CHAPTER XV

BACK TO PETERSBURG, VA.—BEAST BUTLER—THE BATTLE OF DRURY'S BLUFF—GENERAL GRACIE'S COURAGE—INTO A HEAVY FIRE AT CLOSE RANGE—COL. RICHARD F. MAURY—YANKEE BRIGADE CAPTURED—GENERAL WHITING'S FAILURE—THE YANKEE FLAGS

BACK TO PETERSBURG

Leaving Newberne at night (a pitch-dark night it was), with the Eleventh Regiment as the rearguard, we marched up to Kinston, where the brigade boarded the cars for Goldsboro. As the rearguard moved off from Newberne, after the other troops were well on the road, a body of cavalry was heard approaching, when the regiment halted. A lone horseman approached, who was stopped by a cry of "Halt! who comes there?" The horseman replied, "It's some of _we all's_ men"—a non-committal reply, to be sure.

It was a squadron of North Carolina cavalry coming back to get in the rear of the infantry. These Tar Heels were as badly scared as we were, each side taking the other for the enemy. Every man had bundles of fodder tied on behind his saddle, and presented a grotesque appearance in the darkness, as they passed to the rear.

It was soon rumored that we were needed in Virginia to protect Richmond and Petersburg from Beast Butler and his army, who had sailed up James River, and was threatening Petersburg.

Arriving at Goldsboro, the train was sent on to Weldon as fast as steam could carry it, and from Weldon on towards Petersburg. On reaching Jarratt's Station, it was found that a body of Yankee cavalry had come up from Suffolk and destroyed the railroad, tearing up the track and burning the bridge over Stony Creek, several miles further on. Leaving the train at Jarratt's, the troops marched along the torn-up railroad track to Stony Creek, when another train was taken for Petersburg, where we arrived on the —— of May, 1864, none too soon for the safety of the city.

BEAST BUTLER

Beast Butler had come up James River on transports, with an army of about 40,000 men, landing some at City Point, and marched on Petersburg, while the main body landed at Bermuda Hundred, higher up the river. This move was no doubt intended as a diversion to draw troops from General Lee, who was confronting Grant in the Wilderness, but was checkmated by drawing troops from other points, threshing old Butler, and sending some of these men on to join General Lee, as we shall presently see.

On the day before we arrived, or that day, I am not sure which, Butler had advanced a strong column as far as the Richmond & Petersburg Railroad, between Richmond and Petersburg, and destroyed a portion of the same; the column had been driven back, however.

The people of Petersburg gave a joyous welcome to the Confederates, the ladies greeting and feeding the soldiers as they marched through the streets.

Until the arrival of these troops there was only a thin line, principally old men and boys, with some regular troops, holding back the Yankees from Petersburg. General Beauregard also had, with other troops, hurried on from the south about the same time.

Butler, with the bulk of his army, now being between Petersburg and Richmond, threatening both cities, it was necessary to have troops to defend each. Dispositions were accordingly made to that end: General Whiting was left at Petersburg with about 3,000 troops; Beauregard, who was now chief commander, with the others, passed on towards Richmond, and took position opposite Drury's Bluff, the line extending southwest to the Richmond & Petersburg Railroad.

As Terry's Brigade marched along the country road towards Richmond, we knew the Yankees were only a short distance to the right of the road, though not in sight. Along the road at Swift Creek the trees were scarred with bullets fired in the fight a day or two before.

Company C marched on the right flank of the regiment in single file, and about fifty yards from the road, as skirmishers, moving silently along through the pines and bushes, the men five paces apart, looking out for the Yankees to the right, and expecting every moment to be fired upon by the enemy; a right ticklish position.

We got through, however, without being attacked. Hardly had the column passed before the Yankees came into the road we had marched over, firing upon the rearguard. The brigade was then halted and formed in line of battle, expecting an attack, but none came. The command in the afternoon moved on a little farther towards Richmond, occupying the lines between Drury's Bluff and the railroad, abandoning a line of breastworks, which the Yankees afterwards occupied.

During the next few days there was considerable fighting along the front lines, principally with artillery, but our regiment was not engaged.

THE BATTLE OF DRURY'S BLUFF

The army lay here on this line until the night of the 15th of May. Late that afternoon, General Beauregard had orders given to all the officers, from the major-generals down to the company commanders, for an attack on the enemy's lines at daybreak the next morning.

