the Yankees and received the kindest of treatment and the best of medical aid and soon recovered.
We took our West Minster and Hanover prisoners on with us and our next stop was at Carlisle, Penn. All the provisions we had on this march, except what some of us got from the boats, was what we could beg from the citizens. Some of us nearly starved. Here we destroyed some of the public buildings in which food for the Yankees was stored. We threw hot shot a mile or so and wherever these hot balls would strike, they would set fire. Some of our men who were marching ahead of our Co. had set fire to Thad Stevens’ Iron Works in Penn. and as we passed and saw it burning I told the boys that was a bad move, that the Yankees would soon retaliate and do us more damage than we could do them, as so much of the fighting was done on southern ground.
We did this shelling with hot shot at night and continued marching all night. We still marched all the next day stopping occasionally for a little while to let our horses graze.
About noon we heard cannonading about Gettysburg. Gen. Lee had arrived Friday July 1st, with his whole army except Pickett’s division, which was coming from Chambersburg and Hampton’s and Stewart’s divisions of cavalry with which I made the trip. Lee had engaged the enemy Saturday and drove them back, but could not make a general charge, as these three divisions hadn’t arrived. Had these divisions been full numbered there would have been about 48,000 men. But of course a great many of different companies had been killed or disabled. For instance Co. C. the one to which I belonged, only had 64 men bearing arms when we left Va. a Co. was supposed to have 100 men, of course, and they were recruited at different times, but I remember we only had 64 then and other companies may have been cut down, also, so it would be hard to determine just how many men were in these three divisions. However there were so many that Lee waited until they arrived to bring on the general charge. We arrived Saturday evening July 2. As we had been marching so much and had so little rest since June 20, we all laid down in a stubble field and were soon fast asleep. I tied my horse’s halter strap to my gun sling and just left saddle and all on, and when I awoke the next morning, I was about 30 yds. farther down in the field than where I went to sleep. She had just dragged me on as she ate, but I was too dead asleep to know it. Before we got to sleep the enemy was firing a cannon every little while and every thing would be as visible as in day time. But it was a dark night and illuminations made it seem darker, of course, after disappearing, the shells would some time burst over us, but didn’t do us any harm.
Some of the boys heard the cannon all night at intervals, but I was too exhausted to hear a great deal.
At daylight the bugle sounded and we mounted our horses and went out to join the line of battle before having any breakfast. As our wagon train wasn’t with us, we hadn’t had any rations issued since the 20th of June and all we had was what citizens gave us. There were too many of us, for any one man to get much, so we thought of breakfast the first thing, when we awoke.
We were halted before reaching the line of battle, by Major Mason, one of Gen. Lee’s staff officers, and he called for one Capt. two Serg’s two Corporals and 30 private soldiers.
I was one of the private soldiers called out and Capt. Jas. Breckinridge was the commissioned officer called out. Major Mason took us then three or four miles out in the direction of Harrisburg, Penn. Major Mason then told Capt. Breckinridge to send a reliable soldier to an elevated point near by that overlooked the Harrisburg road for about a mile.
Capt. Breckinridge told me to go and gave me paper and pencil to keep an account of the enemy’s regimental flags, and pieces of artillery that passed the road. There were lookouts stationed on my right and left to guard me as I was lying flat and watching the enemy’s movement, so could not watch myself.
I began my watching about 9 o’clock and was to leave my post at noon. It was a sweltering day, a real type of July and you may imagine how sleepy I got lying flat in that clover field and the rays of the sun just pouring on me. You see, I’d only had one night’s sleep since June 20, and had been marching day and night and this was July 3. My same old watch that I’d carried when I waded the Rappahannock, was still keeping good time and you may know I was glad when it indicated 12 o’clock.
When I went back to the Capt. and gave him the account of what I’d seen he sent it by a courier right on to Gen. Lee. I remember I counted 100 regimental flags and 70 pieces of artillery. Lee had men put on all the roads like this, so he’d have a knowledge of the size of the army he’d have to fight.
When I got back to the Capt. and gave him the paper, I was as wet with perspiration, as if I’d been dipped in the creek. I was so exhausted from hunger and general fatigue that I soon fell asleep and slept for an hour or so, the cannons firing all the time. At one when the general charge was made, I awoke though.
