Reminiscences of a Private Part 3

d.i.c.k Bryan, Lieut. d.i.c.k Best, Jim Diamond, and kept one myself. The dry goods and rations were divided out to the company. It was amusing to see us with our faces as black as chimney sweeps with a white starched s.h.i.+rt on. We got our supper all right that night and slept like logs. The firing on the picket line did not worry us enough to keep us awake, though at times it seemed as if they were coming again. This ended the third day at Spottsylvania.

CHAPTER X.

We had a comparatively quiet night after this hard day's work and slept pretty well, lying down in ranks behind our breastworks. The rain that had been falling the entire day ceased during the early part of the night. We did not make down our beds, nor even take off our accoutrements; but then we had not done that since the night before the Wilderness. Next morning, after we had prepared and eaten our breakfast, the little we had, we were relieved by some other troops, and we were taken up on the right in and about the Angle; but just as we got there our troops had made an a.s.sault and had gained what they had lost.

Therefore, we were not actively in the engagement, though we were in it enough to be under a heavy fire, and we had some men both killed and wounded. I recollect that Lieut. d.i.c.k Steedly, of Company G, Bamberg, who was commanding that company, was wounded while we were on this part of the line, and others, too, whom I cannot recall.

We remained on this part of the line during the day, being kept in readiness to go to any point where we might be needed. We were kept close up to the fighting line, and, while not being engaged, yet we were close enough and were under a heavy fire during the entire day. We must have remained at this position that night. Next morning the enemy seemed to have moved down to their right--our left--and the fighting was heavy there. We were hurried down to that part of the line. We found a heavy fight going on, but the Georgians, whom we went to support, were holding their own, and we were held back ready to support any part that might give way. The Georgians finally made an a.s.sault and drove the enemy back and followed them closely for some distance. While this was going on we were lining quickly in rear, ready to move in any direction.

While waiting here Eddie Bellinger and I concluded to "nose around" and see if we could run on to anything. Rations were now scarce, and something to eat would go good. Without saying a word to anyone except Jim Diamond, we walked off in the direction of the front, where the Georgians were now skirmis.h.i.+ng. We soon reached their line and pa.s.sed on through to the front. The skirmis.h.i.+ng had about this time ceased. We continued to go on to the front and pa.s.s the skirmish line. The battlefield of the days before was just ahead of us, and we knew if we could get to where the dead were we would get something sure. Cautiously now, for we were in advance of our pickets and knew nothing of the whereabouts of the Yankees. But for something to eat we were taking chances. We at last came upon the ground where the dead of several days were lying. We had not searched but a few when heavy firing began on the right, and we discovered the pickets from outside advancing.

Immediately there was a perfect fusilade on the picket line on the right. We knew it would extend to where we were and catch us between the lines. Consequently, we determined to get "away back." We started back in a hurry, and when the Georgia picket line saw us coming back as hard as we could run they thought the Yankees were right in behind us, and they broke. The captain in command of the pickets soon discovered that the enemy were not making an advance, that Eddie and I had caused the whole confusion. He rallied his picket line, and by that time we were up with them. The old man was mad at us and he gave us the hardest "cussing" you ever heard; but we kept right on back and were soon with our company. We had three or four haversacks pretty well filled, and it was not long before Jim Diamond had a fire and had on it in tin cans sliced bacon and rice, making a pillau. It must have smelt good, for it was not long before Gen. Bratton and Col. Simms, his adjutant-general, came up near where we were cooking. Then Col. Hagood, Adjt. Clowney, Capt. Wood, all gathered near. In due course of time Jim took off his cans, some half dozen quarts, set them around, flattened out some pine paddles and invited up the gang. Did they come? You should have seen how readily they accepted the invitation. Not one of them hesitated in the least, and the best part was that there was just about enough for all.

You should have seen that crowd after the feast, getting out their pipes, filling up and lolling back, seemingly perfectly contented.

