The Story of a Cannoneer Under Stonewall Jackson Part 13

Rader, who drove the lead-horses at my gun almost throughout the war, is mentioned elsewhere, but his record, as well as his pranks and drollery, coupled with his taciturnity, were interesting. While sitting on his saddle-horse in one battle he was knocked full length to the ground by a bursting sh.e.l.l. When those nearby ran to pick him up they asked if he was much hurt. "No," he said, "I am just skeered to death." At Sharpsburg, while lying down, holding his gray mares, a sh.e.l.l tore a trench close alongside of him and hoisted him horizontally into the air.

On recovering his feet he staggered off, completely dazed by the concussion. In the first battle of Fredericksburg he was struck and disabled for a time. At Gettysburg, as the same animals, frightened by a bursting sh.e.l.l, wheeled to run, he seized the bridle of the leader just as it was struck by a sh.e.l.l, which burst at the moment, instantly killing the two grays and the two horses next to them, and stunning Rader as before. But, with all of his close calls, his skin was never broken. Instead of currying his horses during the time allotted for that work he seemed to occupy himself teaching them "tricks," but his was the best-groomed team in the battery.

While on guard one cold night, as the wagon drivers were sleeping quietly on a bed of loose straw near a blazing fire, I saw Rader creep up stealthily and apply a torch at several places, wait until it was well ignited, and then run and yell "Fire!" then repeat the sport an hour later. Vanpelt carried an enormous knapsack captured from Banks and branded "10th Maine." While halting on the march it was Rader's amus.e.m.e.nt, especially when some outsider was pa.s.sing by, to set his whip-stock as a prop under it, go through the motions of grinding, and rattle off the music of a hand-organ with his mouth until chased away by his victim. He mysteriously vanished from Rockbridge after the war, and has never since been located.

One of the most striking characters in the company was "General" Jake, as we called him, whose pa.s.sion for war kept him always in the army, while his aversion to battle kept him always in the rear. After serving a year with us, being over military age, he got a discharge, but soon joined the Rockbridge cavalry as a subst.i.tute, where six legs, instead of two, afforded three-fold opportunities. An interview between the "General" and one of our company, as he viewed the former and was struck with his appearance, was as follows:

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

The "General," with a graceful bow and a deep roll in his voice, replied, "Sire, in enumerating the items which go to const.i.tute a great general I notice the omission of one requisite, the absence of which in my outfit lost to the cause a genius in council and a mighty leader in battle."

"What was that, 'General'?"

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

Estimates of things are governed by comparison, and no better idea of the Southern army could be had than that given by a knowledge of its numbers, equipment, etc., as compared with those of its adversary throughout the four years of the war. This can be ill.u.s.trated by a sketch of the Rockbridge Artillery in that respect, beginning with its entrance into service, as a type of the whole army.

The guns with which this company set out from Lexington were two smooth-bore six-pound bra.s.s pieces used by Stonewall Jackson for drilling the cadets at the Virginia Military Inst.i.tute, which were coupled together and drawn by one pair of horses to Staunton. I must pause here and relate an incident which occurred at that period, in which these guns played a part. Among the cadets was one--Hountsell--who was considered as great an enigma as Jackson himself. In some of the various evolutions of the drill it was necessary for the cadets to trot.

This gait Hountsell failed to adopt, and was reported to the superintendent with the specification "for failing to trot." Hountsell handed in his written excuse as follows, "I am reported by Major Jackson for failing, at artillery drill, to trot. My excuse is, I am a natural pacer." It would be interesting to know the workings of Stonewall's mind when perusing this reply.

After reaching Harper's Ferry two more six-pound bra.s.s pieces were received for this battery from Richmond. As there were no caissons for these four guns, farm-wagons were used, into which boxes of ammunition, together with chests containing rations for the men, were loaded. In addition to friction-primers of modern invention at that time for firing cannon, the old-time "slow matches" and "port-fires" were in stock. So that, in preparing for battle with General Patterson's army at Hainesville on July 2, 1861, the ammunition-boxes, provision-chests, etc., being loaded indiscriminately into the same wagon, were all taken out and placed on the ground. The "port-fire," adjusted in a bra.s.s tube on the end of a wooden stick, was lighted, and the stick stuck in the ground by the gun, to give a light in case the friction-primer failed.