Soon we saw a skirmish line coming and they began firing on us, but we showed a bold front and they not knowing how many there were of us, as there were some buildings near and we were scattered around and they soon stopped firing on us. Looking south, we could see the smoke from the artillery and musketry, boiling up like a volcano. This elevated position gave us a fine view of the surrounding country. The roar of artillery was like a continuous peal of thunder. Our regiment was about a mile from where I was with the few men who had been sent out with me and in fact our skirmish extended on to us, but the main part of our regiment was heavily engaged, but were driven back by Kilpatrick’s regiment. They were fighting, without having had any food all day and the day before and the horses the same, only what they ate dragging us around the night before. The whole regiment had fared just as I had for the last two weeks and were broken down completely.
The hottest of the battle was fully two miles from where I was stationed. As I hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast Sat. morning and this was Sunday eve, I told Capt. Breckinridge I was going to risk my life and go to a brick house about 200 yards in front of our skirmish line and try to get something to eat. I watched and kept the house between me and the enemy’s skirmish line and went in at the window and down in the basement, I found a boiled shoulder of bacon, several loaves of bread and all the apple butter and marmalade I could carry and a lot of dutch cheese. The family had left on account of the battle, so I took my time to get plenty and made three trips and took enough back to feed all 35 of the men who had been sent out with me.
After emptying the crocks we put them on the fence back of the house and wrote a note to the lady of the house and put with the crocks, thanking her for her kindness. Her provisions had certainly been a friend in time of need.
The firing of the enemy stopped for a little while and we thought our forces had gained the victory, but when Pickett made his charge the firing began anew and as we hadn’t been ordered to advance, we soon knew that we had lost the day. We could not see the hottest of the battle, only the awful smoke. I’ll never forget that. Major Mason took us back to Gen. Lee’s headquarters about nightfall and we slept in the yard that night. About 10 o’clock it began raining and rained all night. Shortly after daybreak Monday morning, Major Mason gave us something for breakfast and Gen. Lee sent us to Gen. Meade’s headquarters under a flag of truce to get permission to bury our dead. So I had the privilege of sitting with Gen’s Lee and Meade at their respective headquarters the morning of July 4th 63. When Major Mason presented the dispatch to Gen. Meade, he immediately sent about 30 of his men with a dispatch back to Lee under a flag of truce.
About 60 of the U. S. Regulars took us all over the battle field and explained the position of the armies that fought the day before. We went to the hospitals where they had been amputating limbs and at some of them a six horse wagon could have been loaded with legs and arms. We passed a half doz. or more of these field hospitals. There were a doz. or more doctors at each of them. The dead men were every where to be seen, of course. It looked more like fields of flax spread out to dry than any thing I’d seen before. The most of the confederates had been gathered up ready for burial. There were several ten acre fields with men lying just as thick as they could lay. We saw them digging the graves several feet deep and a blanket was spread down and four men laid on it, then another blanket spread over them. The dirt from the next grave was filled on this one and so on until the whole line was buried. I learned afterward that the hurried dispatch Gen. Meade sent back to Gen. Lee, was to send men to mark the graves of the dead, but that he would have them buried. The regulars did not take us over the portion of the battle field occupied by the Yankees. We could see the fields strewn with the dead but we didn’t ride over the ground like we did among our own men. I guess they didn’t want us to see how many they had lost. The men were very nice and kind to us though. They explained how the dreadful slaughter of Pickett’s men occurred. His columns had been thinned out so much by the artillery and heavy firing they were subject to in crossing the low ground coming up to the foot of Cemetery Ridge, and he gave the order to close to the left, expecting Gen. Heath’s division to also close to the left and support him. But Heath couldn’t see the move Pickett made as his men were in a piece of timber and the trees being in full leaf, the view was obstructed. They advanced slowly and when Pickett charged the breastworks, Heath’s division was too far in the rear to aid him. There was a gap of about 700 yds. left between Pickett’s and Heath’s division and Gen. Warren, who was in front of Heath’s division saw the gap, marched a part of his men to the front and right faced and marched in behind Pickett and captured a part of his men, who had already taken the breastworks.