While upon the field of battle I came upon one poor fellow with his head completely gone, taken off even with his shoulders, evidently by a cannon ball. In taking his watch from his waist-band pocket, I felt a small roll of something. On investigating I found a few greenback bills sewed up in his waist-band. There were two tens and a five. As soon as Sid Key knew I had them he was after a trade, and I finally sold to him for three hundred and seventy-five Confederate.

The fighting had now about ceased along the entire line, except sharpshooting, which was kept up pretty regularly and rapidly enough to keep us expecting something at any time. But as the evening wore on nothing more serious occurred. I guess that we must have remained at this point during the night--I cannot recollect--but I think next morning all sharpshooting had stopped and everything on the entire line seemed to be perfectly quiet. During the morning we were moved, and we soon discovered that we were off again to meet Grant somewhere else, as he failed to get through at Spottsylvania, as well as the Wilderness, and was again moving to his left, still on his way to Richmond.

We held up that night in the vicinity of Hanover Junction, where we confronted the enemy. We remained here, I think, three days, with the enemy in front and heavy skirmis.h.i.+ng and sharpshooting going on, but no regular engagement was had here. They made no general advance. I guess they were about as tired and broken down as we were; and then, perhaps, Grant was holding up here for more men, as his losses at the Wilderness and Spottsylvania had been fearful. At any rate, we confronted him here for the three days, and we, too, rested up. While here one evening Col.

Hagood had the regiment formed and had such orders as these read:

"For meritorious conduct, the colonel commanding takes pleasure in announcing the following promotions and appointments: Adjt. S. B.

Clowney, to be captain of Company ---- (I forget whether Company B or Company K); Sergt.-Major O. D. A. Wilson, to be adjutant; Private E. W.

Bellinger, Company E, to be ensign, with rank of first lieutenant; Private W. R. Brabham, of Company C, to be sergeant-major; Private F. M.

Mixson to be sergeant, Company E, and Private R. C. Kirkland to be corporal of Company C. They will be obeyed and respected accordingly. By order of the colonel commanding."

I think I have failed to mention that Darling Patterson, who had been our color bearer since the Second Mana.s.sas, and had been home for some time suffering with a wound, had recovered sufficiently to return. He had, however, applied for a transfer to Hart's Battery, but this was refused until the Battery offered us two men for him, when the change was accepted. But up to this place, the two men (named Morrison and Stewart) had not reported to us, though they should have done so, and did so a short time thereafter, I think about the time we reached Petersburg.

After lying around Hanover Junction for about three days, and Grant had satisfied himself that we were there in his front, he (Grant) moved suddenly to Cold Harbor; and we moved as suddenly, and he again found us in his front. We went to Cold Harbor in a hurried march. As we were going down the public road, woods on the right and a large field on the left, we pa.s.sed Keitt's South Carolina Regiment, just from the coast, drawn up in line of battle on the side of the road, we pa.s.sing just in front of them. They were a fine body of men, the regiment bearing thirteen hundred strong--about twice as big as our entire brigade. They inquired of us, "What regiment are you?" and on being told the First South Carolina, they jokingly said, "This must be only one company of it." But, poor fellows, they soon learned how fast members could diminish.

We moved on down the line to our right and soon we heard the battle open in front of Keitt; and they were in it for the first time. Many a poor fellow who had so short a time left his home State in high spirits and "spoiling" for a fight on this field "bit the dust," but well did they hold their own and made several most gallant charges, not knowing what fear was. They did n.o.bly and held their part of the line manfully. We went on down the line, and it was not long before we, too, were in it.

We must have run upon the Yankees quite suddenly, for, while marching in columns of fours at a double quick, and pa.s.sing into a large field through a double gate, we "filed right," and upon getting distance enough we left flanked, throwing us into line of battle and immediately charged. I think this meeting was unexpected by both sides, because, as we double quicked through the gate, the brigade band was stationed there and was playing a lively air--perhaps "Bonnie Blue Flag." I know that was the only time we ever went into a fight with music, and it had the effect of putting us right into it thick and heavy before we even realized the enemy were near. It took us but a short time to break their lines and have them falling back. We had been resting for a few days and felt like fresh troops. We did not follow them up, I suppose for the reason we were acting on the defense, disputing their right to go to Richmond and holding them back. We had no other engagement in our front.

