Reminiscencies of a Confederate soldier of Co. C, 2nd Va. Cavalry

We remained at that camp until the morning of the 4th of May, when we tore down our tents and started to Spottsylvania C. H. When we got there we were ordered out to take a place near Todd’s Tavern, where we were ordered to fortify.

In a few hours Gen. Sedgwick, with the 19th army corps marched against us. A desperate fight ensued. We fought from behind our log fortifications; he charged again and again during the whole day, but we continued driving him back. Our loss was light, as we were well fortified, but the ground over which they charged was left blue with their slain. Gen. Ulysses Grant had already been appointed commander-in-chief of the Yankee forces and was now in Spottsylvania Co. His motto was “never to give up,” so he reinforced Sedgwick the next day with another army corps, which meant 30,000 or 40,000 men. The first day I receipted for 100 rounds of ammunition and shot it all and the next day for 115 and used all that the 2nd day. The others all did about the same. They had removed the dead during the night and charged over the same ground all of the second day. We held our same position behind the fortifications and lost very few men, but the ground in front of us was blue with the poor boys in blue, again by night fall. We left a strong force at the fortifications during the night, but a part of us went into camp near by.

We went back to our position in the morning of the 3rd day and the Yankees had moved their dead, but were reinforced and ready to charge us again and continued until about the middle of the day. One of our Bedford boys “Lil” Johnson, looked over the fortifications and was shot through the head and killed instantly. Another fellow Creed Hubbard was killed by a bullet passing through the fortifications. Chas. Price, Newt. Shaver and I were side by side as we had been for three days firing at the enemy, when another bullet came through the fortifications and struck Newt. in the breast and he fell dead, as we thought. I put my hand into his bosom to see if we could stop the bullet wound from bleeding and found there wasn’t a particle of blood. He had just been stunned so we soon revived him with water, and just then one of our couriers came in sight and was killed. Some one ran up to him and found a dispatch in his hand ordering us to fall back. Our breastworks had caught on fire at the extreme ends of our line and our men had already been ordered back, but we were the last to receive the order.

The enemy was pressing harder, of course, and just as we started back, after our breastworks had caught on fire, Chas. Price took Newt’s gun to carry and I took his arm to help him, as he was still weak from the shock and a bullet struck him in the arm, that was locked in mine. We had to leave our dead men at the breastworks to burn. I only saw the two right near me, in fact they were about 3rd or 4th man from me, but of course, there were others all along the line. Still our loss was very meager, compared to the enemy. We fell back until we reached Gen. Lomax’s breastworks. When we crossed over and laid down, I told Newt I wanted to find out why that first ball that struck him didn’t enter his body and I asked him what he had in his pocket. He said he had the bible that his mother gave him, when he left home. I looked and found the bullet more than half way through the little bible. So it had saved his life.

I turned him over to the ambulance corps to be cared for. The enemy’s whole line of battle followed us, but only the sharpshooters came in sight. We waited for the line to appear to open fire, but as they didn’t, Col. Munford ordered our sharpshooters to re-cross the breastworks and charge the enemy who was hiding behind trees and firing occasionally.

Edward Brugh, of Co. C., 2nd Va. Cavalry, who was commanding us, ordered us to advance and try to keep the trees between us and the enemy as much as possible. Just as I got to a large tree a man behind it fired at Brugh who was behind another tree to my right, and shot him through the lung. I ran around the tree expecting to get him, but he had dodged behind another tree and I didn’t get a shot at him. Lieut. Hayth was put in Brugh’s stead and we followed on and drove them nearly to our breastworks that had been burned. I was in the front line and just as we were ordered to halt, I saw a Yankee officer lying dead, as I thought, with his head between two small shrubs. I went to him and saw that he was shot through the head and thought from his appearance that he might have money, so I examined his pockets and found none, but found a splendid silver watch. One of Co. K’s men was with me and he said: “Peck, I am going to take his boots, he’ll never need them again.” Just as he aimed to pull one off, the man kicked him and sent him a couple of somersaults. I looked and saw that our men had gotten some distance back toward our breastworks, so we started back in double quick time, I’ll tell you.

The enemy’s skirmish line began firing on us and we ran at full speed. I carried the watch in my hand, so if I was shot I could throw it away. I didn’t want them to kill or capture me with a dead Yankee’s property on my person. We didn’t overtake our men until we crossed the breastworks, and we crossed right where Capt. James Breckinridge was and laid down by his side. He said to me: “The boys thought you were either killed or captured as you didn’t get back with them.” I then showed him the watch and told him of my hunting for money and finding it. Capt. B. took the watch and looked at it and saw that it belonged to Col. E. L. Sindler, of the 1st Va. U. S. Cavalry. Col. Munford said he knew the man well; had gone to school with him at West Point, and had been his class-mate and graduated with him. Capt. B. wanted to trade me a gold watch for it, and I sent the gold watch home, and he carried Col. Sindler’s watch until he was killed at the battle of Five Forks.

It wasn’t long until night-fall, so the enemy let us remain in camp until morning. We arose early and the infantry had arrived by this time, and we fortified, expecting them to do the fighting and we could look on. The infantry had been in camp nearer Richmond and didn’t get to us in time to share our three days fight.

Gen. Lee ordered us out near where our breastworks had been burned, to bring on the fight, but before we got that far the enemy, hiding in the timber, fired on us and killed Capt. Breckinridge’s horse, known to us as “Bull Locust.” We retreated so they would come out in the field and follow us nearer to the breastworks where we could have a chance at them and the infantry opened fire on them. Just at this time Col. Munford received a dispatch from Gen. J. E. B. Stewart, that Sheridan, who had been fighting in the southwest was advancing on Richmond with 15,000 men and 90 pieces of artillery, principally parot guns. Munford ordered us to follow him in a gallop, which we did.

We halted after galloping about twelve miles, when we were nearing Sheridan’s rear. He was in a country where a great deal of broom sage grew and to keep us from overtaking him he had fired the country for miles. We rushed right through the fire, singing our eye-brows and our horses manes and tails, but succeeded in coming on his rear and also getting a portion of our army in front of him at a place near Beaver Dam.