When Pickett saw Warren’s move and knew that Heath couldn’t support him to recapture the breastworks, he was compelled to retreat. Then was when the terrible slaughter occurred, as Pickett’s men retreated under the heavy fire from the artillery they had once taken, but was unable to hold.
The men had to march very nearly two miles in the retreat, in full view of the enemy’s artillery, before they reached the timber, which served as a protection. If Heath had brought his men up as Pickett expected, it would only have caused a heavier slaughter, because I saw the tents of a number of lines of battle the next day, that the regulars told us were right there to support the breastworks, that Pickett couldn’t see when he was making the charge. He never could have held the position, against such heavy forces.
We went right over the summit of Cemetery Ridge, by the Peach Orchard and High Water Mark. It was all a dismal sight as it was raining steadily until about 12 o’clock, but the work of caring for the wounded and burying the dead was being carried on as rapidly as it was possible. The regulars took us on to our outpost and we bade them farewell, never to meet again. Major Mason knew some of the men personally, so we enjoyed their kindness very much. Major Mason took us back to Lee’s headquarters and Gen. Lee released us and sent us on back to our command.
In going back to our command, we passed by the remnant of Pickett’s gallant division. It didn’t look to be more than a regiment. The first man I recognized was my brother-in-law, Lieut. John Dill, who is still living. I asked him how many they had lost and his reply was: “We have lost all.” He got in sight of the breastworks, he said, before they had to retreat. He was wounded by the explosion of a shell.
As all of the Botetourt Infantry was in Pickett’s division, I soon found other men that I knew. The men of the Fincastle Rifles had the same sad story to tell, of the dreadful loss of their comrades. The descendants of the Botetourt Infantrymen can always be proud of the charge their ancestors made and glad they did not see the disconsolate, depressed remnant I saw that morning after the battle. It was the saddest sight, I think, I ever witnessed. You know the missing men were from my own county, and so many were my acquaintances. I talked to some of the gallant men of the Blue Ridge Rifles, Buchanan Rifles, also some of the men who composed Capt. Gilmer Breckinridge’s company, then commanded by Capt. Kelly.
Capt. Breckinridge raised this Co. at the beginning of the war and his father furnished uniforms for the men. Some of the men of Capt. Spessard’s Co. of Craig Co., told me of Nat Wilson’s death. He was killed just as he crossed the breastworks. He was raised in Fincastle and was one of my schoolmates.
We reached our command on the evening of the 4th. I found the regiment had lost heavily, but our company had not suffered so much. Six of our Co., beside myself, that only numbered 64, when we went to Gettysburg, were sent out on this lookout expedition. The most gloomy time of my life, I think, was from that eve until we started back to Va. the next day. Lee was whipped, but unconquered. Meade was slow in following us up.
The infantry and artillery moved in front and the extreme rear, was brought up by the cavalry, as usual.
The business of the cavalry was to fortify behind us and protect our men in front. We took wheat shocks and piled them up high and threw dirt on them and when the advance guards of the enemy would see our fortifications, they would slack in their movements. They would bring up their artillery and open fire on us often and we would retreat to other fortifications built by cavalry ahead of us and so on. Sometimes we would have to stop in the open field and fight the enemy. Sam Riley was killed in one of these engagements, while we were still in Penn.
George Hayth, “Flud” we all called him, was mortally wounded near Boonesboro and died at Winchester, about ten days later. Alonzo Rineheart was shot through the hand at the same time “Flud” was wounded, in one of these encounters, trying to drive the enemy back.
We struck the Potomac near Williamsport and learned there that our wagon train had been captured and about 15 men from my Co. were captured, also. They were acting as guards for the wagon train.
Some of the cavalry was ordered to go to the front to guard the pontoon bridge, that Lee had used crossing the Potomac going into Maryland, but before we got there we learned that the bridge had been destroyed but we went on to where the bridge had been.