The hard fighting here was in front of Keitt. The Yankees must have known they were fresh from the coast and concentrated all their energies against them. At any rate, by night all the hard fighting was over, Grant was again repulsed, and we all remained on our respective fields.

The skirmis.h.i.+ng and sharpshooting, however, was heavy during the night and all next day, but no more advancing was done by the Yankees. We were content with holding our ground.

We remained around here for, I think, two days longer with nothing doing. I guess after these failures to break through our lines, Grant had decided to make a big circle and had pulled out, and Lee was holding us till he had located him, when he could again be in his front. The next place we met him was at Petersburg, but when he got there Lee and his handful were _still in his front_. The "On to Richmond" was started on the 5th of May at the Wilderness, and, with fighting every day and every night, on the 12th of June we confronted and held them out of Petersburg. I think that in Longstreet's History of the War, in telling of this great march of Grant's and Lee's skillful manoeuvering which met and foiled him in some of the greatest and biggest battles that had ever been fought in any war, Longstreet gives Grant's army at the Wilderness at one hundred and fifty-six thousand men, with the _world_ to draw from; Lee at the Wilderness with only fifty-eight thousand, you might say, regular "rag-a-m.u.f.fins," in so far as something to eat, clothing, ammunition and other supplies, and nowhere on G.o.d's green earth to draw men, material or supplies; but yet when Lee confronted Grant at Petersburg we were as indomitable as the first day at the Wilderness and loved Lee more. He was certainly now the idol of his men. Longstreet says that Grant's loss from the Wilderness to Petersburg in killed and wounded was fifty-eight thousand men, the number Lee had in his entire army. So, you see, on an average, each man in Lee's army had hit his man. Besides, our losses were heavy and we confronted Grant with only a mighty few.

CHAPTER XI.

It is strange that I cannot recall anything from Cold Harbor to Petersburg. I don't recollect when we left Cold Harbor nor how fast we were hurried, nor the distance. The first thing coming to my remembrance is reaching Petersburg. I have consulted with Capt. Foster and several others, privates like myself, of this place (Union, S. C.), who were members of the Palmetto Sharpshooters, a regiment of our brigade, and, to my surprise, they, too, are about as much in the dark as to that period as I am. I account for it this way: We had been around Cold Harbor for several days, the first two days of which we had hard fighting. The balance of the time remaining there we had only some skirmis.h.i.+ng on the picket lines and resting up. Therefore, there were no impressions left. Besides, we needed this rest and quiet sorely, after the hard times we had undergone since the first morning at the Wilderness. Some time pa.s.sed, and, consequently, we took things easy, regardless of everything. I do not remember, nor could I find out, how we reached Petersburg. I do not think, nor can I believe, that we pa.s.sed through Richmond. If not, we must have crossed the James River on pontoons below Richmond, but, be that as it may, we did reach Petersburg, and none too soon. There was a heavy fight in progress. It was then about sundown. We were thrown into line of battle and ordered to double quick. We had gone perhaps half a mile, drawing nearer and nearer the fighting forces, when suddenly we met our men being driven back. I understand that these were Gen. Beauregard's troops, who had been holding the enemy in check all day, and had just commenced to retire, being worn out and overpowered. They immediately fell in with us, and here we checked the advancing enemy and held our line, and upon this line so held we built the famous Petersburg breastworks, such works as were never built before, and which were occupied by our troops for nine _long_, _tiresome_ and _eventful_ months. It is true that at first these works here were only a crude affair, we not expecting to remain in them many days; but time went on and each day saw more work done, more facilities for moving around and for living, until we had built so that we could get around--cook, eat, sleep, the same as on the level, and with comparative safety, though the least exposure of the person would guarantee a quick shot from the enemy's sharpshooters with globe-sighted guns, and they got to be such expert marksmen that they rarely ever missed.