I remember well, Col. Kirk Otey calling up all the company commanders of the Eleventh Regiment, and telling them that General Beauregard had determined to attack the enemy the next morning, and had ordered that the troops at dark march to positions to be assigned them in front of the enemy's lines, sleep on their arms, and at daybreak the next morning charge the breastworks in their front. This was an unusual order; the Commanding General did not often disclose his plans in this way.

And so it was done. Terry's Brigade was moved to the extreme left of the Confederate lines near Drury's Bluff. There the brigade lay in the thick pines with their guns by their sides until morning.

I have spent many more pleasant and less anxious nights than that one. Knowing that when the morning dawned we would have to face death in front of the enemy's breastworks was not very pleasant to contemplate, to say the least. Before daybreak on the morning of the 16th of May, 1864, the army was aroused and the men on their feet, ready to do or die. Many did die that morning, and something was done, too.

The brigade took position in an open field not far from where the night had been spent, first marching along the river road, crossing a branch or small creek near an old mill site, then filing to the right off the road, and forming line of battle close to the bushes growing along the branch, with the open field in front. The morning was dark, a heavy fog arising from the river enveloping the country around.

About fifty yards in front of the brigade, an Alabama brigade, commanded by General Gracie, was forming in line of battle also. This brigade was the front line. Terry's Brigade was the supporting line, with orders to keep 200 yards in the rear of Gracie while advancing, until called on to go forward. Maj.-Gen. Bushrod Johnson was in command of this part of the line; General Pickett, I believe, was at Petersburg; Major-General Ransom, I think, commanded the front lines.

On the right flank of Gracie's Brigade, Hankin's Battery, of Surry County, was taking position also. No unnecessary noise was made, no one spoke unless giving orders, and then in a low tone. The artillery moved into position slowly, and with as little noise as possible. I remember well the cluck of the iron axles as the guns moved slowly into position as quietly as a funeral procession.

When all was ready, and while it was yet dark, the Alabamians moved forward up the hill, the artillery keeping pace with them, firing by sections, each section moving forward after firing.

Pretty soon the Yankee pickets opened fire on the advancing column, which it returned, the column moving on the while, driving the pickets from their rifle pits near the top of the hill. On down the hill General Gracie took his men right into a very heavy fire, the artillery halting at the top of the hill, still firing away into the darkness beyond, throwing shot and shell into the woods in front, where the enemy is supposed to be.

It was a grand spectacle that dark morning—the firing of the battery by sections as it advanced; the roar of the guns; the flames of fire bursting forth in the darkness. Though rather awe-inspiring at the time, it was grand, nevertheless. I shall never forget the scene.

Terry's Brigade followed on and halted at the top of the hill, some 150 yards in rear of Gracie's, which was now hotly engaged at the foot of the hill, many of the Yankee bullets flying over the hill, killing and wounding several, as the men knelt or sat on the ground.

I remember while here, one of Company H, the next company to Company C, was shot through the body, and how tenderly an Irish comrade, who was sitting by his side, took him in his arms and said, "Poor —— (I forget the name) is killed; poor fellow," and, "his poor wife and children." It was truly a pathetic scene in the midst of a battle. I shall never forget the tender, sympathetic tone of that Irishman's voice.

Until reaching this position we were not exposed to the fire of the enemy, but now the bullets were whizzing by pretty thick. The enemy seemed to have no artillery on this part of the line. By this time day was breaking, but it was still very foggy and dark.

GENERAL GRACIE'S COURAGE

Through the mist could be seen stragglers and wounded men from Gracie's Brigade coming back from the front, some of them loading and firing as they fell back; soon larger squads of them came breaking to the rear, and up the hill came General Gracie on his horse, cursing and swearing like a sailor, apparently oblivious of the danger from the balls that were flying through the air, calling his men "d——d cowards," and using much strong language. General Gracie was a stout man with iron-gray hair and mustache, and was blowing like a porpoise while riding among his men trying to rally them. One of his men, a tall, light-haired, good-looking young man, seemed to resent his harsh words, saying, "General Gracie, we stayed there as long as we could." "Yes," replied the General, "you ran away, too, like d——d cowards"; or, to be a little more accurate, though not quite exact in quoting the General's words, "Like d——ned cowardly sons of —" (female canines).