While there I saw a lot of the wounded men, who were able to ride crossing the river. It was very deep and at one time I saw about 30 men go into the river and the horses got confused and threw their riders and only 15 passed over safely. Some of the horses came back on the Maryland side while others went across without a rider. These horses were just broken down horses that the men had picked up along the road and some of the men were riding without saddle or bridle, just a rope or strap tied around the horses neck. There were more wounded than we had wagons or ambulances to carry them and those least wounded were walking on ahead trying to escape the enemy and get back to Va., so picked up the horses as they could. The citizens told us that the wounded men had been crossing like that for a day or more, so no doubt many a poor fellow had a watery grave, in this last effort to reach his home state again.
We remained at Williamsport, until the whole army arrived. We had been sent ahead to guard the fords, which we did and fortified at several places. When they arrived, the river had run down considerably and the infantry and artillery passed over first and we again brought up the rear. After we had crossed we found that Gen. Pettigrew with his division had been left. I never knew why. And the enemy attacked him and he was killed, but not many of his men were lost. Our batteries opened fire from the Va. side and protected Pettigrew’s men and held the enemy in check until they could cross the river and get with us.
We continued to retreat until we reached Winchester where we went into camp for a few days and got a little much needed rest. A good many supplies had been shipped to the army and we found them when we arrived. A great many were not present to receive the boxes from home. They had answered the last roll call and were numbered with the slain.
Some of the Yankees had crossed the Potomac between Harper’s Ferry and Winchester and attacked us at Sheppherdstown. When we went into the battle, Co. C. had only 13 men left of our 64 that went into Penn. Some had been killed and the others captured. The pickets were driven in about 12 o’clock by Gen. Kilpatrick’s men and a skirmish line was sent out to bring on the attack. There were a hundred or more of us in the skirmish line and the 13 men, who composed Co. C, 2nd Va. Cavalry were among them.
In marching toward the enemy a large sink hole was right in our pathway and instead of going through the hole and keeping 8 ft. apart which was our usual distance in skirmish lines, some of the boys went around the hole and 6 or 8 of them were huddled right together. The enemy was behind a rock fence on the summit of a hill, which was a grave yard and when they saw these men together, they fired among them and wounded five, two of them mortally.
We couldn’t get nearer than about 500 yds. to the rock fence, as the enemy was firing grape and cannister among us so we had to lie down behind a rail fence to protect ourselves. I was lying in a fence corner and a cannon ball hit the fence stake on the opposite side of the fence from me and cut the stake off and tore it out of the ground and took it whizzing over me. It shook me up, I’ll tell you, but didn’t wound me. Had it struck the stake my head was against I would not have been left to tell the tale.
We couldn’t damage them much from where we were so we were ordered to the left into a piece of timber and remained there 10 or 15 minutes and were then ordered to charge in another direction and went through an old field and came across five pieces of artillery, that our men had abandoned on account of the heavy firing from behind that stone fence. Several of the gunners were lying there dead and after we passed the guns our gunners came back and opened heavy fire over our heads, at the men on the top of the hill.
As Gen. Young had gotten in position on our right, We were ordered to advance and came by a house that we found to be full of Yankee soldiers. We came across several men behind a corn crib and they laid down and shot under the crib at our feet, but missed us, and before they could reload their guns, we ran around the crib and they ran to the house and into the basement. We followed at their heels, and to our great surprise, there were about 50 men in the basement, instead of our 3 or 4. We ordered them to surrender, which they did at once. Our line of battle had gotten up by that time and we sent the prisoners to the rear.
We crossed a little ravine up a slope into a wheat field and the enemy opened such a heavy fire, that we were compelled to take refuge behind rocks, wheat shocks, or anything we could. Every man, though, that got behind a wheat shock, was killed. Capt. Graves and I fell down behind a large lime stone rock and a shell struck in the ground about 20 feet from us and ploughed right along to our rock and exploded. It threw dirt all over us, but didn’t hurt us at all.
Just at that time, I looked to the rear and saw J. E. Stewart, Wade Hampton and Fitz Hugh Lee coming right up the ravine and would soon have been in full view of the men at the rock fence and grave yard. I ran down and explained the situation to them. They remained there a few minutes planning what to do, and Hampton decided to have Gen. Young’s men come up in line with Fitz Lee’s men, and make a desperate effort to take the grave yard.