At this time our lines were some distance apart--far enough, in fact, for us and them to keep out our pickets, and the fighting for a while was done by the picket line, the army itself being hard at work with pick and spade. The work was hard and heavy and those who would go into the trenches at night would work the time while there and be relieved by fresh troops the following night. This was done until we had good works, and until Grant had so lengthened his line that nearly all of Lee's army was required to face him, leaving but a handful to relieve those who had worked the hardest, and who were also held as a kind of reserve, ready to go to any point, should the enemy make an a.s.sault.

These held in reserve would be one day one command, the next day another.

Grant now had Petersburg invested and had moved his lines up so close that we nor they had s.p.a.ce for pickets--in fact, our videttes did not leave our works. I don't think it could have been over two hundred yards from our works to theirs. It might have been more and it might have been less. It was a long time ago and I might not recall the distance correctly; but I do recollect that it was very uncomfortably close.

About this time the two men, Morrison and Stewart, whom were given us by Hart's Battery in exchange for Darling Patterson, came to us. I must take time to give a brief description of these two men. Morrison was a great big fellow, heavy frame, about forty-five or fifty years old, heavy gray beard, and he was a real good-hearted fellow, but the report of a gun would scare him out of his breeches. He was certainly const.i.tutionally a coward, and I really think he hated it, and when not under fire and not scared he would determine to try to not get so next time; but his good intentions would go to the wind just as soon as the bullets began to come.

The other fellow, Stewart, was a medium sized, dark complexioned, swarthy man, about thirty or thirty-five. He was a genuine coward and would not try, nor did he care to overcome it, but would skulk on all occasions; and, worse still, he pretended to be a preacher, and often, in the very nick of time, old Stewart would sing out, "Let's all join in prayer." He played this off on us for a little while, and would succeed in being left; but, after a while, we found him out, and would break up his little scheme, although I don't recollect his having even been gotten into a regular "sit-to" fight. About this time we got another recruit--one that must be mentioned in these memoirs, because I knew him before he came, and, besides, he was known to everyone from Barnwell.

John Lambert, of Barnwell, was our other new man, and why he should have selected our regiment for his service I could never understand, unless it was that he had known from infancy Col. Hagood, Eddie Bellinger, Jim Diamond, Perry Manville, the Mixson boys and Nelson boys, and perhaps some others; and as he had to go somewhere it was just as well to go where he knew people. Now, while John didn't love fighting, and always said that the Lord intended him to take care of himself, and he didn't purpose to disappoint the Lord, he was a jolly fellow and kept things lively with his jokes and quaint sayings. But, while he was very careful how he exposed himself, he did an act while in the trenches which the bravest of the brave shuddered at. After a time in the trenches it had gotten so that the least exposure was certain death. One day there came along in the field in rear of our regiment a nice, fat shoat, about fifty pounds, strolling as if he didn't care if corn was fifty dollars a bushel. He strolled along till a Yankee sharpshooter concluded to cut him down. We heard him squeal and saw the shoat keel over. Something to eat of any kind would go well, but a fat pig, within seventy-five yards, ready to be cleaned and cooked! John Lambert couldn't stand it, but, jumping out of the trenches, running back with the minnie b.a.l.l.s cutting the dirt all around him, he succeeded in getting to that hog, grabbing it by the hind leg, and started back in face of death itself. No one expected him to get in, but on he came, and finally jumped in the trench, hog and all, without even a scratch. It was one of the most marvelous feats, besides the most daring, of anything that I recollect happening. After this if anything was ever said to John in reference to his being a _little scary_ he would bring up the pig incident.

We remained in the trenches for some time before being relieved for a night, but at last our night came, and we were taken back to rest. We knew that Gen. Johnson Hagood's Brigade was somewhere on the line, and late in the afternoon Jim Diamond, Eddie Bellinger and myself got permission to go over to Hagood's brigade headquarters to see Vince Bellinger and Willie Hagood, who were in the brigade quartermaster department of Hagood's Brigade. We knew we would get something to eat and get something to bring back. We found them about sundown, and Vince and Willie told their man, Joe, a good old darkey, to commence preparing supper, and to fix enough of it. We sat around talking for a while, when Vince proposed that while Joe was fixing up the supper we should go right down the street to where he knew a fellow had something to drink.