This provision was due to the fact that Captain Pendleton was familiar with the "port-fire," in vogue when he attended West Point. On finding that the friction-primer was reliable, the "port-fires" were left sticking in the ground when the guns withdrew, and were captured and taken as curiosities by the Federals.

After returning to Winchester, ammunition-chests were ordered to be made by a carpenter of the town. Gen. Joe Johnston, then in command of the forces, went in person with Lieutenant Poague, and, as the latter expressed it, reprimanded this carpenter most unmercifully for his tardiness in the work. The chests were then quickly completed and placed on wagon-gears, which outfits served as caissons, and thus equipped the battery marched to and fought at first Mana.s.sas. From captures there made, these crude contrivances were replaced with regular caissons, and for two of the six-pound bra.s.s pieces two rifled ten-pound Parrotts were subst.i.tuted and two heavier six-pound bra.s.s pieces added, making a six-gun battery. Also the farm-wagon harness was exchanged for regular artillery harness.

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

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

The battery's connection with the Stonewall Brigade was severed October 1, at the close of the memorable campaign of 1862, and under the new regime became a part of the First Regiment Virginia Artillery, commanded by Col. J. Thompson Brown, afterward by Col. R. A. Hardaway. This regiment was made up of the second and third companies of Richmond Howitzers, the Powhatan battery commanded by Captain Dance, the Roanoke battery commanded by Captain Griffin, and Rockbridge battery commanded by Captain Graham, with four guns to each of the five batteries.

Our new companions proved to be a fine lot of men, and with them many strong and lasting friends.h.i.+ps were formed.

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

The Rockbridge Artillery traveled by rail from Staunton to Strasburg. On their march of eighteen miles from there to Winchester they were preceded by the "Grayson Dare-devils" of Virginia, one hundred strong, armed with Mississippi rifles and wearing red-flannel s.h.i.+rts. A mile or two in advance of this company was the Fourth Alabama Regiment, numbering eight hundred men. The regiment, on its arrival at Newtown, a small village six miles from Winchester, was provided by the citizens with a sumptuous dinner. Then the "Dare-devils" were likewise entertained; but still the supplies and hospitality of the people were not exhausted, as the battery, on its arrival, was served with a bountiful meal.

When the battery reached Winchester their two small guns were stored for the night in a warehouse, and the men lodged and entertained in private houses. On the following day the company went by rail to Harper's Ferry, arriving there after dark. The place was then under command of Col. T.

J. Jackson, who was soon after superseded by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston.

The trains over the B. & O. Railroad were still running. Evidences of the John Brown raid were plainly visible, and the engine-house in which he and his men barricaded themselves and were captured by the marines, commanded by Col. R. E. Lee, of the United States Army, stood as at the close of that affair.

One or both sections of the battery were often engaged in picket service along the Potomac between Shepherdstown and Williamsport, in connection with the Second Virginia Regiment, which was composed of men from the adjoining counties. Their camps and bivouacs were constantly visited by the neighboring people, especially ladies, who came by the score in carriages and otherwise, provided with abundant refreshments for the inner man. As described by those who partic.i.p.ated in it all, the days pa.s.sed as a series of military picnics, in which there was no suspicion or suggestion of the serious times that were to follow. During the progress of the war, while these outward demonstrations, of necessity, diminished, the devotion on the part of the grand women of that war-swept region only increased.

I have not undertaken to describe scenes or relate incidents which transpired in the battery before I became a member of it. But there is one scene which was often referred to by those who witnessed it which is worthy of mention. It occurred in the fall of 1861, near Centerville, when a portion of the army, under Gen. Joe Johnston, was returning from the front, where an attack had been threatened, and was pa.s.sing along the highway. A full moon was s.h.i.+ning in its splendor, lighting up the rows of stacked arms, parks of artillery, and the white tents which dotted the plain on either side. As column after column, with bands playing and bayonets glistening, pa.s.sed, as it were, in review, there came, in its turn, the First Maryland Regiment headed by its drum corps of thirty drums rolling in martial time. Next came the First Virginia Regiment with its superb band playing the "Mocking-Bird," the shrill strains of the cornet, high above the volume of the music, pouring forth in exquisite clearness the notes of the bird. Scarcely had this melody pa.s.sed out of hearing when there came marching by, in gallant style, the four batteries of the Was.h.i.+ngton Artillery, of New Orleans, with officers on horseback and cannoneers mounted on the guns and caissons, all with sabers waving in cadence to the sound of their voices, singing, in its native French, "The Ma.r.s.eillaise," that grandest of all national airs.