Hampton sent a courier to Young, and in a few minutes his men did charge, but they were mowed down so rapidly that they didn’t get near up to our line until they were compelled to fall back. We had to keep our hidden positions until night-fall and then retreat.
When we got back I found that only six of our 13 in my company remained unharmed. Ben Peck, a cousin of mine, was mortally wounded, only lived a few days. John Deisher also died in a few days. The other 5 recovered, but were unfit for service for awhile.
We spent the night in camp and the next morning our pickets found that Kilpatrick had withdrawn his forces in the night and gone back toward the Potomac. We remained at this encampment until the next eve, when we had a dress parade in an oats field nearby.
Dress parades were held every eve in each regiment. The orders for the next day were always read out and each orderly Sergeant had to report if any of his men were absent “without leave.” When the dress parade was over the regiment was turned over to the quarter master, and he gave orders for each man to get four bundles of oats to feed our horses that night and the next morning.
Our Co. was on the extreme right and Co. K. was on the extreme left of regiment. Each Co. had one of the contrariest men the world ever knew. We had all said if either of them ever drowned we would fish up the stream for them. Instead of getting the oats near by, these men started off in a sweeping gallop to the opposite sides of the field and ran together about the center of the field. We heard a report like that of a gun and immediately, another; the first proved to be the horses heads coming together and then the men’s. All four fell over dead, as we all thought, at first. We rushed to them and not a sign of life could be seen. Some one hastened for Dr. Shackleford and as he had no restoratives with him, except hartshorn, he used that, and we soon found we had two live men alright. They felt up for the ground though. They then used the hartshorn on the horses and they soon revived also. The crowd had gathered by that time and all had a hearty laugh and gave them three cheers for the bay windows they carried on their heads.
After going into camp that night in a piece of woods, we hitched our horses and some of the boys went in search of water back in the open field. A fellow by the name of Bob Luckadoo, had gone off about 30 or 40 yards from the majority of us and laid down, and these boys coming back from hunting water, accidently stepped on the man. He got very mad and cursed and the boys apologized and told him they could not see him in the dark. He finally accepted their apology, but the boys found out what a “touch-me-not” he was, so told it as soon as they got into camp. We decided to pass by and stumble over him again in going for water. The next boys did so, and he shouted and cursed them and they pretended to be so surprised at his being there and began to apologize. He said: “What in the hell is the use to apologize, when you’ve killed me?” He laid down again, though, and presently another boy stumbled over him and he jumped up and called to the bugler as loud as he could yell: “Casey! Casey! Just turn out the whole damned bloody 2nd Cavalry and let them march over me and maybe they will be satisfied.” The regiment enjoyed the prank greatly and we often laugh about it yet.
We moved camp the next day and his horse got lame and as we would pass every boy would ask him what was the matter with it. He got so mad he told us it was none of our d——d business. Sometimes 3 or 4 would be asking him at once. He finally got so mad he cursed us until you could have heard him a mile, I think. We camped the next night in a dewberry field.
As soon as day broke I got up and ate a good breakfast of dewberries. We soon found that there were about a dozen Yankees on the hill, just above us and they fired on us a few times, but over shot us. Col. Munford ordered the bugle to be blown, which was a signal for us to mount. We were formed in line and by that time the fog had raised so that we could see the men on the hill. He wanted some one to try to ascertain who they were and why they were there. I told him I’d go on the hill just opposite, where we could see better, if some one would go with me. Another man volunteered and I told him to come up from one side and I’d go up from the other and we could meet on the top. When I went around on my side of the hill and got to the top the other volunteer wasn’t there. I was in sight of the men on the other hill and about 200 yards from them I could see that there were 8 men on horseback and there were two horses with out riders. I was riding my horse that I’d captured in the spring. I shouted to them and bade them “Good Morning” and asked them to whose command they belonged and they answered “Gen. Rosser’s”.