These boys were located near the town--in fact, at the head of a street.

We pulled out, and in a few minutes Vince knocked on a door on the street. Almost instantly the door was opened, and in all five of us went. There was a long counter on one side of the house. The old man had no lights except a tallow candle. We stepped up near the front and Vince called for the liquor. The old man set out a decanter with only about four drinks--when the old fellow filled up for the fifth man to get his--it was a half gallon decanter--then the last one of us poured his out, leaving the decanter full, except the one drink. We took our drink, and Vince asked how much. The old fellow said, "Ten dollars each,"

making fifty dollars for the treat. Vince gave him a one hundred dollar bill. He picked up his candle, going back to the end of the counter to his safe for the change; but in doing this he had left the decanter setting on the counter. I told Vince to walk back and get the change; we would walk out. I picked up the full decanter, and as we walked out the door Vince overtook us, and we all went out together. However, we saw the old fellow, as he came back, hold up his light to look after his liquor. On discovering it gone, he jumped across the counter, following us. We were all in a dead run by this time. The old fellow was afraid to holler for police, as he was running what we now call a "blind tiger,"

but he followed us to the end of the street. When Vince picked up an old gun, and raising it, advanced on him, the old man then broke back as fast as he had come, leaving us with the liquor. We took another drink all around, when Joe told us to draw up, supper was ready. Joe had given us a good supper--hominy, fried bacon, biscuits and coffee--the best part of which was there was enough of it. We drank no more, for Vince and Willie asked us to carry some to Jim Hagood and Capt. Wood. They also told Joe to get us up some rations, and he put us up about a half of a side of bacon, about half a bushel of meal and some salt. We got back to our command some time about midnight, and it was not long before Jim Hagood had his boy, Crow, and Pat Wood his boy, Fred, making up a fire, and about two o'clock we had a supper. In the meantime all the whiskey had disappeared. We all slept late next morning, and about eleven o'clock we had breakfast. We went back into the trenches and remained there some time, when we were taken across the James River to meet a demonstration being made there.

CHAPTER XII.

It seems that our division (Fields'), especially our brigade, was selected and had ever been the troops to run from place to place. This I egotistically claim was because we were good on the march, always getting there quickly, and then, after getting there, we could be always depended upon to meet the emergency. Hence, we were not in the trenches so continuously as some others. We, from now on, were mostly below Richmond, taking care of Richmond from that side, but occasionally we would run over and take a day or two in the trenches, where we would be again pulled out for across the James River. So, after about a week in the trenches on this occasion, we were taken over the river, as Grant seemed to be preparing to attack from that direction. We remained quietly, doing nothing but keeping out our pickets for several days. For these few days we took up regular camp duty, except drilling. At roll call in the mornings Morrison and Stewart hardly ever answered. This got to be such a regular thing on all occasions, even when we were called to move, that our orderly sergeant, A. P. Manville, became so completely disgusted (for you could see disgust depicted on his face) that it was determined between Perry Manville, Capt. Wood and Col. Hagood that Morrison and Stewart should be a.s.signed to me as my company, I to see after them exclusively, being exempt from all other duty, only go when they had to go, and _to make them go_. This might seem an easy a.s.signment, but, take my word for it, it was the hardest job any poor fellow ever had. I would be up in the mornings before time, getting them up to be in time for roll call, and any other duties a.s.signed them I would be notified and had to get them out for it. But Perry Manville, who was a brave, good fellow, would put them both on duty at the same time, thereby saving me extra duty. He saw and appreciated the hard task I had. After lying around here for perhaps a week or more watching and waiting we were ordered to "fall in." Our company was at this time on the left of the regiment, and I and my two men were on the extreme left, which, when marching left in front, put me and mine at the head next to the colonel. In starting out this time, when Col. Hagood rode up to his position, he turned to me and said, "Sergt. Mixson, load your gun immediately and take those two men in this fight or leave them dead on the wayside." I loaded up, telling these two what to expect from me (they had heard my orders). We started off. I kept them up pretty well, and when we formed our line of battle on the hill overlooking Deep Bottom I had them in ranks. We remained on this hill while our skirmish line were holding them back in the bottom, our skirmishers retreating slowly. Gen. Lee was dismounted near us, awaiting the time to order us to charge. When it looked like the time had about come old Stewart got back pretty close to Gen. Lee, and, falling on his knees, said, "Let's all join in prayer," and he started off. He had hardly started good before the command was given, "Get to your places." Morrison went in ranks, but old man Stewart got louder. I called to him to get in. He got _louder_. I could not move him by calling, so I went up to him and, catching him by the shoulders, I pulled him back and almost had to drag him to his position. Lee looked on seemingly amused.