General Gracie rode up to General Terry and said, "General Terry, send me a regiment down there to take the place of one of mine that has run away." Just then one of Company C came up to me and said, "It is no use for us to go there; don't you see they have driven back them men?" I replied, "Then this is the very time we are needed."

General Terry called on the Eleventh and Twenty-fourth regiments to go forward, and down the hill the two regiments went at double-quick, with a wild yell that sounded above the roar of battle.

The Twenty-fourth was just on the right of the Eleventh, with Col. R. F. Maury, sword in hand, in front, walking backwards, calling on and beckoning to his men to come on. I noticed Ned Gillam, a sergeant in Company C, dash to the front as the line started, look back, open wide his mouth, raise the "Rebel yell" and press forward, as if breasting against a heavy storm of wind and rain. (Men in battle did do this; why, I do not know. The body would be leaning forward, the face averted as if the going forward required great physical exertion.)

Addison says, "Courage that grows from constitution often forsakes a man when he has occasion for it; courage which arises from a sense of duty acts in a uniform manner." I opine the courage displayed by General Gracie that morning was of both kinds. It did not fail him then or thereafter; while Ned Gillam's was more from a sense of duty. But I must stop philosophizing in the midst of a battle, and go on with the fight.

INTO A HOT FIRE AT CLOSE RANGE

On reaching the foot of the hill, the Eleventh and Twenty-fourth halted in the edge of the woods, where the enemy's fire was very heavy and destructive at very close range. The minie balls were flying thick, the "sip, sip, sip" sound they made indicating unmistakably that the Yankees were close by, though hidden by the fog, smoke and bushes, and our men, standing or kneeling, returning the fire with a will. Here these regiments suffered a heavy loss in a very short space of time.

COL. RICHARD F. MAURY

I remember passing Colonel Maury just at the edge of the woods, lying on his back looking ghastly pale. I said to him, "Colonel, are you badly wounded?" He replied calmly, "Yes, very badly." He recovered from the wound, however, and still lives in Richmond. Colonel Maury is a son of the late Commodore Matthew F. Maury, "the pathfinder of the seas." (Since this was first written the gallant Colonel Maury has answered the last roll call; peace to his ashes.) Colonel Maury was a strict disciplinarian and not very popular in camp, but in a fight his men stood by him, and died by him.

I also remember while kneeling here in the woods, in this terrific fire, when the twigs around me on every side were being cut by bullets, and men shot down on every hand, I felt a sense of safety and security; it seemed there was a small space or zone just around my person into which no balls came. I have often thought and spoken of this, but never could account for the impression clearly and distinctly made upon my mind in the midst of imminent danger. It may be, at that early hour of morning, a loved one at home—wife or mother—at her morning devotions, was at that very moment sending up an earnest petition to the God of Heaven and earth, the Maker and Ruler of all things, for my protection, and that though the petitioner was far away, the prayer reached the throne of grace and mercy, and the answer came down there to me in the midst of that scene of carnage, "Safe"! Who knows? Maybe in the sweet bye-and-bye I may know more of this. So mote it be.

While here G. A. Creasy, a young soldier of Company C, who was at my side, spoke out, saying, "Captain, I am wounded, what must I do?" Looking at him, I saw the blood running from a wound in the face. I replied, "Go to the rear," and he went. Gus still lives in Pittsylvania County.

YANKEE BRIGADE CAPTURED

It was not long before the word came along the lines from the left, "Cease firing." The other regiments of the brigade, and part of Gracie's, on the left, had advanced, overlapping the enemy's lines on his right flank, and swinging around, came in on the enemy's flank and rear.

They had surrendered; a whole brigade—General Heckman, their commander, and all.

