The Story of a Cannoneer Under Stonewall Jackson Part 7

This was done by a citizen of Frederick City who happened to be present when General McClellan received it and heard him express satisfaction over such a stroke of luck. This citizen at once went to work to inform General Lee, which task he accomplished by pa.s.sing through the Federal lines during the night and informing General Stuart, who forthwith communicated it to General Lee, who lost no time in moving heaven and earth--the former by prayer, we a.s.sume; the latter by his authority over men--to meet the emergency. Results proved how wonderfully he succeeded.

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

After pa.s.sing through a piece of woodland, we entered a small field and came in distinct view of two blue lines of battle, drawn up one in rear of the other. On these we at once opened fire, and were answered very promptly by a Federal battery in the same quarter. While thus engaged we had a visitor in the person of a young fellow who had just been commissioned a lieutenant, having previously been an orderly at brigade headquarters. Feeling his newly acquired importance, he spurred his horse around among the guns, calling out, "Let 'em have it!" and the like, until, seeing our disgust at his impertinent encouragement, and that we preferred a chance to let him have it, he departed. Our next visitor came in a different guise, and by a hint of another kind was quickly disposed of. He, a man of unusually large size, with sword dangling at his side, came bounding from our right at a full run. A large log a few steps in our rear was his goal as a place of safety, and over it he leaped and was instantly concealed behind it. He had scant time to adjust himself before the log was struck a cras.h.i.+ng blow by a solid shot. He reappeared as part of the upheaval; but, regaining his feet, broke for the woods with the speed of a quarterhorse, and a greater confidence in distance than in logs.

It was now dark, and our range had been accurately gotten. After each discharge of our opponent's guns, what appeared to be a harmless spark of fire, immovable as a star, repeatedly deceived us. It was the burning fuse in the head of the sh.e.l.l which, coming straight toward us, seemed stationary until the sh.e.l.l shot by or burst. Four young mules drawing our battery-forge were stampeded by these sh.e.l.ls and ran off through the woods, thus affording Pleasants, our blacksmith, entertainment for the rest of the night.

Firing ceased on both sides at about eight o'clock, and we pa.s.sed through the woods to our left and went into park on the opposite side.

Still feeling the comfort of my clean clothes, I enjoyed a quiet night's rest on the top of a caisson, little heeding the gentle rain which fell on my face. Our bivouac was immediately by the "Straw-stacks," which have been so generally referred to as landmarks in this battle, and which were located in the open ground near the forest which extended to the Dunkard church. About seven o'clock next morning, while standing with horses. .h.i.tched and awaiting orders, no engagement so far having taken place near us, a sh.e.l.l of great size burst with a terrific report.

One fragment of it mortally wounded Sam Moore, a driver of my gun, while another piece cut off the forefoot of one of the horses in the team. We soon transferred his harness to another horse which we hitched in his stead and, as we went off at a trot, the crippled horse took his place close by where he was accustomed to work, and kept alongside on three legs until his suffering was relieved by a bullet in the brain.

We had moved, to get out of range of missiles, but the place to which we had just come was not an improvement. While standing with the gun in front turned in file at right angles to those following, a twenty-pound sh.e.l.l swept by the six drivers and their teams in the rear, just grazing them, then striking the ground, ricocheted almost between the forward driver and his saddle as he threw himself forward on the horse's neck. I mention this in contrast with an occurrence later in the day, when one sh.e.l.l killed or wounded all of the six horses in a team, together with their three drivers.

Fighting along the line of four miles had become general--done on our side chiefly by infantry. Jackson's corps occupied the left with a thin line of men, and from it there was already a stream of stragglers.

Jackson, while sitting nearby on his horse, watching the battle, was approached by a lad of about thirteen years, who for some time had been one of his orderlies. He began talking in a very animated manner, pointing the while to different parts of the field. Jackson kept his eyes on the ground, but gave close attention to what was said. The boy was Charles Randolph, and soon after this became a cadet at the Virginia Military Inst.i.tute, and at the battle of New Market was left on the field for dead. Fourteen years after the war, while visiting in a neighboring county, I was introduced to a Reverend Mr. Randolph, and, seeing the resemblance to the soldier-boy, I asked him about Sharpsburg, recalling the incident, and found he was the lad.