As Sheridan had so much larger force of men and equipments than Stewart, we had to give way at several points, to protect ourselves, but when we got to Yellow Tavern, about 9 miles from Richmond, Stewart determined to make a stand and save Richmond. Stewart rode in front of his line and told us that Richmond’s destiny lay at our hands; that in three more miles Sheridan could reach the Heights from which he could throw Greek fire from the parot guns and shell the town. Richmond houses were principally covered with shingle roofing at that time and not so many brick buildings, and as the parot guns could throw a shell 6 miles, and when it struck it would explode and throw fire in every direction, it would have been an easy and short take to have set it all on fire. We had had some experience with Greek fire and knew what it was to extinguish it. It was a very dry time, too, but a cloud arose and just as the battle began the cloud reached us and a dreadful storm followed. The lightning and cannonading were so terrific, that sometimes we couldn’t tell the flash of one from the other. The rain was just pouring and often the ammunition would get so wet, as we were loading our guns, that they wouldn’t fire.

The Penn. cavalry made a desperate charge and took three of Stewart’s artillery guns. Stewart, with his 1st Va. regiment, the one that he had gone out with, aimed to retake the guns, and one of the Penn. cavalry, who had gotten out into our lines before falling back and saw Stewart and recognized him, I suppose, fired and mortally wounded him. We didn’t get the guns but we held Sheridan back and saved Richmond. The battle only lasted something more than an hour, but in that short time we had lost one of our bravest and best men, Gen. J. E. Stewart.

We fought nearly the whole time in a down-pour of rain and the loss was heavy on both sides, but we felt the loss of our leader more than all of the privates, at this time, when the enemy was doubling in on us from all sides.

Sheridan was not easily defeated, we only spoiled one plan for him to make another to reach Richmond; that was to go down and cross the Chickahominy at Meadow Bridge. He began that movement as he fell back from Yellow Tavern.

Our pickets that evening and night found that he was moving in that direction, so we were ordered to move down and form a line of battle south of Meadow Bridge. The Chickahominy was very much swollen by the rain the day before and it was out over the swamps about waist deep on a man.

We were right at the bank of the river and saw so many large turtles, watching for bugs or anything that might be floated. We soon looked out across the river that had spread a mile or more over the swamp, and saw a number of objects that looked no larger than many of the turtles, advancing in regular line.

I told the boys that I believed that was Yankees wading in the water and trying to make us believe they were turtles. The other boys all thought they were turtles, though.

I was right in the road that crossed the bridge and had a good view, and felt sure they were men we saw and not turtles. So I called to Lieut. McGruder to come down and investigate the matter. He hadn’t much more than reached me, before these men in the water opened fire on us and killed McGruder while talking to me.

The Yankees were armed with Spencer rifles and it made no difference how wet they got the water couldn’t penetrate the powder. They had stooped down until only their heads were above water, where it wasn’t deep enough to hide them, and when they were yet about fifty yards out from the river in the swamp timber, they fired on us, killing several men of our skirmish line and the Lieut.

We were ordered to fall back over the crest of a little hill south of us, in double quick time. We had a very brave Irish Sergeant, who said he’d never run, and as we were going back in double quick time, the Capt. said to him:

“Paddy, I thought you’d never run.”

He said: “Ah, Capt. It is shust this way. Those d——d rascals have played turtle on us and it is better for a fellow to be a coward for a few minutes, than a corpse for the rest of his life. Let the d——d rascals come out of the water loike min, and I’ll foight them until hell freezes over and thin I’ll foight thim on the ice.”

We fell back to our regular line of battle and artillery and when they came out of the water we rushed up to the top of the hill with our artillery and charged them, driving them back through the river with heavy slaughter.

Gen. Stewart, who had been taken to his brother-in-law’s home in Richmond, and was gradually growing worse, heard the cannonading and asked what it meant. They told him that Sheridan was aiming to cross at Meadow Bridge, and that Fitz Lee and Wade Hampton were holding the ford. Stewart’s reply was: “If Fitz Lee is there with the Va. cavalry, Richmond is safe.” These were the last words he spoke, that any one could understand. I’ll tell you it did our sad hearts good to know that the man we had fought with that long, had that confidence in us and that we could be among his last thoughts.

At about two o’clock the water had run down considerably, and some of us crossed to see if we could locate Sheridan’s movements. Scouting parties were sent in every direction and we soon found that he had retreated in the direction of the White House, on the York River.

While we were fighting Sheridan, R. E. Lee was having some of the hardest fighting they had ever had. He was opposing Grant at Bloody Angle and other points near. It was at Bloody Angle that Lee’s men ordered him to the rear and they would go to the front. This he did, and they did go to the front and straightened the line of the angle.

We were out scouting for several days and finding that Sheridan was moving toward Washington, we returned and joined the command and went to protect R. E. Lee’s right flank, when Grant was making his left flank movement to get between Lee and Richmond. We met the enemy at a place called Jack’s Shop and as we had no fortifications, began to prepare immediately. Capt. James Breckinridge sent Wash Conode and myself to the wagon train, that was a few miles in the rear, to get ammunition for the regiment. When we got back, they had decided not to fortify at that place, but had moved to another piece of woods and had left a man to tell us where to go. For some reason, he wasn’t there and we went up within thirty or forty yards of what we thought was our regiment, but found it was the Yankee infantry. When I found we’d struck the Yankees I told Conode to fall flat on his horse and follow me. I started out of the woods and the Yankees began firing on us and Conode surrendered right there, with his ammunition. I kept riding as hard as I could go down a ravine below the infantry and I thought they would be apt to over shoot me, as I was going down a hill. They fired on me fearfully for a half mile or more, but as usual not a bullet struck me or my horse. When I got to the end of the ravine and out of the range of the line of Yankees, I found the man that had been left to tell us where to go with the ammunition. I told him I’d lost the man and sack of ammunition, by his not staying at his post and had run one of the narrowest risks of my life. I guess fully a thousand shots was fired at me, but it is hard to shoot a man galloping down hill.

When I got to the command, they had commenced fortifying at a place that one of R. E. Lee’s engineers had located. We held this position and kept the Yankee infantry back, until our infantry arrived that eve and the next day a big battle occurred between the two forces of infantry.

