The Story of a Cannoneer Under Stonewall Jackson Part 15

On arriving at camp I was the first to bring tidings of what had occurred to the company, and observed the varying effect produced on the different members, officers and men. To some it came as relief after long suspense, while others seemed hopelessly cast down and dejected.

Orders to prepare to move soon followed, and our march to and through Richmond began with only two of our four guns, the other two being left behind for want of horses.

We reached the city shortly before midnight, and, with Estill Waddell, of our battalion, I pa.s.sed by the home of some friends, who, we found, had retired for the night. In response to my call, the head of the house appeared at an upper window. I had with me the few valuables I possessed, among them the bra.s.s b.u.t.ton worn on my jacket and indented by the sh.e.l.l at second Cold Harbor. These I tossed into the yard, with the request that he would keep them for me. And, some months after the war, the package was sent to me in Lexington.

We could now see and realize what the evacuation of Richmond involved.

Waddell had learned that his brother James, adjutant of the Twenty-fourth Virginia Infantry, had been wounded the day before at Petersburg, and was in the Chimborazo Hospital. At this we soon arrived, and entered a large apartment with low ceiling and brilliantly lighted. On row after row of cots lay wounded men, utterly oblivious and indifferent to the serious conditions that disturbed those of us who realized what they were. Nurses and attendants were extremely scarce, and as deep silence prevailed as if each cot contained a corpse.

After a search of a few moments Waddell recognized his brother in sound sleep. His appearance for manly beauty, as we stood over him, surpa.s.sed that of any figure I have ever seen. His slight, graceful form stretched at full length, a snow-white forehead fringed with dark hair, and chin resting on his chest, he lay like an artist's model rather than a wounded warrior, and the smile with which his brown eyes opened at the sound of his brother's voice betokened the awakening from a dream of peace and home. On another cot, a few steps farther on, I recognized John McClintic, of the Rockbridge Cavalry, and brother of my messmate.

He was a boy of seventeen, with his arm shattered at the shoulder. On the cot next to him lay a man who was dying. McClintic and the others near him who could make their wants known were almost famished for water, a bucket of which, after much difficulty, we secured for them. On the following day this young fellow, rather than be left in the hands of the Federals, rode in an ox-cart and walked twenty miles, and finally reached his home in Rockbridge.

After leaving the hospital we pa.s.sed on to Main street and the business part of the city, where the scene would remind one of Bulwer's description of "The Last Days of Pompeii." The storehouses had been broken into and stood wide open, and fires had been kindled out of the goods boxes, on the floors, to afford light to plunder. Articles of liquid nature, especially intoxicants, had been emptied into the gutters, from which such portions as could be rescued were being greedily sought.

From dark garrets and cellars the old hags and half-starved younger women and children had gathered, and were reaping a harvest such as they had never dreamed of. I saw a small boy, with an old, wrinkled, grinning woman at his heels, steer a barrel of flour around a corner and into a narrow alley with the speed and skill of a roustabout. The fire on the floors had not extended to the structures as we pa.s.sed, but as no one seemed in the least concerned or interfered with their progress the flames soon put in their work and spread in all directions.

We crossed the James on Mayo's Bridge, following the road in a southwesterly direction. With the first appearance of dawn the blowing up of the naval vessels in the river began, culminating in a gigantic explosion that made the earth tremble. This last was the magazine at Drewry's Bluff.

Witnessing such scenes, with a realization of their significance, in the early part of our war experience would, no doubt, have been hopelessly demoralizing, but now the calmness and fort.i.tude with which we took it demonstrated the fact that four years of such schooling had seasoned us to meet unflinchingly the most desperate situations. When broad daylight came we had the opportunity of seeing some of the heterogeneous elements of which Richmond was composed. Disaster had come too suddenly to afford time beforehand for the non-combatants to migrate, even if there had been safe places to which to flee.