The straggling already mentioned continually increased, and seemed to give General Jackson great concern. He endeavored, with the aid of his staff officers who were present and the members of our company, to stop the men and turn them back, but without the least effect; claiming, as they did, the want of ammunition and the usual excuses. The marvel was, how those remaining in line could have withstood the tremendous odds against them; but, from accounts, the enemy suffered the same experience, and in a greater degree. Up to this time, with the exception of a return of our battery to the Dunkard church, where we had fought the evening before, we had done nothing. At about ten o'clock the indications were that if reinforcements could not be promptly had serious consequences would follow. But just after our return from the church to General Jackson's place of observation we saw a long column of troops approaching from the left. This was McLaw's division of Longstreet's corps, which had just reached the field. Their coming was most opportune, and but a short time elapsed before the comparative quiet was interrupted--first by volleys, followed by a continuous roar of battle.

Our battery was now ordered to the left of our line, and on the way thither joined Raines's battery, of Lynchburg, and a battery of Louisianians--eleven guns in all. Besides the ordinary number of guns accompanying infantry, we had to contend with about thirty 32-pounders on the high ground in the rear and entirely commanding that part of the field. In view of the superior odds against us, our orders were to hold our positions as long as possible, then to move to our left and occupy new ones. Why such instructions were given was soon explained, as the ground over which we pa.s.sed, and where we stopped to fire, was strewn with the dead horses and the wrecks of guns and caissons of the batteries which had preceded us. By the practice thus afforded, the Federal batteries had gotten a perfect range, and by the time our guns were unlimbered we were enveloped in the smoke and dust of bursting sh.e.l.ls, and the air was alive with flying iron. At most of the positions we occupied on this move it was the exception when splinters and pieces of broken rails were not flying from the fences which stood in our front, hurled by shot and sh.e.l.l.

Working in the lead of one of the Louisiana battery teams was a horse that frequently attracted my admiration. A rich blood-bay in color, with flowing black mane and tail, as he swept around in the various changes with wide, glowing nostrils and flecked with foam, in my eyes he came well up to the description of the warhorse whose "neck was clothed with thunder."

Moving as we had been doing, toward the left of our line, we pa.s.sed beyond that portion held by regular infantry commands into what was defended by a mere show of force when scarcely any existed. In charge of it was Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, who demonstrated on this occasion his ability to accomplish what it would seem impossible for one man to do.

With a few skeleton regiments supplied with numerous flags which he posted to show over the crests of the ridges in our rear, as if there were men in proportion, he himself took command of a line of sharpshooters in our front. This skirmish-line was composed of stragglers he had gathered up, and whom he had transformed from a lot of s.h.i.+rkers into a band of heroes. With black plume floating, cheering and singing, back and forth along the line he swept.

The Federals confronting us in the three blue lines could not have been less than 8,000 men, who, with their powerful artillery, should have utterly overwhelmed the scant numbers handled by Stuart. As the blue lines would start forward, calling to our artillery to pour in the sh.e.l.ls again, he would urge on his sharpshooters to meet them half-way.

The failure of a strong force of Federals to advance farther is explained, no doubt, by the fact that two of their army corps and one division had suffered terribly a short time before near the same ground.

Colonel Allan states, in his "Army of Northern Virginia, 1862," page 409, "Of Hooker's and Mansfield's corps, and of Sedgwick's division, was nothing left available for further operations"; and General Palfrey, the Northern historian, says, "In less time than it takes to tell it, the ground was strewn with the bodies of the dead and wounded, while the unwounded were moving off rapidly to the north." (Palfrey, "Antietam and Fredericksburg," page 87.)