We, of the cavalry had been sent still farther on Lee’s right to prevent Grant’s movement again. About that time Gen. Custer was making a raid toward the James River to destroy the canal, thereby cutting off a large source of supplies. Gen. Wade Hampton was sent to check him and we rode all night and just before day light some of us were detached to get corn for our horses. We went to a corn crib and each man put two bushels of corn on his horse, as ordered and we expected to feed as soon as we got back to the road. But instead of that, we found a man waiting to tell us that new orders had been received and that the rest of the command had gone in double quick time and for us to follow likewise.

We overtook them between daylight and sunrise near Travillian Depot. All the other fellows had let half of their corn out of their sacks, but I carried all of mine, for the horses hadn’t had anything to eat since the morning before. I didn’t think about it hurting my horse, but we all unsaddled to feed and when I went to saddle up again my horse’s back was so swollen that I couldn’t get the saddle on. She and two other horses were condemned as unfit for service and I was detached to take all three of them to the horse pasture, in Albemarle.

I started for the horse pasture at once, which was about a day’s ride. I hoped to get something to eat from citizens, as I had not eaten anything since the morning before. I soon came to a lot of led horses in a field of about ten acres. There was one man to every four horses, and other men were out fortifying and preparing to repel Custer, when he would advance. These were confederate horses belonging to Gen. Young. The man who had charge of the horses, told me it wasn’t safe for me to go farther, that no telling at just what point Custer’s men would appear. He told me to come and eat breakfast with him and remain until we could see farther. As I needed food, I of course, took his advise. We went into a house right then to get breakfast, that had already been ordered and we had just begun to eat when one of the ladies of the house came in saying there was a disturbance among the horses out there and she thought there were some men in blue among them. When we got out we saw a regiment of Yankee cavalry coming to the horses and surrounding them, and some of the Yankees were opening the fence and taking out the horses and men in the direction of where Custer’s army was stationed. They came right on to the house and captured all of us. They got out about 500 horses and one man to every four horses, of course.

Gen. Rosser, whose men hadn’t been dismounted, heard the firing and rushed down and recaptured about two thirds of us and our horses and captured some of the Yankees also. I was free then to start on my journey to the horse pasture. I hadn’t gone more than a half mile when I met a nice sorrel horse, galloping saddled and bridled, but no rider. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I caught him and took him on with me. I could hear the firing up at the depot, so I thought the Yankees would all be needed there and went on, but somewhat cautiously.

I got to the horse pasture that eve and found every thing in confusion, as they thought Custer was coming that way on his raid. I had learned before I got very far from the command that Custer had been repulsed with heavy slaughter. Julius Buford, who was our veterinary surgeon at the horse pasture, had taken all the horses to the mountain and the citizens had also, thinking Custer was coming. A Mr. Poindexter of Franklin Co. had charge of the pasture but not a horse was there.

My horse was badly swollen under the body as well as on the back, when I got there and Mr. Poindexter sent for Buford yet that night and bled the horse by lantern light. I wanted to stay with Poindexter but Mr. and Mrs. Machen insisted on my going to the house and staying with them. I did so and the next morning when I went to see about my horse, Buford had bled him again. I rode the horse that I had found and caught in the road back to the command and I found that an application had been made for a furlough for me to go home and get a good horse that I had there. The sorrel was pretty well broken down and I didn’t want to risk him, when I had a better one at home.

The day after I got back to the command the Yankees aimed to make a flank movement at Cold Harber and go up the Mechanicsville road to Richmond, only a short distance. We were ordered to meet them at Cold Harber and we had a desperate encounter. When we got there the bullets were fast raining on us, but the air was blowing from us and we couldn’t hear a sound. We couldn’t see them, but they could tell where we were moving as it was a very dry time and a cloud of dust arose as we marched. Several of our men were wounded before we dismounted. A fellow by the name of Moore was holding his head up listening and I saw him as a bullet hit him in the neck and passed between his swallow and windpipe. Caneer of Lynchburg was shot in the arm, but both recovered. We began fortifying and just as the enemy came in sight, the 57th Va. regiment came to reinforce us and they took our position and we moved farther down, to the right, still fortifying. After a while the 60th Va. relieved the 57th and they came and took our place, completing the fortifying we had started. We moved still farther to the right. We dug and shoveled dirt all night finishing our fortifications. Some would work while others slept and then they would wake up the sleepers and they’d go to work while the others slept.

The next morning the 60th regiment passed down the line and I recognized two of my nearest neighbors, at home, Harrington Jones and Albert Curd. I said hello, Albert, and he stopped very suddenly and a lantern jawed fellow, with his mouth wide open, who was walking right behind him, swallowed about six inches of Albert’s gun. He had tremendous teeth and I could hear the teeth scraping over the gun barrel. The fellow yelled out at Albert “what in the hell did you stop for?” Albert said: “Pshaw, what are you eating my gun for, didn’t you have any breakfast?” In a few hours we were ordered out to intimidate the Yankee cavalry and be ready if they made an attack, and directly we saw a horse kicking and rearing around and he came dashing across the field, right to our regiment and one of our men ran out and met him and captured horse and rider.

There was an old white rooster tied on the saddle just flopping away, so his prospective chicken roast had caused his capture. We sent him on to Richmond and ate the chicken. The very next day the treacherous horse became frightened and carried one of our men into the enemy’s lines. We cheered both men as they came and went.

We didn’t do any fighting that day but the infantry fought all day, but our men still held their position. There were thousands of men released on both sides. The Yankees charged all night as well as day for two or 3 days. The north lost, I guess, ten men to our one though, as we were well fortified and they were not. Grant seemed determined to force through our breastworks but he failed. Sheridan COULDN’T and Grant thought he WOULD. We still held our post to keep any of the enemy from getting around and a strong force of cavalry was on the left of our infantry to prevent Grant from sending any troops around that way. He was known as the old left flanker. The cavalry was not in any of the hottest of this battle, as we occupied the extreme ends of the line.