That such looking objects should have undertaken to accompany an army in the field, or rather into the fields, indicated what desperate chances they were willing to take rather than abandon themselves to a doubtful fate by remaining behind. In addition to the city contingent and those who garrisoned the forts where heavy ordnance only was used, the line of march was joined by the marine department, which had been doing duty on the river craft about Dutch Gap, Drewry's and Chaffin's bluffs, etc.

Altogether, it was a motley combination, which afforded much amus.e.m.e.nt and the usual sallies of wit at each other's expense. The marine element was the most striking in appearance, and enc.u.mbered with enough baggage for a voyage to the North Pole. In three days' time this had all been discarded.

After marching day and night the two wings of our army, having been separated since the previous summer, united at Amelia Court House, about 40 miles from Richmond. Ours--that is, the one from the north side of the river--had not been pressed by the enemy up to this point. As if in recognition of and to celebrate the reunion, an explosion took place far too violent for an ordinary salute. During a short halt, while the road was filled with infantry and artillery side by side, we felt the earth heave under our feet, followed instantly by a terrific report, and then a body of fire and flame, a hundred feet in diameter, shot skyward from beyond an intervening copse of woods. It proved to be the blowing up of sixty caissons, one hundred and eighty chests of ammunition, which could not be hauled farther for want of horses. For a moment the roar and concussion produced consternation. Those who were standing crouched as if for something to cling to, and those sitting sprang to their feet.

The Crater affair at Petersburg had not been forgotten, and that we should be hurled into s.p.a.ce by some infernal eruption flashed into our minds.

Provisions had been ordered by General Lee over the railroad from Danville to Amelia Court House in readiness for the army on its arrival there. By some misunderstanding, or negligence on the part of the railroad management, these supplies had gone on to Richmond, so that all expectation of satisfying hunger was now gone. Corn on the cob had already been issued to the men, which, it may be presumed, was to be eaten raw, as no time nor means for parching it was available. Three of these "nubbins," which had been preserved, I saw many years after the war.

After trudging along, with short halts and making very little progress, our battery of only two guns went into park about midnight, but without unhitching the horses. After being roused several times from sleep to march, I concluded, after the third false alarm, to lie still. When I awoke some time later the battery had moved and, in the dim light, I failed to find the course it had taken. Following on for some distance I came to General Lee's headquarters in a farmhouse by the roadside, and was informed by Capt. James Garnett, one of the staff, that the battery would soon pa.s.s along the road at the point we then were. Sitting down with my back against a tree I, of course, fell asleep. From this I was shortly roused by rapid firing close by, and saw our wagon-train scattered and fleeing across the fields, with horses at a run and hotly pursued by Federal cavalry, who, with reins on their horses' necks, were firing at them with repeating guns. I was overlooked and pa.s.sed by in the chase as too small game for them.

The road over which I had pa.s.sed was in the form of a semi-circle, and to escape I obliqued across the fields to a point I had gone over an hour or two before, where it crossed Sailor's Creek. Along the road, ascending the hill on the south side of the creek, I found several brigades of our infantry, commanded by Ex-Governor Billy Smith, Gen.

Custis Lee and Colonel Crutchfield, halted in the road and exposed to a sharp artillery fire, which, notwithstanding the fact that the place was heavily wooded, was very accurate and searching. Colonel Crutchfield was killed here, his head being taken off by a solid shot. This was not a comfortable place in which to linger while waiting for the battery, but comfortable places in that neighborhood seemed exceedingly scarce.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JOHN M. BROWN]

Very soon my friend, Henry Wise, who was a lieutenant in Huger's battalion of artillery, appeared on horseback and informed me that almost all of the cannoneers of his battalion had just been captured and that he was then in search of men to take their places. I offered my services, and, following the directions he gave, soon found his guns, and was a.s.signed to a number at one of them by Lieut. George Poindexter, another old acquaintance of Lexington.