Well, we made the charge, meeting the enemy in the bottom. Here we fought them for some time, but finally retired to our former position on the hills. I don't think I got either Morrison or Stewart in this, but they were on hand when we got back on the hill. The enemy did not advance on us in our position, but fell back. We then went back and took up our quarters where we left the day before. Grant had failed here.

We remained here, without anything happening, doing picket duty and putting more logs on our fortifications, for something like three weeks, when the Yankees took another notion to go into Richmond over this route. Our cavalry, down at the Darbytown Road, discovered them on the move. As soon as this was reported to us our long roll routed us, and by sunrise we were off to look into matters. We ran upon their picket line about ten o'clock, drove them back and found them stationed behind the works that we had built there in 1862. We immediately charged these works, and took them with very little trouble, they giving way after a short fight. We followed them no further than the works we captured from them. By night we were back at our camps, not much worse off than when we went out. We again took up our regular routine of duties and had no more disturbance from this quarter. Everything remaining quiet over here, we were, about the last of September or first of October, taken back to Petersburg and again went into the trenches. We were placed where the "blow up" afterwards took place, and while we were here our engineers were counter-sinking shafts, endeavoring to discover where the enemy's mine struck our fortifications. The marksmen on the Yankee side had become very expert with both the rifle and mortars, and they were so accurate that mortar sh.e.l.ls would frequently fall in our trenches. For the information of those who do not know about mortar shooting I will explain. The mortar gun is a short cannon, say eighteen inches long, working in a carriage on a pivot and so arranged as to be shot at any angle, even to straight up. They had perfected themselves so that they knew the exact elevation to give the gun and the length of the fuse to explode it, as in many instances the cannon ball would fall in our trenches, and, exploding, would do much harm, and causing much confusion among us. Hence, it became necessary to keep a lookout, and when one of their guns was fired this "lookout" would keep his eye on the ball going up and coming over, and if it looked as if it were coming into the trenches at a certain place we would crowd away from the place that it seemed like hitting, thereby making room for it to fall and burst with as little damage as we had time and room to make.

On one occasion I was sitting with my back to the front of the trenches, flat down on the bottom of the trenches, with my oilcloth underneath me.

I had my man Morrison as "lookout," who was kneeling down facing the front just at my side. I heard the report of a mortar and saw Morrison p.r.i.c.k up his ears. Soon I saw him begin to get excited, and then he commenced to exclaim, "It's coming, it's coming, it's coming!" Knowing how scary he naturally was, I gave but little faith to him. His eyes, however, looked the size of saucers, and finally he fell over, exclaiming, "It's come," and the sh.e.l.l fell between my legs, my oilcloth keeping it from burying itself deep enough to retain it. There I was, a sh.e.l.l with a burning fuse, in between my legs. It was death to do nothing, death to run, not only for me, but for others. It was impossible to get away from the sh.e.l.l, and instinct told me to get the sh.e.l.l away from me and us. Without having time to think even, I arose with the sh.e.l.l in my hands and dumped it out of the trenches. I scarcely had time to squat down when it bursted. Being outside, no one was hurt.