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

In the constant changes from knoll to knoll, in accordance with orders to "move when the fire became too hot," some of the batteries with us withdrew, perhaps prematurely. In this way the Rockbridge guns were left to receive the whole of the enemy's fire. In just such a situation as this, it not being to our liking, I asked Lieutenant Graham if we should pull out when the others did. Before he could answer the question a sh.e.l.l burst at our gun, from which an iron ball an inch in diameter struck me on the right thigh-joint, tearing and carrying the clothes in to the bone. I fell, paralyzed with excruciating pain. Graham rode off, thinking I was killed, as he afterward told me. The pain soon subsided, and I was at first content to lie still; but, seeing the gra.s.s and earth around constantly torn up, and sometimes thrown on me, I made fruitless efforts to move. The strict orders against a.s.sisting the wounded prevented my being carried off until the firing had ceased, when I was taken back about fifty yards and my wound examined by two surgeons from the skeleton regiments, who treated me with the utmost kindness, thinking, perhaps, from my clean white s.h.i.+rt, that I was an officer. An hour later my gun came by, and I was put on a caisson and hauled around for an hour or two more.

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

"As one of the Army of Northern Virginia I occasionally saw the Commander-in-Chief, or pa.s.sed the headquarters close enough to recognize him and members of his staff; but a private soldier in Jackson's corps did not have much time during that campaign for visiting, and until the battle of Sharpsburg I had no opportunity of speaking to him. On that occasion our battery had been severely handled, losing many men and horses. Having three guns disabled, we were ordered to withdraw and, while moving back, we pa.s.sed General Lee and several of his staff grouped on a little knoll near the road. Having no definite orders where to go, our captain, seeing the commanding General, halted us and rode over to get some instructions. Some others and myself went along to see and hear. General Lee was dismounted with some of his staff around him, a courier holding his horse. Captain Poague, commanding our battery, the Rockbridge Artillery, saluted, reported our condition, and asked for instructions. The General listened patiently, looked at us, his eyes pa.s.sing over me without any sign of recognition, and then ordered Captain Poague to take the most serviceable horses and men, man the uninjured gun, send the disabled part of his command back to refit, and report to the front for duty. As Poague turned to go, I went up to speak to my father. When he found out who I was he congratulated me on being well and unhurt. I then said, 'General, are you going to send us in again?' 'Yes, my son,' he replied, with a smile, 'you all must do what you can to help drive these people back.' In a letter to Mrs. Lee, General Lee says, 'I have not laid eyes on Rob since I saw him in the battle of Sharpsburg, going in with a single gun of his, for the second time, after his company had been withdrawn in consequence of three of its guns having been disabled....'"

Held by a companion on the caisson, as it was driven toward our right, jolting over the partly torn-down fences and exposed to far-reaching missiles, I had an opportunity of seeing other portions of the battlefield. We stopped for a time on the ridge overlooking the village almost enveloped in the flames of burning buildings, while flocks of terrified pigeons, driven hither and thither by the screaming and bursting sh.e.l.ls, flew round and round in the clouds of smoke. In hearing, from beyond and to the left of the village, was the fighting at "b.l.o.o.d.y Lane," a sunken road which was almost filled with the dead of both sides when the day closed. As was also that at "Burnside Bridge," a mile southeast of the town, for the possession of which Burnside's corps and Toombs's Georgians contended till late in the afternoon. I was not averse to leaving this scene when the disabled caisson proceeded, and reached the pike.

A mile farther on I was deposited on the roadside, near the brigade field-hospital; and, completely exhausted, was carried into the yard of a neat brick cottage by two stalwart Alleghany Roughs and laid beside their captain, John Carpenter. The place, inside and out, was filled with wounded men. Carpenter insisted on my taking the last of his two-ounce vial of whiskey, which wonderfully revived me. Upon inquiry, he told me he had been shot through the knee by a piece of sh.e.l.l and that the surgeons wanted to amputate his leg, but, calling my attention to a pistol at his side, said, "You see that? It will not be taken off while I can pull a trigger." He entirely recovered, and led his battery into the next battle, where he was again severely wounded. That the history of the four Carpenter brothers of Alleghany County, Virginia, has not been recorded is a misfortune. As already mentioned, Joe, the oldest, and captain of the Alleghany Rough Battery, was mortally wounded near us at Cedar Mountain. John, who succeeded him as captain, after being wounded at Sharpsburg, was again wounded at Fredericksburg in 1862, where he was twice carried from the field, and as often worked his way back to his gun. In Early's campaign in 1864 he lost his right arm.