This was in July and the next March, I passed over the ground, across which the Yankees had charged and I could hardly step without tramping on the bones still in the uniforms of the blue. They had buried some in very deep gullies, just piled them and cut brush and threw some dirt over them but the rains, had by this time, washed out the bones and the land was strewn with skulls for a half mile, or more. A lot of rushes grew down in the low lands below the end of the gulley and I saw a pile of something that looked like snow. I went down to see what it was and found it was skulls piled against the rushes. I found a dentist from Appomattox Co. there getting teeth that were filled with gold. He had his haversack about full.

Just after the battle of Cold Harber, my furlough came and I started home for a horse. While I was at home Wilson made a raid toward Petersburg and Fitz Lee and Hampton met him and drove him back and captured some men and about 100 horses. As I went back to the war I passed through Bedford City and stayed all night at the same place I stayed when I first went to the war.

I found our command near Ream’s Station, not far from Petersburg. In a short time after I got there, we were called out to go to the White House on the York River. We crossed the James River on pontoon bridges, below Richmond and rode all day and night, arriving there just before day. At daylight we saw three ironclad boats in the river and as the fog cleared away one boat moved up the river and one down and turned broadside and opened fire on us, firing three or four guns at once. We moved back out of sight before they got our range, so we didn’t lose any one just then. Then we dismounted and were marched by fours up above the White House and down to the river, where we could see the enemy drilling in a piece of meadow land just below the town, called the White House. We were not ordered to charge at all, but were marched back to our horses and mounted and went a couple of miles back in the direction of Charles City C. H. and went into camp, remaining there all night.

The next morning, after eating breakfast we were ordered to mount and just then a courier came with a dispatch to Fitz Lee and he sent it on to Col. Munford who was commanding our brigade. Col. Munford sent Co. C. and D. to form a skirmish line and we were ordered to forward march. The other 8 companies followed in regular line of battle. When we had gone a short distance we came to a lot of pines about as high as a man’s head and a fence that had been through this pine field, had been torn down and the rails piled, forming a fortification. The Yankee skirmish line was lying behind this, but broke and ran, before we shot at them at all. We pursued them and when we got out of the pines, we saw them going to several buildings around a farm house.

We followed them and they took refuge in a log barn and shot at us through the cracks, but over shot us, not even wounding a man. We swung around the barn and when they saw we were going to get them, about 25 of them ran out and aimed to escape through a solid plank gate, and rushed against the gate thinking it opened out, I suppose, but it opened back against them. The foremost man couldn’t get the others back to open it, of course, and we ordered them to surrender, but they wouldn’t and began firing at us, so we had to fire at them. We killed or wounded every man. They were supporting six pieces of artillery on the hill above us, which was firing at us all the time, but overshooting us. We went up the hill to take the artillery, but before we got there, they had retreated. The only loss we sustained was by a bumshell hanging in the limbs of a tall, slender, sweet gum tree, and its weight and force took the tree right to the ground bursting the shell and striking Capt. Tibbs of Co. K. from Albermarle Co., cutting his head clear off. The first and third regiments followed the retreating artillery awhile and put a couple of negro regiments to flight, but could not overtake the artillery. We drew in all our pickets and started back toward Richmond. We traveled about 15 miles and made up fires and camped until morning, then continued our march back to Petersburg. We had left our weak horses and a few of the men at the old camp.

Everything was quiet for a few days. One evening late, we heard a terrible report and didn’t know just what to make of it, so we went down to Petersburg and stayed all night in the streets. Some remained mounted, while others dismounted, awaiting future orders. We learned when we got there that Grant had undermined our breastworks below Petersburg and had blown them up, sustaining a very heavy loss of his men. We went back to camp the next day and remained for a week or so. We had a fine time there catching eels. We practically lived on them.

We next had orders to prepare three days’ rations and march toward Richmond. We passed through Richmond and crossed the Blue Ridge at Brown’s Gap and into the Valley of Virginia. Here we found fine hay stacks, big barns, nice houses, and we thought we had struck a bonanza. Gen. John C. Breckinridge, commanding a large division of infantry and cavalry, came into the Valley just after we did. We knew something was coming off soon, but didn’t know just what.

A few days after that our pickets came in and said that Sheridan was coming up the Valley with a still larger force than we had. Our troops made a stand near Winchester, but were unable to hold it. We had no fortifications and word came to Fitz Lee’s cavalry that the 60th Va. Regiment had been captured and we were ordered out to try to recapture it. We hurried to the scene and succeeded in getting about half of them, but a Yankee cavalry Gen. marched the others off prisoners at the same time. We were placed at different positions to let the enemy know that our cavalry was present, and the infantry was left at the temporary breastworks, fighting hard. The enemy often shelled us so that we’d have to get out of sight.

We lost eight or ten commissioned officers and a number of men, but none of my company was killed that day. One of our General’s horses, a beautiful dun, had one leg shot and broken above the knee and we were ordered about that time to hurry up to the forts above Winchester and hold the enemy in check. We galloped the two or three miles and this beautiful horse kept right with the others, all the way, galloping on three legs, the broken leg would swing in and out as he galloped, but he never offered to halt. It was certainly a pitiful sight to see his courage when we knew his pain. The officer wanted some of us to shoot him, but no one had the heart to do it, so we had to leave him and I never knew what became of him. We remained at the forts until about night and the enemy not putting in its appearance, we retreated up the back road, it was called, parallel to the mountain and passed through a beautiful village, called Darksville. We camped a few miles above the town that night and continued our retreat the next day until we came to Fishers Hill. The infantry began its retreat when we did, and made a stop also. We had a considerable fight, Sheridan succeeding in driving us up the Valley.

We next halted at Columbia Furnace, but Sheridan drove us about six miles farther. In this encounter Lieut. Ed. Hayth, my cousin, was wounded and he and a lot of other men got cut off from us in some way and went up in a mountain valley. They couldn’t get back on account of Sheridan’s men being at the mouth of the valley. Tim Stevens and I got permission from Col. Munford to go across the first ridge above where Sheridan’s men were and try to find Ed. Hayth and one of Stevens relatives, who had been wounded, also. Here we learned from the citizens that the men’s wounds had been dressed and that they had left and went out after Sheridan’s men moved beyond the mouth of the valley.