The infantry at this part of the line was what was left of Pickett's division, among whom I recognized and chatted with other old friends of the Virginia Military Inst.i.tute as we sat resignedly waiting for the impending storm to burst. The Federal cavalry which had pa.s.sed me previously in pursuit of our wagons, quartermasters, etc., was part of a squadron that had gotten in rear of Pickett's men and given General Pickett and staff a hot chase for some distance along the line of his command. Some of their men and horses were killed in their eagerness to overhaul the General. It was perfectly evident that our thin line of battle was soon to be a.s.saulted, as the enemy's skirmishers were advancing on our front and right flank and his cannon sweeping the position from our left. We were not long in suspense. Almost simultaneously we were raked by missiles from three directions. To have offered resistance would have been sheer folly. In fifteen minutes the few survivors of Pickett's immortal division had been run over and captured, together with the brigades which were posted on their left.

Lieutenant Wise having failed to receive any other cannoneers to replace those previously captured, the guns, without firing a shot, were left standing unlimbered. As we started in haste to retire, he and Poindexter being mounted, expressed great concern lest I, being on foot, should be captured. Just as they left me, however, and while the air seemed filled with flying lead and iron, I came upon one of the ambulance corps who was trying to lead an unruly horse. It was a Federal cavalry horse, whose rider had been killed in pursuit of General Pickett. In the horse's efforts to break loose, the two saddles he was carrying had slipped from his back and were dangling underneath, which increased his fright. I suggested to the man that, to escape capture, he had better give me the horse, as he seemed to be afraid to ride him. To this he readily a.s.sented, and, with his knife, cut one saddle loose, set the other on his back, and handed me the halter-strap as I mounted. The terrified animal, without bridle or spur, was off like a flash, and in a few minutes had carried me out of the melee. I still have and prize the saddle. The few who escaped from this affair, known as the battle of Sailor's Creek, by retreating a mile north came in proximity to another column of our troops marching on a parallel road.

As I rode up I saw General Lee dismounted and standing on a railroad embankment, intently observing our fleeing men, who now began to throng about him. He very quietly but firmly let them know that it would be best not to collect in groups; the importance of which they at once understood and acted on.

Approaching night, which on previous occasions, when conditions were reversed, had interfered to our disadvantage, now s.h.i.+elded us from further pursuit. It can readily be seen what demoralization would follow such an exhibition of our utter helplessness. But still there seemed to be no alternative but to prolong the agony, although perfectly a.s.sured that we could not escape death or capture, and that in a very brief time. Soon after nightfall I found our battery, which had traveled over a shorter and less exposed road, and thereby escaped the adventures which had fallen to my lot. Our course was now toward High Bridge, which spans the Appomattox River near Farmville. On we toiled throughout the night, making very slow progress, but not halting until near noon the following day. Under present conditions there were not the ordinary inducements to make a halt, as food for man and beast was not in evidence. I had not eaten a bite for forty-eight hours. Notwithstanding this, and as if to draw attention from our empty stomachs, orders came to countermarch and meet a threatened attack on the line in our rear. To this the two guns with their detachments promptly responded, reported to General Mahone and took part with his division in a spirited battle at c.u.mberland Church.

It has been stated, by those who had opportunities of knowing, that Mahone's division was never driven from its position in battle throughout the four years of the war. True or not, it held good in this case, and those of our battery who took part with them were enthusiastic over the gallant fight they made under circ.u.mstances that were not inspiring. There being a surplus of men to man our two guns, Lieut. Cole Davis and Billy McCauley procured muskets and took part with the infantry sharpshooters. McCauley was killed. He was a model soldier, active and wiry as a cat and tough as a hickory sapling. He had seen infantry service before joining our battery, and, as already mentioned, had "rammed home" one hundred and seventy-five sh.e.l.ls in the first battle of Fredericksburg. Another member of our company, Launcelot Minor, a boy of less than eighteen years, was shot through the lungs by a Minie-ball. Although he was thought to be dying, our old ambulance driver, John L. Moore, insisted on putting him into the ambulance, in which he eventually hauled him to his home in Albemarle County, fifty or sixty miles distant. After some days he regained consciousness, recovered entirely, and is now a successful and wealthy lawyer in Arkansas, and rejoices in meeting his old comrades at reunions. His first meeting with Moore after the incident related above was at a reunion of our company in Richmond thirty years after the war, and their greeting of each other was a memorable one.