They asked me to come up to where they were, but I told two of them to come down to me. They insisted on my coming but I told them there were more of them and for two of them to come to me. Just then two men in some sassafras bushes about 50 yds. from me fired at me and my horse whurled so suddenly, that I heard the whiz of both bullets right by my head. I fell over on my horse to keep her between me and the men. She almost flew back in the direction from which we had come. The man who started with me never went to the top of the hill, for he could see the Yankees before I could and he soon started back, but saw me fall over on my horse and reported me killed before I could get back. The Col. then with drew the men and made preparation for an attack; but it never was brought on. There were a few stray shots all day, but didn’t amount to any thing among our men. Each side seemed afraid to attack the other, as they couldn’t ascertain the strength of the opposing forces.
While we were recuperating and maneuvering around one evening at dress parade an invitation was read out, that a Mrs. Lucas in the neighborhood had given an invitation to all the Burdens, Sheppards and Pecks to attend a dining at her home. The invitation was read all through Lee’s army. A Lieutenant by the name of Burten from Bedford Co. and I were the only ones who went. We had to go about six miles. She lived at a fine farm house and the porch was crowded with guests. Mrs. Lucas and her daughter came out to meet us and told us not to tell our names until she guessed who we were. She looked at the Lieut. first and said she couldn’t see the favor of any of the Burdens, Sheppards or Pecks. I told her how he spelled his name and we soon found it was different from the name she was hunting. She told us to get down and come in anyway; she was glad we had come, etc., if the name was a little different. I told her she had slighted me, that she hadn’t guessed who I was yet. She said: “Oh! Come on, I know you by the favor. I’ll show you pictures of your relations for two generations.”
She introduced the Lieut. to the ladies and said she would introduce me a little later. She took me in and showed me a life-size portrait of her grandfather Jacob Peck, who was born and raised near Fincastle, and was my great uncle. She knew me by the picture, she said. She then took me back and introduced me to the guests. Her husband came in, and to my astonishment, I recognized him as the same Dr. Lucas that we had so much fun over when we were in prison at Washington about four months before. I laughed and called him the fresh fish and he enjoyed anew our initiating we had for these witnesses that were sent to Washington. He said he recognized me on first sight. Lieut. Burten went back that eve, but as I had a three days’ furlough, I stayed until the next evening. Dr Lucas sent regards to the other seven men who spent the time with us at Washington.
After a few days we crossed the Blue Ridge and went back into Culpepper Co., near the same place from which we had made our start to Gettysburg. We rested and recuperated at this place a few days and the first disturbance was one day when half of our division of cavalry was out letting the horses graze, when the pickets came in and said that Kilpatrick was crossing the Rappahannock. The bugle sounded, a signal to saddle and make ready for movement. Our horses all being out and half of the men, naturally we had a considerable stampede before the men could get back and we could all make ready. By our delay Kilpatrick succeeded in getting about all of his men over.
We formed our line of battle and aimed to make a cavalry charge, but could not on account of the timber and underbrush. Just as we were dismounting a young man by the name of Preston, who had come to our regiment the day before, was shot in the neck and fell dead. We charged them on foot and drove them across the river, capturing a few of their men and having a few wounded and killed. Some of our slow fellows who didn’t get up with us in time for the pursuit, hitched their horses at a straw stack and were smoking and set the stack on fire, and burned it and one of the horses.
A few days later while out on a scouting expedition, and some of our men were left behind the majority of the command, having their horses shod, Kilpatrick’s men came on them and would have captured them all, but for Lieut. Ed. Hayth. He hurriedly formed them in line, as soon as he saw the enemy approaching and charged them and drove them back. Hayth then hurried on and overtook us and informed us of the enemy’s advance, so we took our position behind a rock fence. When Kilpatrick’s men advanced they came up through a corn field, so we had to shoot considerably at random and their firing on us was about the same way. One of our men by the name of Chas. Cross, from Lynchburg, was accidently killed by one of our pieces of artillery, and Capt. Breckinridge sent word back to the gunners that they must aim higher, and just as the messenger, William Craddock, got to where young Cross was killed, he was shot by the Yankees and died that night.
These were the only two men we lost. We left the fence and charged the enemy and drove them back, but didn’t capture any of them.
The next we heard of the enemy was that Gen. Meade was concentrating his forces in Culpepper Co., preparing to advance on Richmond. Gen. Lee then moved with his army toward Culpepper, C. H., to check Meade. He sent Stewart’s cavalry to cross the Rapidan river at Raccoon Ford, to drive the enemy back.