They told us of a near way to get back to our command and just at the top of the ridge we stopped for dinner at a farm house. I remember two dishes they had was peach family pie and honey. Both were always very pleasing to my taste and especially so then. I bought some of the honey from the lady and took it on back to camp with me. Some of the boys detected the taste of laurel on the honey, but the lady had sweet milk to drink at her table, so I hadn’t noticed it. I wanted the boys to eat all the honey so I could take the box back with me that day to another farm house and buy more. I had a two days’ detachment and had only used one, so I thought I’d use that day foraging. The boys didn’t care to eat it all and I told them I would finish it if it killed me. Of course, I just said it jokingly, but it came very near ending very seriously. I saddled my horse and was ready to start, but began to get so sick and in a few minutes was perfectly unconscious. The boys ran for Dr. Shackleford and he sent for the doctors, from the 1-3-4-5 regiments and all pronounced my case fatal, from poison, except Dr. Drew from the 4th regiment. In my imagination, I remember, I fought the battle at Columbia Furnace, now called Bridgewater, I believe, and thought I was captured, and once that the artillery ran over me. I suffered dreadfully for hours, but regained conciousness after the middle of the day. One of my “mess mates,” Wm. B. Bowyer, who was chief of the blacksmiths of our regiment, came and stayed with me, as soon as he heard I was sick and he was the first one I recognized.

At about 2 o’clock we were ordered to move and the ambulance was sent to haul me but I wouldn’t go in it. I told them to put me on my horse and I could go better that way. Two men put me on the horse and wanted to tie me, but I told them I believed I could sit on, and to let me try it for a while any way. We started off, and strange to say, I rode the ten miles with the others alright and felt perfectly well when we reached our destination. I’ve always been fond of honey, but I’ll tell you I’m very careful to notice if there is any bitter taste about it before eating any, ever since that day.

Sheridan was called back to Winchester and Gen. Gordon suggested to Gen. Jubal A. Early that if he would give him control of the army from mid-night until mid-day he would surprise Sheridan’s army in his absence and make a big capture. Sheridan’s men were in camp at Cedar Creek and we were a few miles above them. So Gen. Gordon called out the whole army and had them ready just before daybreak. We went down to the outposts and waited for daylight to make the attack.

We attacked them and then soon began to retreat. Some of them just rushed out without shoes and in their night clothes, without guns. It was a perfect stampede, and very few guns were fired at first. After a while the artillery took a position and began firing on us and we on them, and Sheridan hearing the noise, knew his men had been attacked, and hurried to the scene. I was in the skirmish line, as usual, and saw him galloping up on his fine black horse, “Rienza.” I said to some of the boys its over with now, for yonder comes Sheridan and he’ll change things around here. I sent a courier immediately to Col. Munford, telling him and he said: “Peck must be crazy. Sheridan is at Winchester.” I told the courier, alright, Munford would soon see who was crazy. In less than 15 minutes a cheer passed all along the enemy’s lines: “Three cheers for Philip Sheridan.” Sheridan wheeled his men around and told them to charge us and they did so, recapturing all we had taken from them and capturing a great many of our men and equipments. We had to fall back up the Valley and went into camp a few miles above there. Sheridan was gradually driving us at his will, in most cases, now.

At the Massamit Mountain, he succeeded in getting his army around in front of our infantry. Gen. Fitz Lee, with the cavalry, went through a colon on the west side of the Blue Ridge Mountain and struck the road leading from Charlottesville to Waynesboro.

When we struck the road, we found that the citizens had fortified and there were about 100 armed men and boys, some of the boys only large enough to carry a gun. They were at the fortifications aiming to stop any raiding parties or the enemy from passing and going to Charlottesville.

Fitz Lee ordered us to dismount and every fourth man to hold horses and the others form into line. We advanced down toward Waynesboro, and the little boys begged so to get in line that they and the citizens also were allowed to go on in the line of battle. The enemy didn’t open fire on us until we were real near the town and then they only used artillery. Our artillery came around on the west side, by this time, and fired back at them, but they retreated through the town and formed a line farther west. We only lost five men, and that was from a shell fired by our own artillery that struck in a tree near us and exploded, killing five of our men.

We went through the town and in sight of the fortifications, but were ordered back into the village and the artillery came and did all the firing. To get out of range of the guns, while we were not firing, about 75 of us lay down in a basement where a house had been burned a year or so before, and our artillery and that of the enemy was firing over us for a while and the roar nearly deafened us. I have never yet heard out of my left ear as well as I did before. The firing stopped about nightfall and we remained there until the next morning.

When we went up to Gettysburg and burned the commissaries at Carlisle, Penn., and Thad Stevens Iron Works, and the packet boats at Seneca Falls, I told them I was bitterly opposed to setting the torch to the enemy’s property, for it meant greater loss for us when they would retaliate. Since that, our men, Early and McCoslin, had burned Chambersburg, so I guess Sheridan thought he was in a good position to retaliate now. The morning we left Waynesboro, I counted 100 barns, granaries, mills and wheat ricks, burning. We were on an elevation and could see a long distance. We knew it was the beginning of a dreadful disaster to the Confederacy.

Sheridan passed on, burning as he went, only leaving dwellings and one mill in every ten miles. He was like a spoilt child. Drove well, as long as we followed at a distance, but as soon as we would press him, he would halt and fight us. As his forces out-numbered ours so much, all we could do was to keep our distance and let him go on. Every night we camped and rested and so did he.

Recruits were coming in occasionally, and one young fellow, Dick Oliver, from Orange Co., came to us on this march toward Harper’s Ferry. We were scarce of men for picket duty about that time, in our company, and some one suggested to send this new man, and an old picket guard with him, as it was his first service. So the Orderly Serg. introduced me to young Oliver as Bro. Peck and told him I would accompany him.