I will take occasion to say here that this was no act of bravery. It was an inspiration that caused me to do it, and I was the worst scared fellow you ever saw, even more scared than Morrison or Stewart at any time. It took me a day or two to recover from the fright I got.

We remained in the trenches this time till about the first of November, when Grant again began to move around on the north side of the James.

Then we were taken out and carried over, and it was well for us that it was so, for the day after we left the mine was sprung and many, very many, killed, and on the same ground we had been and just left. History will tell you of this. I was not there. On the day before the mine was sprung the Yankees on the north side of the James had charged and taken Fort Harrison, which was being held by the militia from Virginia. And on the morning that the mine was sprung they made an a.s.sault on Fort Gilmore, which was three miles from Fort Harrison, and garrisoned by veterans from Virginia.

The a.s.sault was made to draw our forces from the trenches, hoping to get enough away to make the springing of the mine a success, and to draw our attention elsewhere. We left the trenches late in the afternoon, and, pa.s.sing Fort Harrison, leaving it to the right, went on to Fort Gilmore.

We marched all night, arriving near Fort Gilmore at daybreak, when we halted and were held as a reserve. The a.s.sault was made by negro troops, with white officers with pistols in their hands, forcing the negroes forward on pain of death. They made a creditable charge, a good many jumping in the ditch in front of the fort. One charge, however, satisfied them. About ten o'clock we went in and relieved the Virginians and remained there till after midnight, when we in turn were relieved and went down in front of Fort Harrison, arriving there just as day was breaking. On moving from Fort Gilmore to Fort Harrison, about three o'clock, before day, I took the company's canteens and went to a well we were pa.s.sing and filled up. This got me some little behind, and going down the road to overtake our command a solitary horseman overtook me. I discovered at once it was Gen. Lee. He said, "What are you doing behind, my little fellow?" And when I told him I had stopped at the well just pa.s.sed to fill the company's canteens he said, "Well, hurry and catch up; they will need you by daylight." When I did get up I told the boys we would have h---- by daylight, and told them that Gen. Lee had told me so.

In front of Fort Harrison we took our position in an old ditch trench which had been thrown up there perhaps a couple of years. This was not more than eight hundred yards in front of the fort. The Yankees had been reinforcing all night, and when day broke they were well garrisoned, with negro troops mostly. We remained in this position, awaiting the signal gun, when the advance on the Fort would be made from two sides.

Tige Anderson's Georgians were to lead the charge on the front, supported by our brigade (Bratton's). Two other brigades were to attack the side. Capt. Wood's boy, Fred, brought in breakfast, and Capt. Wood, Eddie Bellinger and myself sat down to eat. Capt. Wood hurried through, leaving Eddie and me. Then it was that Eddie said to me, "Frank, I will be killed this day. In an hour I will be a dead man." I told him if I felt that way I would go to Dr. Martin Bellinger, brigade surgeon, and be excused. He would not go. Just then the signal gun fired, and Tige Anderson, with his Georgians, led off, slowly at first. We were called to attention, and I missed Stewart. The negro boy, Fred, hearing me asking about him, said he had pa.s.sed Mr. Stewart a mile back. I turned to Morrison and told him if he did not go this time I swear I would kill him. I intended to keep my eye on him. We were now ordered to advance.