When we crossed the river the enemy opened fire on us with three or four pieces of artillery and the first ball that was fired cut Sergeant McCabe’s leg off and the ball went on through his horse and killed it instantly. We soon saw that our only chance was to dismount and charge the enemy on foot. When we got near the artillery they began to fall back and never halted until they got to Stevensburg, about two miles distant. Here they opened fire on us again and we laid down in a mill race, to get out of range and sight of the enemy. I was very warm, having walked the two miles in double quick time and had to lie in that spring water for about three hours until reinforcements arrived. When the infantry got within about 200 yards we were ordered to charge the artillery, which we did, but when they saw our reinforcements coming they began retreating again to Brandy Station. We followed them expecting them to make a stand again but they did not. They continued to retreat until they joined the main army. We camped near Brandy Station that night, and the next morning I was unable for service. My rest in that spring water had given me a case of congestion of the liver. K. B. Stoner was sent to take me back to Orange C. H., I wasn’t able to go alone.
After going a couple of miles a citizen told us of a near way by going through his corn field and on out in a cross road, that led to the main road. Just after getting into the corn field I was riding a little ahead while Stoner laid up the fence and to my great surprise one of Gen. Pleasenton’s couriers came galloping up. I drew my pistol and ordered him to surrender, which he did without a word. When we got through the field and to the next house, the man of the house told us it wasn’t safe to go farther because he had seen a scouting party go that way. He told us another near route back to Lee’s headquarters.
We arrived there in due time and stayed all night and they told us where to find the command. We at last reached them and turned our prisoner over to the provost guard, and made a second start for Orange C. H. I hadn’t eaten anything for a couple of days and would get so sick every few miles that I’d have to get off and lie on the ground awhile and try it again. After two days riding and resting along, we reached camp and you may know I was glad to get back. I was sick for a week or so and every thing remained quiet for some time.
This was nearing fall and we soon began fixing up winter quarters. We tented in a heavy piece of timber and built a wind brake back of the encampment. We had built log huts for winter quarters before this, but just lived in our tents the winter of ’63, as we were expecting to have to move at any time. Nothing occurred during the winter to break our rest. We kept up picket duty, of course, and had fairly good rations, principally corn bread and pork with some beef. The country had been so over-run that we couldn’t expect to fare as well as we had previously.
We broke camp the early part of march and moved to Fredericksburg. The evening we started, after we had saddled up, we were waiting for further orders and about half of the boys lay down by the wind brake and went to sleep. The horses were all hitched around, just where we had kept them all winter. Some of the boys thought things were too quiet, so they slipped around and set fire to the dry pine brush of the wind brake, and such a scare as the fellows had when they waked up. The men jumped and some ran off without their guns or pistols, and every little while the fire would burn over one and it would fire away. The horses then got scared and we had a general awakening. Some of the boys used Sunday School words, lavishly, I’ll tell you. If they could only catch the fellow who set the brush, was the cry; but catching him was the thing. Every fellow was perfectly innocent, of course.
At about 8 o’clock at night we had orders to march toward Fredericksburg. As the roads were bad, the wagons made poor time, so we didn’t get there until the next day.
As soon as we arrived a detail was made from all the companies to send men down to help draw a seine. I got permission to ride about some and took one of the roads made by the infantry the year before, when the battle was fought there. I heard a man cursing at the top of his voice and I went to him and his wagon had upset with a load of fish. I helped him turn his wagon back and to reload his fish and he was very grateful for my help, so much so, that he gave me a dozen fine hickory shad. I strung my fish up and hung them to my saddle and started on toward the fishing, and directly I heard my man yelling and cursing and I rode back to find his wagon upset again and every fish on the ground. I helped him load up again and he gave me another doz. My hands and clothes were considerably soiled by this time, so I decided to go on back with him. He was going to the camp with the fish, so I helped him on out of the woods. Every time the wagon would strike the roots of the trees the fish would slip first to one side of the bed and then the other and by both of holding and watching we kept them from upsetting the wagon again. When I got back our quarter-master had issued fish to the men, so with my extra 2 dozen, we had a fish feast.