We got the countersign and watchword and started for our picket post. He was a very intelligent young man and highly educated. We were standing guard on the Shenandoah river and after being out awhile, he said it reminded him of the children of Israel going from Egypt back to the Land of Canaan. He made a mistake in relating some of the narrative and I called his attention to it and he remembered then, that I was right. He talked on a while and soon made another error. He then said that he didn’t remember the Bible as he did other things and for me to take the subject and we’d talk it over together, as it was very interesting to him. I told him, I thought to make the topic more interesting, it was better to start with the baby, Moses, and how Miriam had watched him in his little basket in the rushes, and I came on up to his manhood when he was Pharoah’s adopted son; then how God had spoken to him from the burning bush. Then I talked on of how Moses tried to get Pharoah to let the children of Israel go back to their own land and of his crossing the Red Sea with them; how the 12 spies were sent to explore the Land of Canaan and ten reported a bad land and only two, Joshua and Caleb, said it was a good land. The report of the ten spies so discouraged the children of Israel that they rebelled, and God punished them by keeping them wandering in the wilderness 40 years. And by the time I got through with it all, and Moses on Mount Nebo, and fought two or three battles over in Canaan with Joshua and Caleb, I heard an old rooster crow at a farm house, near. We went back into camp after daybreak, and Oliver went to the Serg. and said: “What in the world did you send the Chaplain out there with me for? I had two canteens of whiskey and wanted some so bad all night, but hated to ask the parson to drink with me or drink in his presence.” The Serg. said: “You are crazy, I never sent the Chaplain with you.” Oliver said: “Oh yes, you did. I was spouting some of the Bible and he corrected me twice and commenced at the birth of Moses and talked on for more than 50 years. Why he knows the Bible by heart, I believe!” The Serg. had a hearty laugh and when the other boys found it out, I was called “Parson” for a long time. I regretted his mistake, of course, as I missed several drinks that would have helped me over the night very much.

We marched all that day and at night we needed rations and Capt. James Breckinridge told me to butcher some sheep that some of our men had captured from Sheridan. Sheridan was driving off all the cattle, sheep, hogs and horses, that he could get to starve us out, but we captured sheep and cattle from him occasionally and these had been put in a tobacco house near. I went to the house and butchered two of the sheep in the dark, and got them dressed by about one o’clock. I then went to the nearest house to get vessels to cook the mutton in, and no one answered me when I called. Of course, at that time of night they were all asleep. But finally a lady called down from an upper window and I told her I had orders to press their cooking utensils into service, and I’d like for her to get them for me. She came down and helped me to get the mutton to cooking, and was as kind as any one could be. By the time the army came along the next morning, I had the mutton ready and each man’s bread and mutton cut off, and handed it out as they passed. When young Oliver passed with Sandy White, Sandy told Oliver that he ought to feel complimented to have the chaplain serving him, and we had a laugh over the joke and they rode on. Capt. Breckinridge was among the last coming by and told me I had better butcher a couple more of the sheep and cook them at this same place that day, and have it ready for the next day’s rations, and he would send and get it. So I went to work and got it ready, but by the time I got the meat to boiling, word came to me that Oliver had been killed and Sandy White mortally wounded and captured. Such is life in warfare. Oliver had only been with us two days and nights until he was killed.

As soon as the meat had been cooked, the wagon came for it and I went on with the wagon and joined the command about 10 miles farther on, where they had encamped. We remained here until ordered back to Petersburg.

Chas. Cahoon and I were sent out on picket one day and there was a nice brick house near where we thought we had to stand guard, so I went up and called and asked the lady of the house if this wasn’t the place the pickets usually stood. She said, in a very gruff way: “No, it is where the thieves stand, you are every one a set of nasty thieves.” I said, is it possible that you would call such gentlemen as we are, thieves? Now, what would my mother say if she knew her son had been called a thief? I’m certainly sorry to know that you have such an opinion of us. She said: “Well that is all you are and I’ll never believe anything else until you prove it.” I told her, now since she had branded me as a thief I was going to take something. She said: “No you won’t, for I’m going to watch you.” She sat on the porch and watched us a part of the time and her daughter watched when she left. She had the school children, about 60 yards away, watching, and the old man was watching, also. She told the school teacher to watch us, so they’d be sure that we wouldn’t get anything.

I fed the horses before the school children got out for dinner and held some corn in my hand to bait the chickens. I helloed, “shew!” and pretended to try to drive the chickens away, but was showing them the corn and calling so the old lady couldn’t hear me. Directly one came and ate from my hand and I just closed my hand on it and twisted its head off, and slipped it under my overcoat and then put it in Cahoon’s haversack. He said: “Peck, that old devil is looking right at you.” I told him that was the funny part of it. The old man would hit one lick at his chopping and then look at us, then another lick and up at us again. Presently another chicken came up and I got it the same way, so I had my two chickens and was content. When school was out I went a few steps, down to the branch, and helped the teacher and children across. I had talked to the old lady some during the day and found out that she was a sister of Peach Wolf, who had been on our circuit at my home and had preached a funeral in our family. I had called on her brother at Winchester that same spring. He was a splendid man and I told the old lady how much I thought of him. I began to get on the right side of her in that way. We left about sundown and went up to tell them all good-bye. Her daughter was beautiful and I told her I had fallen completely in love with the young lady, and how sad it was to think we might never meet again, that I might be numbered with the slain before another day. I quoted the poetry:

I told her I hated to leave, thinking that she thought me a thief, and she said: “Oh, I’ll take it all back, I don’t think you would take anything. I am sorry I ever said such a thing, for I believe you are the most honest Confederate there is.” At this Cahoon burst out laughing and started off. He couldn’t stand it, he said, any longer. I called to him to come back, but he wouldn’t do it. I was going to show her the chickens, after she had thought me so honest, and pay her for them, but Cahoon wouldn’t come back, so I left, letting her keep her exalted opinion of me.

In a week or so I went back and spent the day with the people who had helped me to cook the mutton and they treated me as kindly as if I had been a near relative.

On Monday, following, Lieut. Walton, of Salem, Roanoke Co., detached me to go to Salem for his horse. I left the command Monday eve and rode every day and half of each night until I reached Fincastle. I stayed at home from midnight until after breakfast, and started on to Salem. I had a sweetheart beyond Salem, in Montgomery Co. in fact, she was the lady I married in Sept ’65, and she has been my faithful companion ever since; has helped me fight the most important battle of all, the battle of life. As I had a ten days furlough, I thought I must take advantage of this opportunity of seeing her so spent two days and nights at her home. I came back by my home at Fincastle and got my gray mare that I had left at the horse pasture with blood-poison, when Custer was making his raid near Trevillian Depot. She had been sent home some time before that, but I hadn’t had an opportunity to get her. She was now fat and fine and well rested, and in good shape for service.