In the same campaign his next younger brother, Ben, lieutenant in the same company, was shot through the lungs. The wounds of neither had healed when they received news, at their home, of the surrender at Appomattox. Mounting their horses, they set out for Gen. Joe Johnston's army in North Carolina, but, on arriving at Lexington, Virginia, heard of the surrender of that army. The fourth and youngest brother lost a leg near the close of the war. Like all true heroes, their modesty was as striking as their courage and patriotism.

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

About sundown that afternoon I was put in an ambulance with S. R. Moore, of the College company, who was in a semi-conscious state, having been struck on the brow, the ball pa.s.sing out back of the ear. The distance to Shepherdstown was only three miles, but the slow progress of innumerable trains of wagons and impedimenta generally, converging at the one ford of the Potomac, delayed our arrival until dawn the next morning. About sunrise we were carried into an old deserted frame house and a.s.signed to the bare floor for beds. My brother David, whose gun had remained on picket duty on this side of the river, soon found me, and at once set about finding means to get me away. The only conveyance available was George Bedinger's mother's carriage, but my brother's horse--the same brute that had robbed me of my bedding at Leesburg---now refused to work.

The booming of cannon and bursting of sh.e.l.ls along the river at the lower end of the town admonished us that our stay in the desolate old house must be short, and, as brigade after brigade marched by the door, the apprehension that "they in whose wars I had borne my part" would soon "have all pa.s.sed by," made me very wretched. As a last resort, I was lifted upon the back of this same obstreperous horse and, in great pain, rode to the battery, which was camped a short distance from the town.

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

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

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

After a sojourn of a few days, leave to go home was given me by the department surgeon, and at four o'clock in the morning, with young Boiling, Barton and Reid serving as my crutches (on their way to the Virginia Military Inst.i.tute), I was put in the stage-coach at the front door and driven to the hotel, where several Baltimoreans, who were returning from Northern prisons, got in. One of them was especially noticeable, as his face was much pitted by smallpox, and with his Confederate uniform he wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. They were a jolly set, and enlivened the journey no little. A square or two farther on, two wounded officers came from a house at which we stopped, and in an authoritative manner demanded seats inside, all of which were occupied.

They said they were officers in a celebrated command and expected corresponding consideration. The fellow with the hat told them his party was just from Fort Delaware, where little distinction was paid to rank, but if they required exalted positions they ought to get on top of the coach. The officers said they were wounded and could not climb up. "I was wounded, too--mortally," came from under the hat. After joking them sufficiently, the Baltimoreans kindly gave up their seats and mounted to the top.

[Ill.u.s.tration: R. T. BARTON]

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

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

From nine to ten o'clock in the night I was utterly exhausted, and felt that I could not go a mile farther alive; but rallied, and reached Staunton at six o'clock in the morning, having been twenty-six hours on the way. Here Sam Lyle and Joe Chester, of the College company, detailed as a provost-guard, cared for me until the next day, when another stage-ride of thirty-six miles brought me to Lexington and home. With the aid of a crutch I was soon able to get about, but four months pa.s.sed before I was again fit for duty, and from the effects of the wound I am lame to this day.

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

CHAPTER XIX

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

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

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

"In conjunction with Stuart's horse artillery it was our mission to meet Burnside's movement against General Lee's right wing, resting on the Rappahannock. With the exception of brief intervals, to let the guns cool, we ceased firing only once during the entire day, and this was to move about a hundred yards for a more effective position. Excepting the few minutes this occupied, our guns and limber-chests remained in the same position all day, the caissons plying steadily between the ordnance-train and the battle line, to keep up the stock of ammunition.

I do not recall the number of casualties, but our losses were heavy.