The younger generation cannot comprehend, and express surprise that the old soldiers never forget and are so wrought up by the recollections of their war experiences; but to have partic.i.p.ated in a scene such as this will readily explain why a soul should thrill at its recurring mention.

In 1883, nearly twenty years after the war, I was called to c.u.mberland, Maryland, on business. By reason of a reunion of the Army of the c.u.mberland being held there at the time, the hotels were crowded, making it necessary for me to find accommodations in a boarding-house.

Sitting around the front door of the house, as I entered, were half a dozen Federal soldiers discussing war-times. The window of the room to which I was a.s.signed opened immediately over where the men sat, and as I lay in bed I heard them recount their experiences in battle after battle in which I had taken part. It stirred me greatly. Next morning they had gone out when I went down to breakfast, but I told the lady of the house of my interest in their talk of the previous night. At noon the same party was sitting in the hall, having finished their dinners, as I pa.s.sed through to mine. They greeted me cordially and said, "We heard of what you said about overhearing us last night; take a seat and let's discuss old times." My answer was, "I have met you gentlemen already on too many battlefields with an empty stomach, so wait till I get my dinner." With a hearty laugh this was approved of, and I joined them soon after. Most of them were from Ohio and West Virginia. They said, though, as I was but one against six, to say what I pleased; and for an hour or more we discussed, good-humoredly, many scenes of mutual interest.

The following lines are recalled from Merrick's songs:

"Och hone, by the man in the moon!

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

"Och hone, don't provoke me to do it, For there are girls by the score That would have me and more.

Sure there's Katy Nale, that would jump if I'd say, 'Katy Nale, name the day.'

And though you are fresh and fair as the flowers in May, And she's short and dark as a cowld winter's day, If you don't repent before Easter, when Lent Is over, I'll marry for spite."

SAINT PATRICK

"A fig for St. Denis of France!

He's a trumpery fellow to brag on.

A fig for St. George and his lance!

Who splitted a heathenish dragon.

The saints of the Welshman and Scot Are a pair of pitiful pipers, Both of whom may just travel to pot, Compared with the patron of swipers-- St. Patrick of Ireland, my boy!

"Och! he came to the Emerald Isle On a lump of a paving-stone mounted; The steamboat he beat by a mile, Which mighty good sailing was counted.

Said he, 'The salt-water, I think, Makes me most bloodily thirsty, So fetch me a flagon of drink To wash down the mullygrubs, burst ye!

A drink that is fit for a saint.'

"The pewter he lifted _in sport_, And, believe me, I tell you no fable, A gallon he drank from the quart And planted it down on the table.

'A miracle!' every one cried, And they all took a pull at the stingo.

They were capital hands at the trade, And they drank till they fell; yet, by jingo!

The pot still frothed over the brim.

"'Next day,' quoth his host, 'is a fast And there is naught in my larder but mutton.

On Friday who would serve such repast, Except an unchristianlike glutton?'

Says Pat, 'Cease your nonsense, I beg; What you tell me is nothing but gammon.

Take my compliments down to the leg And bid it walk hither, a salmon.'

The leg most politely complied.

"Oh! I suppose you have heard, long ago, How the snakes, in a manner quite antic, He marched from the County Mayo And trundled them into the Atlantic.

So not to use water for drink, The people of Ireland determined.

And for a mighty good reason, I think, Since St. Patrick has filled it with vermin And vipers and other such stuff.

"The people, with wonderment struck At a pastor so pious and civil, Cried, 'We are for you, my old buck!

And we'll pitch our blind G.o.ds to the devil Who dwells in hot water below.'

"Och! he was an iligant blade As you'd meet from Fairhead to Killkrumper, And, though under the sod he is laid, Here goes his health in a b.u.mper!

I wish he was here, that my gla.s.s He might, by art-magic, replenish-- But as he is not, why, alas!

My ditty must come to a finish, Because all the liquor is out."