I found our command near Mount Jackson, when I returned to the army. Shortly after I got there the Yankee cavalry made a raid up to Mt. Jackson. Our artillery took a position on Rude’s Hill and fired across Meam’s Bottoms at the enemy’s artillery, stationed on the heights at Mt. Jackson. Levi Wheat and a young man named Scott, of Co. A., Bedford Co., were killed here. Our cavalry made a charge and the enemy fled. A few of our men were killed, but more of the Yankees. Our artillery did the most of the damage.

We remained at Mt. Jackson until after Xmas. There was a heavy guard put around the camp to keep any of the soldiers from going away, but as the Shenandoah was considerably swollen, no guard was put there, thinking no one could cross.

Geo. Shaver and I thought it would be a good chance for us to cross the river and go to Lutheran preaching Xmas eve. So just after roll call, we swam the river on our horses, but got wet above our knees, and went on to preaching. We went to a Mr. Bear’s first, who was a connection or acquaintance of Shaver’s and took the young ladies to church, staying until after mid-night. It was a kind of watch service. We took the young ladies home and Mrs. Bear gave us a fine roasted turkey tied up in a sack. She told us not to open it until we got back to camp, and you can imagine the delight of all the boys when that sack was opened. We got back to camp alright and went to bed and some of the boys of our own mess didn’t know we had been out until we showed them our turkey. The next day being Xmas, a number of boxes was sent to us by the citizens, which was greatly enjoyed by all.

In a short time we broke camp and crossed one of the Alleghany Ranges and went into Hardy Co. As Sheridan had burned and destroyed so much in the Valley, we went out in order to make our own living the best way we could. Twenty-five days’ rations of salt was given to us when we left and that was all we had. No bread, meat, or anything. Of course, we had to steal everything we ate, for we had no money to buy any thing with. Fitz Lee’s whole division went on this trip. The road around the mountain was very winding and some of the boys set out fire along the road as we went up and as they reached the foot, on the other side, set that. The fire rushed up from both sides until it reached the top, and those of us farther back, when we reached the top, could enjoy the spectacle. It was beautiful, we all thought, especially as it was doing no one any harm.

We were most of the day in crossing and we found a beautiful little valley where no one seemed to have been before, to molest the peace and quietude. We hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and shortly after we went into camp, a sheep ran through, and John Sears and I, started after him. He ran down into a little cut, where the cattle had been going to water, and Wm. and Geo. Bowyer, two of my mess mates, happened to be coming up this cut, so we soon hemmed and caught the sheep. In a very short time we had it dressed and in our frying pans. After filling our pans we divided the rest out among the other men nearest to us. Directly one of our lieutenants came to our tent and said he saw a sheep pass a little while ago and he guessed some of us had better try to get it, that the men ought to have food. I told him to sit down a few minutes and eat supper with us. He was surprised when I said supper. He said: “Where did you get anything for supper?” Then I told him of his sheep he thought of getting, that we had it in our frying pans and it would soon be done. We sliced it very thin and beat it a little like steak. It was very fat and fried itself nicely. It was very cold weather and before we got to camp some of us had relieved the citizens of some of their bee gums. They were all excitement as the army would pass and some of us would just drop out of ranks and get the bee gums, while the citizens were watching the others ride by. The bees would fly out at first, but would soon get so chilled that they would fall to the ground. So we had honey, mutton and Potomac river water, for supper, but no bread. We called it the land of mutton and honey, instead of the Land of Canaan, that flowed with milk and honey.

We had tents with us and would build up big log fires, and sleep with our feet near the fires, so were very comfortable, despite the freezing cold weather. Each morning some men were sent out to locate another place to camp, as we only stayed a day and night at one place. In this way we kept clear of bush-whackers, and it made it easier on the citizens feeding us. No one would feel the loss, so much, of what we would steal from him.

We went into a beautiful grove the second night and the whole division camped on a level, so that we could see from one end of the line of tents to the other. We kept out pickets and camp guards all night, and then a watchman was kept at a tent called the “guard-house,” also. It fell to my lot to stay at the guard-house this second night. It had gotten warmer in the eve and some of the men didn’t raise their tents, just spread them out and laid on them and spread their blankets over them. When daylight came, I called the bugler and told him to get up and look. A four or five inch snow had fallen and the whole army was sound asleep and the men covered up with snow. It had kept them so warm that they were sleeping unusually well. I told him to blow the bugle and we’d see a sight similar to the resurrection, when they would rise from their snowy mounds. When the bugle sounded the men began trying to get up and as the blankets were lifted the snow just poured in their faces. Well, then you’d think of anything but the resurrection, at hearing the Sunday School words, we heard. It was certainly laughable to see and hear them. While I was on guard some of the other boys had cooked a lot of pork that we had gotten the day before, so we had a good breakfast of pork and corn bread. We had made a miller divide his meal with us and I’ll tell you, we relished it that snowy morning.

We had left the Potomac now and wasn’t near any stream, so we needed water. It had quit snowing by daylight and the wind was coming from the north and it turned very much colder. I told the boys I would take the canteens and thought I’d find water soon, of course, but instead, I went a half mile or so before I found a little stream in the woods. I kicked the snow away and found about six inches of ice under that, so I had to cut that away with my pocket knife. I had to get a place large enough to sink the canteen to fill it. I kept my gloves on and made it alright until I went to fill the 8 canteens. I took my gloves off then, as I had to put my hands in the water and sink the canteen. I started back with the 8 canteens around my neck and shoulders, and as I had stayed a good while, Henry Ballard started on the hunt for me. I’d been up all night and hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, so I guess that made the cold effect me more. Just as Henry met me, following my tracks in the snow, I fell in a dead faint, he said. He called back to the other boys, and Wm. Bowyer came immediately, but I had revived again by the time he got to me. I was as sick as I could be, though. They carried the canteens and helped me back to camp and went for Dr. Shackleford. He said to get whiskey, that I was nearly frozen, but nobody had any. I tried to always keep some for sickness, but happened not to have any then. He told the boys then to get some warm lard, and he gave me a cup, nearly a pint, of that warm lard. It was a dose, but I guess it was what pulled me through. In less than an hour I felt so much better that I helped the boys eat their pork and corn bread.