When we came to make the change of position mentioned above, more than half the horses were unable to take a single step. One of the drivers, Fuller, was lying on the ground, his head toward the enemy. A sh.e.l.l entered the crown of his head and exploded in his body! Not long after this I heard some one calling me, and, looking back, I saw 'Doc'

Montgomery prostrate. I ran to him and, stooping at his side, began to examine his wound. 'There is nothing you can do for me,' he said; 'I am mortally wounded, and can live but a little while. Take a message for my mother.' (His mother was a widow.) 'When the battle is over, write and tell her how I died--at my post--like a man--and ready to give my life for the cause. Now, Frazer, pray for me.' When the brief prayer was ended I resumed my place at the gun. It was about this time, I think, that Pelham came up and said, 'Well, you men stand killing better than any I ever saw.' A little later, just after sunset, I received two severe wounds myself, one of them disabling my right arm for life; and so I had to commit brave 'Doc's' dying message for his mother to other hands."

The third and fourth pieces, twenty-pound Parrott guns, were on the hill west of the railroad, and there Lieutenant Baxter McCorkle, Randolph Fairfax and Arthur Robinson were killed, and Edward Alexander lost an arm. This section of the battery was exposed to a fire unsurpa.s.sed in fierceness during the war. The ground, when it arrived, was already strewn with dead horses and wrecked batteries, and two horses that were standing, with holes in their heads through which daylight could be seen, were instantly killed by other shots intended for our guns.

Captain Poague told me since, that the orders General Jackson gave him as he came to the place were, "to fire on the enemy's artillery till it became too hot for him, and then to turn his guns on their infantry,"

and that he, Poague, had stated this in his official report, and the chief of artillery of the corps, before forwarding the report, had asked him if he was sure that these were General Jackson's orders. He told him he was. The report was then endorsed and so forwarded.

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

After going into bivouac and the dead had been buried, to clear the ground for a renewal of the battle on the following day, the wagon-horses had to be brought into requisition. These were driven in pairs to the position on the bluff and, as lights would attract the fire of the enemy, the dead horses had to be found in the darkness, and with chains dragged to the rear. The approach of the first instalment to a line of infantry, through which it had to pa.s.s and who were roused from sleep by the rattling of chains and the dragging of the ponderous bodies through brush and fallen timber, created no little excitement, and a wide berth was given the gruesome procession. By midnight the work had been accomplished.

At dawn of the following day a fresh detachment of men and horses having been furnished by another battery for the fourth piece, our battery again went into position. There it remained inactive throughout the day, while the enemy's dead within our lines were being buried by their own men under flag of truce. On the night which followed, as the two armies lay under arms, confronting each other, a display of the aurora borealis, of surpa.s.sing splendor and beauty, was witnessed. At such times, from time immemorial, "shooting-stars", comets, and the movements of the heavenly bodies have been observed with profoundest interest as presaging good or evil. On this occasion, with the deep impress of what had just been experienced and the apprehension of an even more determined conflict on the day next to dawn, it can readily be imagined that minds naturally p.r.o.ne to superst.i.tion were thrilled with emotions and conjectures aroused by the sight. At any rate, these "northern lights," reinforced by the memory of the fearful carnage so recently suffered, seem to have been interpreted as a summons home--as the Northern hosts, like the s.h.i.+fting lights, had vanished from view when daylight appeared.

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

After arriving in a box-car at this station, about midnight, during a pouring rain, we found one section of the battery camped three miles from Port Royal. The other section, to which I belonged, was on picket twelve miles beyond--at Jack's Hill, overlooking Port Tobacco Bay. The section near Port Royal had comfortable winter-quarters on a hillside and was well sheltered in pine woods; and, as most of my mess were in this section, I was allowed to remain until the contents of my box brought from home were consumed. One night soon after my arrival, while making a visit to members of another mess, Abner Arnold, one of my hosts, pointing to a large, dark stain on the tarpaulin which served as the roof of their shanty, said, "Have you any idea what discolored that place?" As I had not, he said, "That's your blood; that is the caisson-cover on which you were hauled around at Sharpsburg--and neither rain nor snow can wash it out."