Anderson had started his charge, and as soon as we got straightened out, and after crossing the old ditch, we, too, charged. Now the Yankees were mowing Anderson down with grape and cannister, and we, being only a short distance behind, were getting the full benefit of every fire. I tell you, it was a grand sight to see our boy colonel. He was about the middle of the regiment, in front of it. We were at double quick. Jim Hagood kept his eyes on the fort, and when he saw smoke from a cannon, he would cry, "Down, First," at the same time falling flat himself. When the grape and cannister had pa.s.sed over he was the first up, and in that commanding voice, "Up, and forward, First." This he repeated more than half a dozen times. Anderson had now gotten to within about forty yards of the fort, where the firing was so fierce, furious and fatal. His men lay down. We kept on, and just before we reached them they commenced to holler to us to stop. Anderson was walking up and down, begging them to forward. Then he would curse them. About now Lieut. Best, of our company, said, "Frank, I am shot through the thigh." I told him to go back. He said no. Only a step or two and he was shot clear through on the right side, the ball entering about the nipple. He now turned to go back, but just as he turned another ball hit him in the back, about an inch below where the other ball had come out, pa.s.sing clear through, coming out where the other ball had entered. He now fell, and Sid Key, with another man with a litter, picked him up to take him off. As they raised him up another ball knocked off two of his toes, making four wounds for him. I think he is still alive--was a few years ago. When Lieut. Best fell we were pa.s.sing through Anderson's Brigade. I heard Anderson, as a last incentive to his men, say, "Georgia, you don't intend to let South Carolina beat you." I jumped up and hollered out, "Hurrah for South Carolina." But just as I struck the ground a ball struck me, and an old Georgian, who was lying flat on his belly, looking over his shoulder back at us, saw it and heard me, and said, "Oh, yes, G---- d---- South Carolina, now." This made such an impression on me that I have always believed that I would recognize that fellow's face wherever I saw it again. I was fortunately hit in the hand, breaking the knuckle of my forefinger on the left hand. I dropped my gun, and, running back to a pine, I got in behind it to examine how badly I was hurt, and when I discovered the bone shattered I pulled off my accoutrements, throwing them down, so I could have a good chance for running. Going only a short distance I heard the voice of Lieut. Col.

Ben Kirkland, and I pulled up to see what was the matter. He was standing over an officer of our regiment, a captain, cursing him for all kinds of coward, and told him if he did not get up and go on with his company he would wear him out with his sword. I saw him get up, then I lit out again. On getting back to where we had started, sitting there alone was Morrison, who told me that when Lieut. Best was. .h.i.t he left. I went on a little back to where the field hospital was located (the field hospital is only to receive the wounded, staunch the blood of those who are likely to bleed to death, put them in an ambulance, sending them back to the general hospital). While hanging around there I noticed someone brought up on a litter, who, upon being put down, beckoned to me. I went up to him, failing at first to recognize him; but upon close inspection I discovered Capt. Wood. He was shot directly below his nose, the ball pa.s.sing back lodged in the back of his neck, knocking out his teeth and lodging them in his tongue. He was terribly disfigured at that time, but was operated on that night, they cutting out the ball from his neck, taking his teeth out of his tongue, etc. After the war he looked nearly as handsome as ever, and he was a handsome man.

I went on down from the field hospital to the regiment, after they were driven back, and it was a poor sight, indeed--only ninety-three men were left in the entire regiment. Eddie Bellinger had fallen, leading the regiment in about thirty yards of the fort. When the colonel ordered the regiment to fall back he discovered his colors missing and saw them on the ground nearer the fort than he was. He ran up there and found Eddie dead with the colors gripped so hard that he had to pry his fingers open with his sword to get them away. This all happened in thirty yards of the fort, in an open field. The Yankees were so amazed at Col. Hagood's action that they did not shoot on him while he was doing this gallant deed. Col. Hagood then called Jim Diamond, who was not wounded, and turned the colors over to him. He brought them out. Next day the Yankees sent over a flag of truce, asking the name of the gallant officer who had rescued the colors--they buried Eddie with military honors.

I did not get my wound dressed until the day after the fight. That evening I went back to the general hospital. Dr. Wallace Bailey, from the Four Mile, our surgeon, glanced at it casually and told me he would cut off the finger when he had time--the surgeons were all busy that evening, all night and next day. Capt. Wood was operated on during the night and looked badly next morning. Many a poor fellow lost an arm or a leg out here. That night this hospital was cleaned up, all of us being loaded on boats and sent to the hospital in Richmond, reaching there some time about midnight, and were immediately unloaded into a large kind of warehouse that had been prepared with cots, etc., for a kind of reception hospital. Here we were seen after by the ladies, our wounds dressed, and nourishment given us. Those who were not too badly wounded were sent on next day to the regular hospital. I did not let Dr. Bailey cut off my finger. _I have it yet._

CHAPTER XIII.