We moved through the snow and cold again that day, to a nice hickory grove, near the Potomac again, so we’d have no scarcity of water, the small streams all being frozen. Some of the boys began cutting down trees for our fires and others to foraging for food. I remembered of seeing a big iron kettle about a mile behind us, that I thought would be so good to scald hogs and cook a whole one in. So Chas. Cahoon, John Sears and myself, went back to get the kettle, but found it filled with ice. We carried it a very short distance from the house and raked the snow away and made a fire in a lot of leaves and melted the ice, so that it would slip out of the kettle, and took it on to camp. After going a short distance, I told the boys we’d better try to get a hog, too, for fear the other boys hadn’t found one. I noticed a path, that evening, in passing along the road, where hogs had been going to water in the snow, and when we got to it, we followed it right to their bed. It was right dark and we couldn’t see them very well, especially the white ones. But there was one old black fellow and I shot him, but he just squealed and ran down this path to the river. We followed him and he ran out on the ice a little way and we heard him scuffling and followed on after him and found he was about dead. We cut his throat and Cahoon carried him back to camp and Sears and I carried the kettle.

Directly after we got into camp, our honey battallion came. Geo. Nininger, James Brownlee, Peter Burger, Thomas Carper and Abraham Moody, formed this crowd. They brought in five gums and I helped to unload it. When I got to the fourth man, I thought he had an extra good gum of honey and to our amazement, we found it was nearly filled with ashes. We teased the boys good for their mistake. We soon prised the tops off and it was the finest lot of honey I ever saw, I believe. I told the boys we must try to invent some way to carry some of it to our next camp, and as I had six new home-made towels with me, that mother had given me the last time I was at home, we decided to sew them up and strain the honey out of the comb and put it in our canteens. We soon had nearly a dozen canteens filled with strained honey. It strained nicely by the hot log fires. Wm. Bowyer had assorted the honey and we only strained the nice white comb. The boys ate a lot of the dark comb while we were working with it, and Chas. Cahoon, especially. There was a lot of bee bread in the dark comb, of course, and Charles said his father told him honey wouldn’t make you sick at all, if you ate plenty of that bee bread. But Charles hadn’t been through eating long until he began getting sick and drunk, and said to some of us, that he was going to walk out away from the fire and see if he wouldn’t feel better. Well, he got up and walked right through the fire. He went so rapidly that his clothing didn’t catch, but his eye-brows and whiskers were well scorched. I told the boys that either Shadrack, Meshac or Abednago, were with us, I knew, for they were the only persons who ever went through fire unharmed. We all had to laugh, of course, and all he said was: “Boys, I’d give a thousand dollars if Bowyer would just get sick.” We had some dressed pork on hand when we went into camp, and some of the boys put it on to cook and by the time we got through straining our honey, the pork was done, so we ate supper about mid-night or 2 o’clock in the morning. Some of the other boys had dressed the hog we had brought in and as soon as we ate, we put it on to have ready for breakfast.

We heard there was a garrison of men at Moore Field, about 30 miles from where we were, and some of our boys were sent over to capture them. They were paroled, when captured, and allowed to return home until exchanged.

When we moved camp next, we stopped in a nice piece of level land, just where a creek ran into the Potomac. We were near the head of the Potomac, so it wasn’t a very large stream. The man who owned the land, lived near in a fine dwelling and had plenty of everything around him. Col. Munford sent Capt. Cary Breckinridge, the ordinance Serg., Morris Guggenheimer, and Beverly Whittle and myself, down to the house to protect the house and its inmates. This was always done, if the citizens asked for protection.

We had saved the leaf fat from the fat sheep and cattle, until we had nearly a 2-bushel sack full. I thought this would be a good time to render it into tallow, so I took it down to the house and got one of the ladies to help me, and in a little while I had more than a bushel of tallow, moulded in maple sugar moulds. We were in a regular maple sugar country. All the people had big kettles and regular equipments for making it. We were too early for the season, but we got some that was left from the year before. We kept our tallow to use about making gravy or putting in our bread, and I ate it sometimes, if I got too awfully hungry. The other boys couldn’t stand to eat it, but I could eat anything then, rather than starve.

When we left this camp, thirty of us were sent to Buck Horn Mill, to hold any meal or flour they might have, until the command came. There were dozens of pairs of buck horns tacked on the mill. The country abounded in deer. We found very little in the mill, and we hadn’t been there long, until one of our companies came after us, to get what was in the mill, and brought a dispatch telling us to go to the top of Droop Mountain and go on picket duty on the Parkersburg and Harrisonburg road.

We got there about sun-down, and asked a man living there, if he could give us provision and keep the men, while not on duty. He was in sympathy with the South and did all he could for our comfort. I went out on the first watch and when my 2 hours were out, I came back and asked the man why, did he suppose, my horse was so restless when I was out, that I didn’t see anything. He said it was deer that she saw or smelt. He said they were there by the dozens. One of our men shot one, while up there. We saw the tracks everywhere the next morning, but they had all gone back to the woods.

The next day we went on farther toward Highland Co. Our next stop was near a place called Franklin and some of the officers had some Confederate money and they bought a few of the beautiful cattle and sent them home.

We passed a stillhouse on our next move and all the boys got some whiskey. That night, after the majority of us were asleep, we heard some one coming along shouting and singing, and it proved to be Col. Breckinridge’s colored waiting boy, Griffin Hawkins, just drunk enough to be “mouthy.” I said, Griff, is that you? He said: “Yes Sir. Hurrah for you.” Then he began calling the roll: “Ammen, Marcus; Bowyer, G. F.; Bowyer, Wm.; Cahoon, C. C.,” and on until he called us all. Then he said: “Geneman, you is de bravest men we is got. We’s goin’ to drive dem d—d Yankees clear away, presently, and den I’s gwine home to see my Hannah Jane. I’s gwine to tell her: