Capt. Robert H. Bane
During the sojourn at Fairfax, a detachment under Lieutenant Allen, of the 28th Virginia, was sent to the station on the railway to guard some baggage and stores deposited there. Of this detachment was John R. Crawford, of our company, who for true physical courage, bravery and self-possession, had scarce an equal; indeed, it was often said of him that he knew no fear—did not know what it meant—never dreamed nor imagined what danger was; that he felt as much at ease in the storm of battle as when resting quietly in the camp. The reader doubtless has heard of the "Louisiana Tigers," who in the first battle of Manassas, when closing with the enemy, threw down their muskets and rushed upon the enemy with their bowie-knives. They were a dangerous, blood-thirsty set—at least so reputed. It was two of these same "Tigers" who found Crawford on guard over the baggage and stores above referred to, which they proposed to appropriate. Crawford warned them to stand off and go away. They paid no heed to the warnings, but persisted in their purpose. Crawford then reversed his musket and downed the man nearest to him, who fell trembling and bleeding at his feet; whereupon his companion quickly advanced to his rescue, but Crawford's belligerent attitude caused him to beat a hasty retreat.
The Winter of 1861-1862 was spent at Centerville in camp, our quarters being constructed of log huts with wooden chimneys. The Winter was cold and dreary, and we had some difficulty in keeping a supply of rations, which had to be transported from the junction six miles away by wagons over a road deep in mud and mire.
Owing to the difficulty of distinguishing our Virginia state flag from many flags of other states carried by the enemy in the battle of Manassas, whereby we had been threatened with serious consequences, such as occurred with our own brigade on that field: it became necessary to have a flag uniform in design for all the Confederate army. Such a flag was designed by Colonel Miles, of South Carolina, and presented by General Beauregard to the army. This flag was about twenty-two inches square, the field red, with blue stripes from corner to corner at right angles, with thirteen white stars; and was ever after our battle flag.
Again we were on picket, Crawford on outpost, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout, as the enemy was near, but not to shoot without calling "halt" the usual three times, and if no halt made, to shoot. Shortly after Crawford took post, his cries of "Halt! Halt! Halt!" were heard, and bang! went his gun. The corporal ran to see what was the matter: he found Crawford standing quietly at his post as if nothing had happened—a stray fat hog had wandered to the post and had not halted at Crawford's command, consequently was dead. Crawford's only explanation was, "I obeyed orders." The hog was roasted, with many compliments for Crawford, and all had a feast.
Our duties in camp during the Winter were not onerous, save quarter guard in inclement weather, especially rain and extreme cold, for it will be remembered that we had no shelter on quarter guard post—that is, none while on post and on the beat, as a guard must always be in the open, both as to weather and to the foe. The guards were divided into three reliefs: the first went on at 9 o'clock A.M., the second at 11, the third at 1. This order was observed during the twenty-four hours. When off post we were required to remain at the guard house, unless by special permission of the officer of the guard. The quarter guard were supposed to be the special custodians of the quiet and safety of the camp. The mode of placing guard on post was as follows: A sergeant or corporal commenced at the top of the roll, the number of men being equal to the number of posts. Beginning with post number one, we marched around the entire camp, relieving each sentinel with a new man. When this was to be performed at night, the countersign (a pass word adopted at army headquarters and transmitted to the various subordinates) was delivered in a whisper to the guards by the officers thereof, so that as the sergeant with the relief guard approached the sentry, he was required to halt and give the countersign.
Colonel Kemper, still a member of the General Assembly of Virginia, was absent for the greater part of the Winter. Lieutenant-Colonel L. B. Williams, a rigid disciplinarian, who was left in command, endeavored by watchfulness, to have everything done in strict military style; frequently visiting the guard house, having the officer turn out the guard, call the roll, and woe to the man absent or out of line when his name was called. Punishment was sure to follow in the way of double duty or otherwise. On one occasion Lieutenant Anderson and W. H. Layton, having both imbibed too freely, took a jaunt to the guard house, where they had no business, and here Colonel Williams, on one of his visits, found them. Layton was placed in the guard house and the lieutenant in arrest.
During this stay in Winter quarters, Privates Mays, Farley, Thompson and John W. East had an altercation, the last (save two) which occurred in the company. It was not an uncommon thing for the soldiers to discuss the conduct of the war, the remissness and failure of commanders, the probabilities and improbabilities of success, peace, the plan of battles, and the war policy, offensive and defensive. A discussion of this kind is well remembered as having occurred between Lieutenant Gibson, then officer of the day; Corporal Stone, Sergeant Peters, Sarver, Hare and others, in the quarters of my mess, while at Centerville. It was at night; the boys had gotten in a little stimulant. Lieutenant Gibson dropped in, and with the others, imbibing freely, began in a very serious way the discussion of the surest and quickest way or mode of ending the war, and restoring peace to our distracted country. After much discussion pro and con, which lasted practically throughout the night, Corporal Stone submitted a plan to which all readily assented, and which was as follows: To "attack immediately General McClellan's army, drive it from Arlington Heights, capture the Federal capital, then propose an armistice and congress of the states." Stone was for starting that night, for prompt and aggressive action, but Peters favored postponement until morning, which was by this time at hand. Just then the long roll sounded to arms, and a march toward Washington, sure enough, began, but with only our regiment. And, oh! such headaches as Stone, Peters, Gibson and the others in the war council had, and how formidable and impregnable now appeared Arlington, which a few hours before was to them but a mole hill. Our mission was to relieve a Louisiana regiment then on picket near Fairfax, where we remained for a week, occupying the quarters just vacated by the Louisianians. Here it was that we formed our first acquaintance with the "graybacks," which filled our clothing and blankets, much to our discomfort. Oh! the digging under the shirt collar, under the arm pits, and every point where the cruel pest found the flesh of the poor soldier. It was a difficult matter to rid ourselves of them—they seemed over anxious to remain with us. Nothing short of boiling them hard in water got rid of them. The next Summer on the peninsula, in the swamps of the Chickahominy, and around Richmond, we had them in abundance, the boys often saying that they had stamped upon their backs the letters, "I.F.W.," which, interpreted, meant "In for the war."
During our stay in Winter quarters at Centerville, there was little, if any, preaching or religious exercises, as there was no place to have public services, and the weather was too severe to hold services in the open. The mess of J. Tyler Frazier, in which were Thomas S. Taylor, James B. Henderson, F. H. Farley, John F. Jones, William C. Fortner, Joseph Eggleston, James Eggleston, and perhaps others, never neglected their religious duties, and in quarters invariably read a chapter of the Bible, sang a hymn, and prayed before retiring at night. These men, by their upright conduct, observance of their religious duties, their Christian character and conversation, had great influence over their comrades, and especially upon the conduct and morals of the company.
The expiration of the term of service, twelve months, of most of the men was rapidly approaching; the ranks having been much depleted by sickness, death and other causes. No adequate provision had yet been made for the retention of those already in the field, or for the filling of the ranks. It was evident that if the war was to be prolonged, and the contest maintained, we must have an army. With one year's service many were satisfied; the fever had worn off, enthusiasm was on the wane. The government, to induce re-enlistment, was offering fifty dollars bounty and thirty-day furlough. Quite a number availed themselves of an opportunity to go home by accepting the bounty and re-enlisting. Some eighteen of Company D took advantage of the offer, among them E. M. Stone, John D. Hare, J. W. Mullins, A. L. Fry, J. W. Hight, John W. East, R. H. Bane, J. B. Young, Tom Young, W. H. Layton, Tom Davenport, John Palmer, and the writer. Tom Young, Davenport, Layton and Palmer never returned—deserted.
On our return to the army we were accompanied by Christian Minnich, who enlisted in the company, having two sons therein. The question of re-enlistment was soon settled by an act of Congress, which placed every man in the Confederate states between the ages of 18 and 35 in the army for three years, or until the close of the war, retaining all that were under 18 and over 45 for ninety days, continuing the organizations then existing, with the right to elect regimental and company officers.
March 1, or thereabouts, in 1862, the enemy began to push his lines closer up, and to make more frequent reconnaissances, and to extend his lines toward Aquia Creek on the Potomac, on the right flank of the Confederate army, causing our commander uneasiness, no doubt, as to the tenableness of our position, and hence on or about the 10th of the month orders were issued to cook rations, and be prepared to march. The movement began three days later, with the head of the column directed toward Warrenton and the Rappahannock River, which was crossed the second or third day. At Centerville we left burning immense quantities of provisions and army supplies, of which later we stood in dire need, the inadequacy of transportation being the excuse for the destruction.
At a point either in Culpeper or Rappahannock, near where we one night encamped, was a distillery, of which some of our men took possession, procuring Old Man Riley Albert to make a run of applejack, with which they tanked up, then filled their canteens, with no way to transport the residue. Harry Snidow and others from a nearby store procured jars, with which they trudged along until the jars were emptied. No one was drunk, but the boys were happy and jolly.
Gordonsville, in Orange County, near the junction of what was then the Central and Orange and Alexandria railroad, was reached, where we went into camp.
Our stay in the vicinity of Gordonsville was of short duration—only for a few days—for on or about April 1 we set out for Richmond, distant about seventy-five miles. The route taken lay through the counties of Louisa, Hanover and Henrico, a low, flat, swampy territory, and in March and April knee deep in mud. The people along this march were unaccustomed to seeing large bodies of armed men marching. The negroes, especially, gazed upon us with seeming astonishment. How long we were making this march to the capital city is not now recollected, but as we carried heavy burdens at that day, it is probable we did not reach Richmond before the 8th or 9th of April.
On the 10th of the month last mentioned, the 7th regiment left Richmond aboard a steamer on the James River, disembarking at King's Landing, ten miles from Yorktown, inland, whither we marched the evening of our debarkation. We took position in and near the trenches for the purpose of preventing the Federal army from marching up the peninsula. Now and then a brisk skirmish would occur on some part of the lines, scarcely a night passing without picket firing and alarms; one of which occurred during a heavy rainstorm, in which the men stood to their guns throughout the night and were thoroughly drenched by the rain.
The time for reorganization of the army had arrived, and this was accomplished quietly on Saturday, April 26, 1862, in the face of the enemy. Before giving in detail the result of the reorganization, I will state that a very decided change had taken place among the men as to their estimates of the character and ability of their officers, field and company. Many were moved by their dislikes and prejudices, engendered by contact in their first year's service, against officers who had endeavored to enforce obedience and strict military discipline, prompted by no other motive than the good of the service; yet these acts, done in accordance with military law, and inspired by patriotism, were often misconstrued by men born freemen, wholly unaccustomed to having restraints placed upon their personal liberty; such acts, the exercise of such authority, being regarded by our volunteer citizen soldiery as tyrannical. Consequently those who had been foremost in rushing to the country's rescue in the early days of her peril, bravely leading their men to the forefront of the battle, were displaced, to the detriment of the service; but patriotic and good men are oftentimes only human. The organization was, however, effected apparently without injury to the public service.
Captain James H. French, of my company, was taken sick on the march from the Rappahannock, and was left in Richmond; consequently he was not present at the reorganization, and perhaps was not a candidate for re-election. Had he been present and a candidate, it is more than probable he would have been again chosen captain without opposition, as no one could have had any personal grievance against him. He had proven himself a man of unflinching courage, and as much in this respect could be said of the other company officers. Save one, Lieutenant Joel Blackard, all were displaced. Blackard, in the reorganization, was elected captain; Sergeant R. H. Bane, first lieutenant; Orderly Sergeant John W. Mullins, second lieutenant; Corporal E. M. Stone, third lieutenant. The non-commissioned officers elected were: A. L. Fry, first sergeant; W. H. H. Snidow, second sergeant; William D. Peters, third sergeant; Joseph C. Shannon, fourth sergeant; this scribe, fifth sergeant; A. J. Thompson, first corporal; Daniel Bish, second corporal; George C. Mullins, third corporal, and J. B. Young, fourth corporal.
Comment as to the choice of the men will not here be made, nor the character of the new officers, as ample opportunity will be afforded in these pages to judge their conduct. It suffices to say now that the company had no cause for regret.
Of the regimental officers, Colonel James L. Kemper was chosen to succeed himself; Major W. T. Patton was elected lieutenant-colonel; Adjutant C. C. Flowerree, major; Lieutenant Starke was appointed adjutant; George S. Tansill, sergeant-major. Dr. C. B. Morton was regimental surgeon, with Dr. Oliver assistant, and upon the promotion of Dr. Morton to brigade surgeon, Dr. Oliver became regimental surgeon, with Dr. Worthington as assistant.
As recollected, Company H, from the District of Columbia, having served its one year, for which it had enlisted, disbanded shortly after reorganization.
Lieutenant-Colonel Lewis B. Williams, than whom no braver man wore the gray, was elected colonel of the 1st Virginia regiment. Prior to the battles of Bull Run and Manassas, the 7th regiment had been brigaded with the 24th Virginia and 7th Louisiana, under Colonel J. A. Early. After these battles, we were commanded by General Ewell. Subsequently, the 1st, 7th, 11th and 17th Virginia regiments formed General Longstreet's brigade. On reaching Yorktown, Brigadier-General A. P. Hill became our brigade commander, General Longstreet having been made a major-general, to whose division our brigade was attached.
At this juncture we were still at Yorktown, with the enemy bold and threatening in our front. It was evident, therefore, that a collision was imminent, either where we were or near by. The order came to move on Saturday evening, May 3. We were soon on the road, in the mud, floundering and pushing toward Williamsburg, about twelve miles distant, reaching there early next morning, after an all night march. The command halted in front of the grounds of the Eastern Hospital for the Insane. The enemy, evidently determined we should not get away without trouble, followed closely, skirmishing briskly with the rear guard, which was continued throughout the afternoon. Then came the monotonous standing in line of battle from early dawn till near midday—a thing that always tries the patience of a soldier. The booming of artillery, and the rattling of small arms could be distinctly heard. As we passed over the street leading to William and Mary College, an elderly lady appeared on her porch, with clasped hands and eyes lifted heavenward, uttering for us, in simple, pathetic tones, a prayer to God for the protection of our lives in the coming conflict.
Beyond the College the column filed to the right into an open field, piled baggage, and then in battle line moved forward into the timber, receiving as we entered therein a shower of balls at close range, wounding a number of men. This onslaught was answered by a charge from us, which broke up the lines of the enemy, consisting in part of New York regiments, and drove him for more than a half mile through the woods into a body of fallen timber, in which was encountered a fresh line of battle. Some doubt at first existed as to who these people were. This was settled by the unfurling of their flag. At close quarters, the fight was desperate for more than two hours, in which our ammunition was expended, when General A. P. Hill ordered a charge with fixed bayonets, upon which the enemy (New Jersey men) were driven from the field; for a hand-to-hand charge is something fearful to contemplate. Being relieved by other troops, Hill's brigade retired to the line from which it had moved in the charge, from whence we withdrew during the night, continuing the retreat; for it will be remembered that the task in hand for us was the holding in check of the enemy—a force vastly superior to our own. In this day's work I fired 36 charges, by which my shoulder was pounded so that it was for a time completely disabled. This battle was fought for a safe retreat for our trains and for the army, and accomplished this purpose. We had beaten the enemy in our center, and on the right wing, while a portion, two regiments, of General Early's brigade had been repulsed by General Hancock's Federal brigade.
The forces engaged were, as stated by General Longstreet: Federals, 12,000; Confederates, 9,000. The casualties: Federal, 2,288; Confederate, 1,565. This engagement was called the Battle of Williamsburg, and will be remembered by the survivors whose eyes may fall upon these lines.
In Hill's brigade the loss was 326, of which 67 were killed, 245 wounded, 14 missing. The 7th Virginia lost 13 killed, 64 wounded, aggregate 77. In Company D, of the 7th Virginia, the loss was one killed, 14 wounded, as follows: Killed, William H. Stafford; wounded, Lieutenant E. M. Stone, and the following men of the line: Allen M. Bane, Charles W. Peck, Andrew J. Thompson, John A. Hale, John W. East, Isaac Hare, George Knoll, Anderson Meadows, Demarcus Sarver, William I. Wilburn, Edward Z. Yager, John Meadows, and the writer—who knows what it is to have a hot buckshot in his hand. Baldwin L. Hoge had the belt of his cartridge box severed and cut from the belt; several of the men had holes shot through their clothing. Sergeant Tapley P. Mays, of Company D, the ensign of the regiment, who bore the flag aloft throughout the battle, had the staff severed three times and the flag pierced by twenty-three balls, Mays escaping unscathed. For his gallant conduct on this field, he received the thanks of the commandant of the regiment, and his conduct was made the subject matter of a complimentary letter to him from the Governor of the state, promising that he should receive a fine sword for his gallant conduct.
The mud was deep, the movement slow, and when morning dawned we were only a few miles from the battlefield, halting occasionally in battle line in order to hold the enemy in check until our long train of wagons and artillery could get away. It must not be supposed that because we were wearied, covered with mud and hungry, that we were dispirited and gloomy. Such mental conditions could not then well exist among such a jolly set of fellows, for we had in each company one or more who would have their amusement, in a joke, a laugh, or a song, especially Bolton and George Knoll (the Dutchman), who were clownish and full of fun. In passing along the roads and through the towns and villages, if a citizen with a high silk hat appeared, these clowns would call out: "Mister, come out of that hat; I know you are in there, for I see your feet!" Another would likely call out: "Mister, my bees are swarming; lend me your hat to hive them in." They sometimes ran across a man with high top boots. Then it was: "Come out of them boots! I know you are in them, for I see your head above." Occasionally they were paid back in their own coin. An old preacher, white-haired, with long white flowing beard, one day rode into camp, when one of these wags called out: "Boys, here is old Father Abraham," whereupon the old preacher said: "Young men, you are mistaken. I am Saul, the son of Kish, searching for his father's asses, and I have found them." The preacher had won, and nobody enjoyed the joke better than the fellows who had been beaten at their own game.
The Chickahominy was crossed by our troops May 9, when we went into camp at Clark's farm, and later near Howard's Grove, on higher and dryer ground, with better water. Here inactivity and hot weather brought on much sickness. It was from this camp that A. L. Sumner of Company D took "French furlough"—went without leave, to see his family, was arrested, brought back, courtmartialed, and sentenced for a term to Castle Thunder, a Confederate prison in Richmond for Confederate delinquents. On his return he made up for his delinquency. A. L. Fry, orderly-sergeant, was summoned as a witness against Sumner at his trial, and was thereby absent at the battle of Frazier's farm.
For several days preceding the 30th day of May, 1862, the weather had been very sultry, and during the night of that day there broke over the camp a violent electric storm, accompanied by a heavy downpour of rain, which flooded the quarters and submerged everything on the ground within the tents, compelling the men to stand on their feet for hours. The vivid flashes of electricity, the fearful peals of thunder, reminded one of the progress of a mighty battle, and was a fitting precursor of the morrow's bloody day.
At daylight, Saturday, May 31, came the order to march. Although we knew the enemy was in close proximity to Richmond and extending his lines closer, with the intention of investing the city, yet we were at a loss to determine where we were going, as we had not received orders to be ready to move. Much difficulty was encountered in crossing the small branches, which had overflowed their banks, but we finally made our way into the Williamsburg road, learning on the way from parties coming from the front that a battle was imminent. Hurrying forward at quickstep, turning to the right from the Williamsburg road, we found ourselves in line of battle on the edge of a swamp in a wood, where we remained until about 1 P.M., hearing the boom of cannon, and indistinctly the rattle of musketry, apparently far to our left. Not long after the hour mentioned, we were hurried away to the left to Seven Pines, where we soon found ourselves face to face with the enemy, in part the Federal division of General Silas Casey, whose earthworks and camp we carried, including some of his artillery. The forces engaged, as given by General Longstreet in his "Manassas to Appomattox," were: Union troops, 18,500; Confederates, 14,600; Union losses, 5,031; Confederate, 4,798. This engagement was called by the Confederates the Battle of Seven Pines.
I have not been able to secure my brigade or regimental loss but my company loss was: A. D. Manning, killed; Sergeant E. R. Walker, Privates Travis Burton, John W. Hight and Joseph Lewy, wounded. Our ensign, Mays, acted with his usual gallantry.
The right wing of the Confederate army, under General Longstreet, had defeated the left wing of the Union army, captured its intrenchments, guns and camp, and driven it for quite a distance, but the Confederate left wing had not been so fortunate as the right. In this battle, after we had broken General Casey's lines, some Union sharpshooters took cover in the swamp in our front, one of whom at about seventy-five yards fired at me, the ball grazing my cap.
A short time previous to the Battle of Seven Pines, our brigadier-general, A. P. Hill, had been made major-general. Colonel Kemper had been promoted to brigadier-general and was in command of the brigade during the above-mentioned engagement. General Joseph E. Johnston, commanding the Confederate army in this battle, was badly wounded, and General Robert E. Lee was appointed to succeed him in the command.
We left the battleground, as now recalled, on June 2, returning to camp, a few days after which the 24th Virginia regiment, which had been with Early's, then with Garland's brigade, was united with ours—now composed of the 1st, 7th, 11th, 17th and 24th Virginia regiments.
Lieutenant Hugh M. Patton Succeeds Stark as Adjutant, and Sergeant Parke Appointed Sergeant-Major, Succeeding George S. Tansill.
Following the Battle of Seven Pines, and the period preceding the opening of the battles around Richmond, at Mechanicsville on June 26, all were engaged in drilling and gathering in absentees. Muskets were put in order, cartridge boxes, bayonets and gun straps were issued. Inspection of arms and accouterments, and dress parades were frequent, and the word went from lip to lip that something was up, that all this preparation meant business, and that right early.
Rations were cooked and distributed on Wednesday, June 25, and everything put in shape to move on short notice. Being on parade on the evening of the day last referred to, General Kemper and Colonel Patton made soul-stirring speeches, telling us that the great battle of the revolution was now to be fought, and if we were successful the Confederacy would be a free country, and we would all go home together; if beaten, the war must be prolonged for years.
Leaving camp in the early morning of the 26th, we marched in the direction of Mechanicsville bridge, on the Chickahominy, halting a short distance from the bridge under cover of timber on the roadside, from which we could, late in the afternoon, hear the roar of the battle at Mechanicsville beyond the river, then being fought by the Confederate division of General A. P. Hill and the Federal corps of Porter. As the darkness came on the flash of their guns could be seen distinctly, the battle continuing until nearly 9 o'clock. At dawn the firing across the river was renewed, continuing for a time. The movement of our force was then made across the bridge, following the track of the retreating foe, whose course was marked by the destruction of commissary stores. Reaching the vicinity of Gaines' Mill at noon, a line of battle was formed behind and near the crest of a low range of hills, hiding us from the view of the enemy. In our immediate front were the brigades of Pickett, Wilcox and Pryor, who were to lead the assault on our part of the line, with our brigade in support. Near the middle of the afternoon the battle opened with fury, raging with varying fortune until nearly dark, when our troops broke over the Union lines, forcing their men from the field: a victory dearly bought. Kemper's brigade was not called into action, though lying under fearful shelling, but fortunately we were just near enough the crest of the ridge to avoid the shells, which passed in most part over us. We suffered but little if any loss.
The Federals engaged in this battle numbered about 35,000; their loss in killed, wounded and missing, 7,000, besides twenty-two pieces of artillery which fell into our hands. The Confederates no doubt had the larger number engaged, and their casualties were, therefore, greater, but seem not to have been reported.
Next morning we marched over the field on which the Confederate brigades of Wilcox, Pickett and Pryor, with others, had made heroic fight, and it is almost incredible that a single line of Confederates should have forced their way in the face of the murderous fire they met, over such a position, which was to all appearances impregnable, and certainly was, except as against men fighting for homes, firesides, and principles which they regarded as dearer than life.
We occupied the field Saturday, in a position to make or to receive an attack, but the enemy was in no plight—in fact, in no mood, to attack us, but on the contrary was making for the James River, though we did not then know it. Our officers did not seem to know with certainty what direction the enemy was taking, as his movement was well masked. It seems to have been discovered late on the evening of Saturday, the 28th, or early on Sunday morning, the 29th, that General McClellan, with his army, was making for the shelter of the Union naval fleet on the James, and such being the understanding, Longstreet's and A. P. Hill's divisions at an early hour on Sunday morning were pushed across the Chickahominy via New Bridge, and to the Darbytown road, to intercept the retreat. The day was warm, the roads dusty, and the march fatiguing, especially as it was rapid for fifteen or eighteen miles. Pushing ahead early the next day, Monday, June 30, the enemy was encountered about noon. The skirmishers were soon engaged, but the advance of our troops did not begin until about 4 o'clock P.M., and after we had suffered for two or more hours from a severe shelling. While under this severe fire and in line in the woods, in a swamp amidst brambles and vines, a shell from one of the enemy's guns burst immediately in our front and only a few feet away, scattering the fragments and shrapnel in our midst, one of which struck a man close by me, burying itself in a testament in his breast pocket, which thus saved his life.
Lieut. Elisha M. Stone
The point where the encounter took place was known locally as Frazier's farm. The only Confederate troops engaged were the two divisions above mentioned, which had been sorely reduced by the casualties at Seven Pines, Mechanicsville and Gaines' Mill, as well as by sickness, the exhaustion of a rapid march, and by straggling, to about 12,000 men. These were pitted against the main body of the Union army.
From the firing we had every reason to believe that the enemy was close at hand in large numbers, seemingly not distant more than half a mile. The advance of our forces was through a dense wood, tangled underbrush filled with brambles, and partly covered by water, with no possibility of keeping the men up to their places, the stronger ones pushing through over the obstacles, while many of the weaker, unable to keep pace, were left behind. Kemper's brigade was leading and his advance soon became a charge, the enemy being posted on the farther side of an open field. Some of the line officers implored the regimental commander to halt long enough to get the men in order and close the ranks, but the officer cried out: "Forward! Forward!" and on rushed the men, every man his own general, which they usually were in making such a charge.
In a fierce battle a man's courage is severely tested. Here our regiment is in battle line on the edge of a wood; less than a quarter of a mile in front is another wood, sheltering the enemy; between the opposing forces is an open field; the regiment is advancing and the lines move out into the clear sunlight. Men will hurriedly reason with themselves: "The enemy is posted in that timber across the field; before we move many yards he will open on us with shot and shell; this is perhaps my last day on earth." So each man reasons, but every face is sternly set to the front and not a man falters. The shell and shot blow dozens to gory fragments, but the line does not halt, the living saying to themselves: "The fire will presently change to cannister, then I shall certainly be struck." The prediction is being verified, gaps are opened through the ranks, only to be closed again; the regiment has lost its adhesion and marching step, its lines are no longer perfect, but the movement is still onward. From knowledge of methods in battle, our men suppose the infantry is in support of the battery. We have escaped shell and cannister, but when we meet the musketry fire we shall be killed. There is no hanging back, no thought but to push ahead. The leaden hail now comes and the lines are further disordered; the left wing has lost its front by quite a distance, but the push is forward, men grip their guns, their eyes flash, and with a yell, on to the battery they rush, bayonetting the cannoneers at their posts. The Federal infantry supports give way precipitately—then follows that famous bone-searching rebel yell of triumph.
The brigade, led by the brave General Kemper, met a shower of shot, shell, cannister and storm of leaden bullets; it never faltered, rushed upon the Union battery—Randol's Pennsylvania—routing its infantry supports. Here Ensign Mays planted the colors of the 7th regiment on the Union guns. They were ours, won, however, at fearful cost. The failure promptly to support our brigade—the enemy flanking us on both wings—caused General Kemper to order the retirement of the brigade, now suffering severe loss from the fire of these flanking columns, which in turn were themselves flanked and defeated by the troops coming to our support. Such is the fearful game of war with men of the same valor and blood.
The brigade casualties were 414, of which 44 were killed, 205 wounded and 165 missing. Regimental loss in the 7th Virginia, 111, of which 14 were killed, 66 wounded and 31 missing. Adjutant E. B. Starke was killed and Sergeant-Major Tansill severely wounded, disabled for further service. Sergeant-Major Tansill had been a soldier in our war with Mexico, and was one of the most efficient, the bravest and best of our soldiers. The gallant Lieutenant, afterwards Captain James G. Tansill, of Company E, of the 7th regiment, was the son of Sergeant-Major Tansill.
The loss in my company was 16. Killed, Captain Joel Blackard; mortally wounded, Ballard P. Meadows, Lee E. Vass and Joseph Eggleston; the other wounded were: J. C. Shannon, Daniel Bish, Jesse B. Young, David C. Akers, H. J. Wilburn, Tim P. Darr, Francis M. Gordon, George A. Minnich, T. P. Mays, John W. Sarver and Joseph Suthern. Captured, Allen M. Bane. Ballard P. Meadows was made a prisoner and died in the hands of the enemy. Upon the fall of the brave and lamented Captain Blackard, the command of the company devolved upon First Lieutenant Robert H. Bane, a gallant soldier, and a worthy successor to Captain Blackard. Second Lieutenant Mullins became first lieutenant; E. M. Stone, second lieutenant, and Sergeant E. R. Walker was elected second junior lieutenant.
During that night our troops rested on the field without disturbance from the enemy, who continued his flank movement, a masterly retreat, to a position at Malvern Hill, on the banks of the James: a position of great natural strength, where the entire Union army was concentrated, supported by the gunboats in the river. The Battle of Malvern Hill did not begin until the afternoon, but its tide swept to and fro until far into the night. The divisions of Longstreet and A. P. Hill were held in reserve, close up, but not called into action, near enough, however, to be in range of the enemy's artillery and heavy projectiles thrown from the gunboats, inspiring fear and terror among our men not justified by their execution. The repeated charges of our troops against the enemy's stronghold failed to dislodge him. Our men were repulsed; they had bearded the lion in his den; he refused to yield; he could not afford to, for if he did he had but one place to go and that was into the river, or the alternative, of surrendering. In the Battle of Frazier's Farm the Federals largely outnumbered the Confederates. They lost ten guns captured by the Confederates, who, when the battle closed, held the greater part of the field. The Federal General McCall was captured by the 47th Virginia regiment.
At the opening of the campaign, the Union army numbered 105,000, the Confederate 80,762—tremendous armies, when we come to think of it. The losses on each side, up to the Battle of Malvern Hill, in killed and wounded, were thought to be equal, but in that battle it is stated upon authority that the Confederate loss was about 5,000 men, the Union loss about one-third that number. During the Battle of Malvern Hill, Mr. Davis, President of the Confederate States, was with us in the morning and under the fire of the gunboats.
It being ascertained that the enemy had retreated during the previous night, we hastened in pursuit, amidst a heavy rainstorm, and after a fatiguing, disagreeable, all-day march, found the enemy in a strong position at Westover, on the James. As he showed no disposition to come out from his cover, our army, about July 8, reached its camps in the vicinity of Richmond. It had been a wonderful series of battles. General McClellan had made a most masterly retreat, escaping from woeful disaster. It was within the range of probability, in fact, almost a certainty, that if the Confederate army had been under as good discipline as it was two years later, the Union army would have been destroyed or made prisoners. As it was, the Federal loss was nearly 16,000 men and 54 pieces of artillery, while the Confederate loss was reckoned at about 19,000 men. Richmond had been saved, the enemy driven far away, General McClellan proving himself better at a retreat than going the other way.
After the enemy had taken shelter under the protection of his gunboats at Westover, the Confederate commissariat attempted to reach the large amount of supplies held by the farmers along the James River. Numerous wagons were sent under escort to secure these supplies. Our Company D, going on one of these trips, was attacked by Union gunboats, into which we fired quite a number of volleys of musketry at close range, being sheltered by the river bank, and in return received a severe shelling. A few men were wounded, and I received a shot on the side of the foot, but not much of a hurt.
From July 8 to August 13, a period of inactivity ensued, and as usual in that swampy country, with bad water, there was much sickness among the men. Lewis R. Skeens, of Company D, died in camp and was buried near by. Charles W. Peck, George W. Akers, William C. Fortner, James B. Henderson, John R. Crawford, and the writer were taken sick and sent to hospital at Richmond, where Peck and Akers died. Fortner, Henderson, Crawford and the writer improved rapidly, and were ready to return to our command by the middle of August.
General McClellan's Union army was shut up at Westover, and being depleted by the ravages of sickness and death. This fact, together with the threatening attitude of a new Federal army in Northern Virginia, induced General Lee, who now had apparently nothing to fear from McClellan, to concentrate his army on the Rappahannock, and to that end about the middle of July had transferred General Jackson and his command to the Rapidan—which, by the early days of August, was in the vicinity of the enemy—and closed with him at Cedar Mountain on August 9, forcing the enemy to retire on Culpeper court house.
Longstreet's division left Richmond Wednesday, August 13, for Gordonsville and the Rapidan, our brigade moving by rail. Learning that our division was moving, Fortner, Henderson, Crawford and the writer, the sick bunch above alluded to, applied for discharge from the hospital, and procured transportation via Lynchburg. Reaching Orange court house on the 18th, we left the railway, taking the track of the advancing army. The first day's tramp finished up Fortner and Henderson, both of whom were still feeble; and it also finished up my shoes, leaving me barefoot; in fact, had none I could wear until after our return from Maryland a month later. Leaving Fortner and Henderson on the road, Crawford and I pushed on, rejoining our command on the Rappahannock. Fortner overtook us in a few days, and in time to go into the battle of the 30th, when he received a severe wound. Poor Fortner! Misfortune seemed now to be his lot, going and coming.
By August 20 the greater part of General Lee's army was on the Rappahannock, confronting the Union army under General John Pope, on the opposite bank. Pope, who, it is stated, had said a few days before in an address to his troops that "his headquarters were in the saddle, and that he never turned his back upon an enemy nor looked for lines of retreat"—which statement he later denied—had already run, and was in a position to have to run again, or at least to get to the rear to look after his line of retreat.
Longstreet's division on August 21 moved forward to Kelley's ford, which we left on the 22d, taking position near Beverly's, relieving some of General Jackson's command, which moved up the Rappahannock. For three or four days there was considerable skirmishing, with occasional artillery duels across the river. Again moving on the 24th to the assistance of Jackson's troops, engaged with the enemy at some of the upper fords of the Rappahannock, our march was retarded by the swollen condition of Hazel river and other small tributaries of the Rappahannock; reaching Jeffersonton that afternoon, during the progress of a lively cannonade. A halt was made by our division and Jackson's men moved up the river. Lieut. Hugh M. Patton had been appointed Adjutant of the seventh regiment, succeeding Adjutant Starke, and —— Park had been appointed Sergeant Major to succeed George S. Tansill, disabled and discharged.
General Jackson with his "foot cavalry," as his men were often referred to, on account of their rapid marches and power of endurance, crossed the Rappahannock on August 25 and by swift marches placed his command at Manassas in the rear of General Pope's army, and between it and Washington—our division (Longstreet's) amusing General Pope on the Rappahannock by making sortie in order to divert his attention from General Jackson's movement.
Longstreet's division crossed the river near Amissville on Tuesday, the 26th, reaching Thoroughfare Gap in the afternoon of the 28th; the march having been somewhat disturbed by a body of the enemy's cavalry. The enemy held the east side of the Gap in large force. The evening was spent in reconnoitering, getting into position to carry the Gap. Our rations consisted of green corn and fresh beef. Numbers of the men were without shoes, including the writer. Some horses belonging to the wagons or ambulances broke from their fastenings during the night, running through the camp and creating quite a stir, as someone called out, "Yankee Cavalry!" No damage was done, except the loss of an ear by one man from the stroke of a horse's hoof. The man yelled, "I've got a one ear furlough."
The Gap next morning was flanked by our troops, the enemy scurrying away in time to save his face. After clearing the Gap and reaching the vicinity of the little village of Haymarket, there could be heard distinctly seven or eight miles away the roar of artillery. The day was warm, the roads dusty, and the men suffered for water. It was pathetic to see the boys with feet bare and bleeding endeavoring to keep pace with their comrades.
A little past noon on the 29th, we arrived in the vicinity of the battleground, and not long thereafter the roar of battle to our left informed us that Jackson's men were hotly engaged. Later in the evening, the brigades of Hood and Evans, of Longstreet's division, engaged a portion of the enemy, driving him for some distance. The remainder of our division was in line of battle, prepared to attack, as we understood, a force of the enemy to the right, should opportunity offer. Our position was now between the Warrenton pike and Manassas Gap railway—where we were still subsisting on roasting ears and fresh beef; no large quantity at that, but the Confederate soldier ever bore his privations with less complaint than would be supposed by those who did not know his enthusiasm for cause and country.
On the morning of the 30th, during skirmishing and artillery fire along the lines, the command to which we belonged moved forward a short distance, resting near an old rail fence which ran on and along a narrow country road. All firing ceased about noon, and quiet continued until about 3 o'clock P.M., when it was broken by the lumbering of artillery and the crash of small arms. While lying on the road referred to, A. J. Thompson and John Q. Martin, of Company D, came near having a serious fight, which was finally terminated by the interference of Colonel Patton. In a few minutes after this trouble, the battle opened on the left, rolling towards us. The order came, and the brigade, under command of Colonel Corse, went forward at double quick, over a field, through the woods, and into open ground, where the enemy was in line of battle. The charge of the division under General Kemper, the brigade under Colonel Corse, was impetuous and most gallant, routing the Union infantry and capturing a Maine battery and some regimental flags. General Pope's army was defeated and in retreat. It was now dark. The forces engaged on the Union side, under General Pope, in this series of battles around Manassas amounted to 74,578 men; those on the side of the Confederates, 49,077. The casualties in the Union army were 1,747 killed, 8452 wounded, 4263 missing; aggregate, 14,462. On the side of the Confederates, 1468 were killed, 7563 wounded, and 81 missing; aggregate, 9112. Thirty Union field guns were captured by the Confederates, with 20,000 small arms, including a number of colors.
Our brigade loss was 33 killed, 240 wounded, and one missing; aggregate, 274. The regimental loss was Col. W. T. Patton, Lieut. Col. C. C. Flowerree, Major Swinler, Adjutant Patton and Sergt. Major Park, all of whom were severely wounded, Major Swinler losing a leg, and Adjutant Patton and Sergt. Major Park being disabled for further service. The loss including those mentioned was five killed, 48 wounded; aggregate 53.
The loss in my company was 16, equal to about one-third of the regimental loss: John Q. Martin, killed; wounded, Lieutenant John W. Mullins and 14 privates, viz: William H. Carr, John S. Dudley, Elbert S. Eaton, Adam Thompson, William C. Fortner, James H. Fortner, Francis H. Farley, J. Tyler Frazier, John W. Hight, G. L. Wilburn, H. J. Wilburn, William I. Wilburn, James J. Nye and Washington R. C. Vass. The two latter were mortally wounded, Vass dying that night and Nye a few days thereafter. A. L. Fry had been sent with our wounded Lieutenant Mullins to Warrenton, and was there captured by the enemy after the army had crossed the Potomac.
I must speak here of some little incidents in connection with this battle which I think worthy of notice. The advance of the brigade in the charge encountered a rail fence, a short distance beyond which was the enemy's battery, and its battle line of infantry supports. When near the fence, fearless Lieutenant-Colonel Flowerree—a mere boy, scarcely 21 years of age—shouted: "Up to the fence, 7th regiment, and give them h—l!"
In closing on the battery, the man at the breach was in the act of firing, when bold Ike Hare, of my company, directly in front of the guns, cried out, "Fire!" Whiz! went the ball over the heads of the men, who the next moment, with Colonel Skinner of the First Virginia regiment, were among the cannoneers, the Colonel, with heavy sabre in hand, cutting right and left, receiving a wound in the encounter which retired him from the service.
I went out to help gather up the wounded, and to get me a pair of trousers and shoes, both of which I had need of, and which I procured, selecting a dead Union soldier about my size. His shoes I could not wear, as they were too small, and I gave them to a comrade; and I almost regretted having put on his trousers, for they were inhabited by the same sort of graybacks common to the Confederate and Union soldiers. After more than 50 years the thought of this wretched parasite makes my flesh itch. But these pests were unavoidable to soldiers continually on the march through mud, mire, and over dusty roads, without opportunity to cleanse their clothes or make a change thereof, and this was particularly so with the Confederate soldier, who seldom had, or could procure a change of raiment.
In front of our regiment fell mortally wounded Colonel Fletcher Webster, of Massachusetts, the only son of Daniel Webster, where he lay until next day.
As was usual following the great battles of our war, there came down that night, and continuing the most of the next two days, a heavy downpour of rain; a great blessing to the wounded, who needed the cooler temperature, as some relief at least from the warm and oppressive heat.
Our time on Sunday was occupied in burying the dead and caring for the wounded, then being relieved by others. On Monday, September 1, followed the command of General Jackson to Chantilly, where he had a heavy engagement with the enemy. From here we marched on the 3d, 4th and 5th, passing through Leesburg and to White's Ford on the Potomac River, where camp was made on the evening of the 5th.
At Leesburg an order came for all sick and shoeless men to remain there: an unfortunate order, in some respects, as it was construed by a great many of the men to mean just anyone who did not want to go over the river into Maryland. There had already been large depletion of the ranks, after leaving Richmond, caused by straggling—partly by shoeless and sick men, and partly, doubtless, from other causes. Rapid marching and insufficient, indifferent, or no food, had much to do with the straggling. Judging other commands by my own, I can state that much too large a number of men remained at Leesburg, stretching the pretext to cover far more than was intended by the order. But when it is remembered that the army within a period of ninety days had fought not less than eleven pitched battles, sustaining losses in the aggregate of fully thirty-five thousand men, and that in addition to this they had engaged in many skirmishes, in which numbers of men were lost, and that the use of bad water and bad or insufficient food had depleted the ranks by thousands; and again, further considering that a large portion of the army had marched from Richmond to the Potomac, hundreds shoeless and more becoming so—it is not strange there were so many stragglers, sick and barefooted men. They amounted to probably 20,000. I think a great many remained at Leesburg who were not sick or barefoot, because of their aversion to fighting beyond Virginia territory, north of the Potomac. In one or more of these things enumerated, I may say thousands of men found excuses, or made them, to fall out of ranks along the line of march, finally to halt at Leesburg—men whose help was sorely needed at Sharpsburg.
The Potomac River was forded on the morning of September 6, amid the singing of "Maryland, My Maryland," and the shouts and cheering of the men. "Back to Washington," the cry, instead of "On to Richmond," which we had heard from our foes. Winchester was made the rendezvous for all the sick, lame, shoeless and others who remained as we passed Leesburg.
That night we camped at a little village, or crossroad hamlet, I think called Buckeystown. Next day, the 7th, a halt was made at the railway bridge over the Monocacy, two miles or more from Frederick, Maryland. Many of the shoeless, and others too plucky to remain at Leesburg, still kept their places with their comrades, following the fortunes of the army throughout the campaign. I was one of the number that made this tramp with bare feet.
A Musket, cartridge box with forty rounds of cartridges, cloth haversack, blanket and canteen made up the Confederate soldier's equipment. No man was allowed a change of clothing, nor could he have carried it. A gray cap, jacket, trousers and colored shirt—calico mostly—made up a private's wardrobe. When a clean shirt became necessary, we took off the soiled one, went to the water, usually without soap, gave it a little rubbing, and if the sun was shining, hung the shirt on a bush to dry, while the wearer sought the shade to give the shirt a chance. The method of carrying our few assets was to roll them in a blanket, tying each end of the roll, which was then swung over the shoulder. At night this blanket was unrolled and wrapped around its owner, who found a place on the ground with his cartridge box for a pillow. We cooked but little, having usually little to cook. The frying pan was in use, if we had one.
We remained three days at Monocacy, during which time the bridge was destroyed by our engineers. The morning of Wednesday, September 10, our division marched through Frederick, Middletown, Boonsboro, and to Hagerstown, reaching the latter place the evening of the 11th, and going into camp half a mile to the south of the town. Subsistence was still a pressing need, green corn and fresh beef becoming monotonous.
In Frederick our hearts were made glad by unmistakable signs of friendship and sympathy. A bevy of pretty girls, singing "Maryland, My Maryland," on seeing our battle flag inscribed "Seven Pines," proposed "three cheers for the battle flag of Seven Pines," which were heartily and lustily given by us. In Middletown we met no smiles, but a decided Union sentiment was in evidence. In Hagerstown we observed indications and heard some expressions of Southern sentiment, but none that satisfied us that they were ready and willing to shed their blood for the Southern cause.
The troops of Stonewall Jackson, together with those of McLaws and Walker, were now rapidly moving to invest and capture the Union garrison of some 13,000 men, at Harper's Ferry. During the march from Frederick, the Confederate rear was protected by a cavalry force under General Stuart, and infantry under General D. H. Hill. In the wake of this rear guard, following leisurely was the Union army under General McClellan, quite a hundred thousand strong, including a powerful artillery of 300 guns.
On Sunday, just before noon of the 14th, the long roll sounded calling the men into line, and a quick movement was made east in the direction of Boonsboro and Turner's Gap. Wagons, artillery and ambulances cleared the road, giving us the right of way. At Hagerstown was left General Toombs' Georgia brigade, and one regiment of G. T. Anderson's to watch a Federal gathering force just across the Maryland line. The day was hot, the road hard and dusty, the march rapid—so much so that many of the men broke down, falling by the wayside. The emergency demanded the presence of our division on the field of battle, which we knew, having learned on our way that General Hill's division had been attacked at Turner's Gap beyond Boonsboro by a largely superior force, perhaps by the larger part of General McClellan's Union army. Let it now be remembered that this army made fourteen miles to the immediate vicinity of the battleground in three and a half hours—good time for a Hamiltonian horse. Now with other troops we were hurried up the mountain to the right of the main gap (Turner's), and after getting near the firing line, and finding Confederate troops there holding the enemy in steady fight, our steps were retraced to the Gap. From thence we were ordered to the left, climbing the mountain side in full view of the enemy to our right, and in range of one of his batteries on a plateau to our right rear, which threw shot and shell thick and fast, striking the head of the leading company of my regiment and killing one man instantly. On reaching the crest of the mountain we found ourselves face to face with the enemy and close up to them, and under fire before we were able to get into formation. The brigades of Rodes and Evans on the left were engaged in strong combat with the force in their front, and as soon as Garnett's and Jenkins' brigades filled the space on the right and connected with Colquit's Georgia brigade, which was astride the turnpike, the fighting along the line became general and fierce, as much so as brave men on both sides could make it.
The writer's brigade was now in a body of open timber, among stones—large boulders, with some fallen timber along the line, behind which, lying down, the men took shelter as best they could; the enemy occupying a skirt of woods with a strip of open land between their position and ours. For two or more hours the battle raged, or until darkness fell, the enemy making repeated but unsuccessful efforts to dislodge our men. The firing having ceased, there was heard in our front the tramp of the enemy's feet, evidently preparing to renew the assault. In a few minutes, a few yards to the right, in which lay a portion of the brigade in the edge of a field, where at the beginning of the battle was standing corn (now cut to the ground) came the sound of a voice, "There they are, men! Fire on them!" Suddenly came a sheet of flame with a deafening crash from the guns of each of the combatants, plainly disclosing them to be within a few feet of each other. The flame from the respective muskets seemed to intermingle. The well-directed fire of the Confederates caused confusion in the enemy's ranks and compelled them to retire. Among the casualties on our side from this encounter was Adjutant John W. Daniel of the 11th Virginia, who received a severe wound in the hand. This same Daniel served with distinction in the United States Senate, dying a year or so ago. Such was the character of many a noble man engaged in this horrid game of death.
It was now 9 o'clock or after and intensely dark, especially in the timber where we were. Wounded comrades had to be removed and cared for; this had to be done quietly, as the enemy was in whispering distance. As heretofore stated, Company D of the 7th Virginia carried into the battle of Second Manassas forty men, of which sixteen were killed and wounded, leaving twenty-four, including commissioned officers. After crossing the Potomac and on entering the battle at Boonsboro Gap, we had twenty-one commissioned officers and men. In this battle were lost four men: T. P. Mays, killed; James Cole, mortally wounded; George Knoll, severely, and John R. Crawford, slightly wounded. Mays was serving in the capacity of ensign of the regiment, and died at the front, where danger was met and glory won, with that flag which he had so gallantly, proudly and defiantly borne aloft on many victorious fields. Brave and undaunted, he ever led where duty called, sharing the hardships and privations of camp life, the march and dangers of battle, without a murmur, and dying with his flag unfurled and its staff clenched in his hands. May the memory of Tapley P. Mays rest in peace.
With two commissioned officers, Captain Bane and Lieutenant Stone, and fifteen men we left the field a little after 9 o'clock at night, carrying one of the wounded, George Knoll, who had an ankle bone fractured. Knoll was borne on the back of Isaac Hare a mile or more to the hospital in Boonsboro.
The officers and men of Company D who went into the battle of Boonsboro were Capt. R. H. Bane, Lieut. E. M. Stone; men of the line, Travis Burton, John R. Crawford, James Cole, John S. Dudley, John A. Hale, Isaac Hare, B. L. Hoge, J. J. Hurt, John F. Jones, David E. Johnston, George Knoll, John Meadows, T. P. Mays, W. W. Munsey, William D. Peters, W. H. H. Snidow, R. M. Stafford, Thomas S. Taylor and A. J. Thompson. The cook in Company D, Alexander Bolton, remained with the supply trains and was not in the engagement.
The forces in this battle on the Federal side, according to the report of General McClellan, numbered 30,000, while the Confederate force, as stated by General D. H. Hill and others, was 9000. The Federal loss was 1813 in fifty-nine infantry regiments engaged; 325 killed, 1403 wounded, and 85 missing. The Confederate loss was 224 killed, 860 wounded, and 800 made prisoners. There are but few regimental reports of losses, therefore I am unable to give those in the 7th Virginia. I am satisfied that of the four brigades of Evans, Kemper, Garnett and Jenkins, sent late in the evening to reinforce the Confederate left, not more than one thousand men reached the firing line, but these were iron soldiers equal to the emergency, holding more than 5000 of the enemy at bay until we were ready to leave the field. The superb fighting in this battle—if at this day a fight can be called something superb—prevented the enemy from occupying the Gap, thus sealing the fate of the Union garrison at Harper's Ferry, which surrendered the following morning, the tidings whereof came to us about noon, causing much rejoicing.
Now set in an all night's march to the scene of the struggle at Sharpsburg, called in the North "Antietam," among the most gigantic and awful in the history of warfare. When daylight came Monday, we were at Keedysville, midway between the points mentioned, not having reached the field of Sharpsburg until 12 o'clock. Having been on our feet all night, without sleep or food, save green corn or apples, placed us in no cheerful mood, but in good fighting temper, as hungry soldiers fight better than well fed ones. Numbers of men straggled off along the march, and even after the Antietam was crossed, in search of food, a number of whom did not get back in the ranks for the battle.