CHAPTER XXIX

APPOMATTOX

Another night was now at hand, and while it might be supposed that nothing could be added to intensify the suspense there certainly was nothing to allay it. Although there was little left to destroy, we pa.s.sed heaps of burning papers, abandoned wagons, etc., along the roadsides.

As each new scene or condition in our lives gives rise to some new and corresponding feeling or emotion, our environment at this time was such as to evoke sensations of dread and apprehension hitherto unknown.

Moving parallel with us, and extending its folds like some huge reptile, was an army equipped with the best the world could afford--three-fold greater in numbers than our own--which in four years had never succeeded in defeating us in a general battle, but which we had repeatedly routed and driven to cover. Impatient of delay in effecting our overthrow in battle, in order to starve us out, marauding bands had scoured the country, leaving ashes and desolation in their wake.

That now their opportunity to pay up old scores had come, we fully realized, and antic.i.p.ated with dread the day of reckoning. General Grant, who was Commander-in-Chief of all the Federal armies, and at present personally in command of the army about us, was by no means regarded as a man of mercy. He had positively refused to exchange prisoners, thousands of whom on both sides were languis.h.i.+ng and dying in the hands of their captors. It should be borne in mind, in this connection, that the offers to exchange had come from the Confederate authorities, and for the last two years of the war had been invariably rejected by the Federal Government. In the campaign beginning in May, 1864, and ending with the evacuation of Richmond, Grant's army had sustained a loss greater in number than that of the whole army opposed to him.

Among the ranks were foreigners of every nationality. I had seen, as prisoners in our hands, a whole brigade of Germans who could not speak a word of English. During the preceding winter we had been confronted with regiments of our former slaves. Our homes and people we were leaving behind to the mercy of these hordes, as if forever.

Another and by no means unimportant consideration was whether to remain and meet results with the command, or for each man to s.h.i.+ft for himself.

Setting out from Richmond on the preceding Sunday, with no acc.u.mulation of vigor to draw on, we had pa.s.sed a week with food and sleep scarcely sufficient for one day; and to cope with such exigencies as now confronted us, what a part the stomach does play! All in all, it was a situation of a lifetime that will ever abide in the gloomy recesses of memory. About eight o'clock on Sunday morning, April 9, as our two guns were entering the little village of Appomattox, several cannon-shots sounded in quick succession immediately in our front. Without word of command we came to our last halt.

Turning out of the road we went into park, unhitched our hungry horses, and awaited developments. During the two preceding days several written communications had pa.s.sed between Generals Lee and Grant, of which we knew nothing. Our suspense, however, was soon interrupted by the appearance of a Confederate officer, accompanied by a Federal officer with long, flowing yellow hair, and waving a white handkerchief as they galloped by. This was General Custer, of cavalry fame, and the conspicuous hero and victim of the Indian ma.s.sacre, which bore his name, in Idaho ten years later.

Several sharp encounters had occurred during the morning, in which our men displayed the same unflinching valor, capturing in a charge a Federal major-general (Gregg) and two pieces of artillery; but now all firing had ceased, and the stillness that followed was oppressive. As soon as it became known that General Lee had surrendered, although for days it had been perfectly understood that such a result was inevitable, there was for a time no little excitement and commotion among the men. That we should be subjected to abhorrent humiliation was conceived as a matter of course, and, to avoid it, all sorts of efforts and plans to escape were discussed. The one controlling influence, however, to allay such a feeling was the unbounded and unimpaired confidence in General Lee. The conduct and bearing of the men were characterized by the same sterling qualities they had always displayed.