The Eleventh and Twenty-fourth at once went forward and came upon the Yankee breastworks, not over twenty steps in front. There the Yankees stood with their guns in their hands, very much frightened and bewildered, apparently, and looking greatly astonished as if something had happened, but not knowing exactly what; they found out very soon, though, when, after surrendering their guns, they were marched to the boat-landing at Drury's Bluff (escorted by the Seventh Virginia Regiment) and sent up the river by the boat to Richmond, and into Libby Prison. My brother Bob said that as he approached the Yankee breastworks, an officer fired his pistol into his face, but his aim was bad. Color-Bearer Hickok also went forward among the foremost, and was told by the Yankees not to come into the works, presenting their guns. Hickcock brought down his flag-staff at a rest, and went ahead, heedless of their protestations. I saw Major Hambrick, of the Twenty-fourth Regiment, after the battle was over, who was also wounded, shot through the thigh, who said, when asked about his wound, "D——n 'em, I will live to fight them again." Poor fellow, he died in Richmond soon afterwards from his wound.

By this time the battle was raging along the lines for a mile or more. The plan of battle was to first strike the Yankees on their right flank and follow it by successive attacks on their line from right to left, all of which was successfully and handsomely done before the sun was well up.

GENERAL WHITING'S FAILURE

A further plan of the battle was, that General Whiting, who, as before said, had been left in command of the troops at Petersburg, was to attack the Yankees in the rear at the same time they were assailed in front. This, however, was a miserable failure. It was said at the time that Whiting was drunk; how true this was I never knew, he only marched out of Petersburg and then marched back again. If the attack in the rear had been made simultaneously with the one in front, there is no doubt but that Butler's army would have been completely crushed, as if caught between the upper and nether millstones, and captured almost to the last man, when there would have probably been a first-class hanging. Butler had been outlawed; that is, proclamation had been issued by the Confederate authorities to hang Butler on the spot, if captured, for his beastly conduct towards the people, especially the women, of New Orleans, while in command of that city. Butler had threatened to turn his soldiers loose upon the women.

Col. Geo. C. Cabell used to tell, that when in Congress he had a talk with Butler about this battle, and upon Butler's asking him what would have been his fate if he, Butler, had been captured, Colonel Cabell said he replied, "I do not know as to the others, but if my regiment had made the capture, you would have been strung up at once." A Richmond paper described this battle as a contest between a great eagle and a buzzard. Of course, the Beast was the buzzard, and Beauregard the eagle.

By the time the sun was an hour high the Yankee army was in full retreat for its base, Bermuda Hundred, the Confederates following on, though the pursuit was not a very vigorous one. All who knew of the plan of battle were anxiously awaiting the sound of Whiting's guns in the rear of the Yankee army, but alas! those guns were silent, and Beast Butler and his badly beaten army made good their escape.

Some of the prisoners captured that morning said they were taken completely by surprise; that orders had been issued to attack the Confederates at sunrise. So Beauregard stole a march on them by attacking at daybreak. The early bird caught some of the worms that morning, if not all, as was planned.

Beauregard followed on to the top of the river hills overlooking Bermuda Hundred, where the Yankees were well fortified, with gunboats in the river to assist in the defense of the strong position. Here there was some artillery firing, but no attempt to assault the position was made. Butler was "bottled up." In this fight, Company C lost seven men killed and mortally wounded, as follows: Chas. Allen, John DePriest, Allen Bailey, John Monroe, Bruce Woody, Alfred Rosser, and Geo. W. Walker, and many wounded.

In a few days the bulk of the Confederate army went to join General Lee in his death struggle with Grant and Meade, which had been going on since the early days of May in the Wilderness and around Spottsylvania Court House.

YANKEE FLAGS

On the 20th of May, Terry's Brigade marched through Richmond, each regiment proudly carrying a Yankee flag, captured on the 16th of May. The brigade marched into the Capitol Square, where there was assembled a great crowd of Congressmen, high Confederate dignitaries, and others. The troops were massed in columns of regiments, and there, beneath the grand equestrian statue of Washington, these flags were delivered to the War Department officials. I have no doubt that if Washington was there in spirit, he looked on approvingly.

That afternoon part of the brigade went by train to Hanover Junction, where troops were assembling from different quarters to reënforce General Lee, who had been fighting and holding his own for nearly three weeks against tremendous odds. But his ranks had been greatly depleted, while Grant's army was being reënforced almost daily. Gen. John C. Breckenridge was here with his troops also. It was said Breckenridge was the handsomest man in the army; some of Company C saw him here and declared he was the finest-looking man they ever saw. I could have seen him by walking a hundred or two yards, but did not do so, being very tired and worn out generally, and sad on account of the loss of seven good men a few days before.