The only exhibition of petulance that I witnessed was by a staff officer who bore no scars or other evidence of hards.h.i.+ps undergone, but who acquired great reputation after the war. He "could not submit to such degradation," etc., threw away his spurs and chafed quite dramatically.

When a bystander suggested that we cut our way out, he objected that we had no arms. "We can follow those that have," was the reply, "and use the guns of those that fall!" He did not accede to the proposition; but later I heard him insist that one of our drivers should let him have his spurs, as he, the driver, would have no further use for them; but he did not get the spurs.

By noon, or soon thereafter, the terms of the surrender were made known--terms so generous, considerate, and unlooked-for as scarcely believed to be possible. None of that exposure to the gaze and exultation of a victorious foe, such as we had seen pictured in our school-books, or as practised by conquering nations in all times. We had felt it as not improbable that, after an ordeal of mortifying exposure for the gratification of the military, we would be paraded through Northern cities for the benefit of jeering crowds. So, when we learned that we should be paroled, and go to our homes unmolested, the relief was unbounded.

Early in the afternoon General Lee, mounted on "Traveler" and clad in a spotless new uniform, pa.s.sed along on his return from an interview with General Grant. I stood close by the roadside, along which many of his old soldiers had gathered, in antic.i.p.ation of his coming, and, in a life of more than three-score years, with perhaps more than ordinary opportunities of seeing inspiring sights, both of G.o.d's and man's creation, the impression and effect of General Lee's face and appearance as he rode by, hat in hand, stands pre-eminent. A few of the men started to cheer, but almost instantly ceased, and stood in silence with the others--all with heads bared.

The favorable and entirely unexpected terms of surrender wonderfully restored our souls; and at once plans, first for returning to our homes, and then for starting life anew, afforded ample interest and entertainment. One of the privileges granted in the terms of surrender was the retention, by officers and cavalrymen, of their own horses. My recent acquisition at Sailor's Creek had put me in possession of a horse, but to retain him was the difficulty, as I was neither officer nor cavalryman. Buoyed up with the excitement of bursting sh.e.l.ls and the noise of battle, he had carried me out gamely, but, this over, there was but little life in him. I transferred the saddle and bridle to a horse abandoned in the road with some artillery, and left my old benefactor standing, with limbs wide apart and head down, for his original owners.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FAC-SIMILE OF PAROLE SIGNED BY GENERAL PENDLETON]

To accomplish my purpose of going out with a horse, two obstacles had first to be overcome. Being only a cannoneer, I was not supposed to own a horse, so I must be something else. I laid the case before General Pendleton, our old neighbor in Lexington, and my former school-teacher.

It was rather late to give me a commission, but he at once appointed me a courier on his staff, and as such I was paroled, and still have the valued little paper, a _fac-simile_ of which is shown opposite.

The next difficulty to be met, the horse I had exchanged for was branded C. S., and, even if allowed to pa.s.s then, I feared would be confiscated later. There was a handsome sorrel, also branded C. S., among our battery horses, to which Lieut. Ned Dandridge, of General Pendleton's staff, had taken a fancy. For the sorrel he subst.i.tuted a big, bony young bay of his own. I replaced the bay with my C. S. horse, and was now equipped for peace. The branded sorrel was soon taken by the Federals.

After resting and fattening my bay, I sold him for a good price, and was thus enabled to return to Was.h.i.+ngton College and serve again under General Lee.

APPENDIX

Under an act of the General a.s.sembly of Virginia, 1898, the Camps of Confederate Veterans, organized in the several cities and towns of the Commonwealth, were authorized to prepare lists of the citizens of their respective counties who served as soldiers during the war between the States, and of those belonging to such companies, and these lists were to be duly recorded by the Clerks of the County Courts of the counties and kept among the Court Records. The following list is taken from this record, and is as nearly accurate as is possible at this date:

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY

ROLL OF COMPANY [The names with a star prefixed are the men from Rockbridge County.]