Chapter XXIII

From Malvern Hill to the South of the James.

Engagement at Clay's House.

Bermuda Hundred Line.

Christmas Dinner.

Our Southern Women.

Close of 1864.

June 15 Pickett's division marched from the vicinity of Malvern Hill up the James, crossing the river the morning of June 16, on a bridge near Dreury's Bluff, then passing over the battlefield of that name, which battle we had fought one month before, reaching the Petersburg turnpike. When near Port Walthall Junction, the head of the column was fired upon by the enemy, who had possession of the road. The division was immediately formed in line of battle on the turnpike, sending out skirmishers, driving the enemy and regaining our first line of works, which had been vacated that morning by the troops having been called to Petersburg. The next day commenced heavy skirmish firing. Company D was on the skirmish line the day before capturing some prisoners, among them an Englishman, who came back saying rather excitedly that he was forced into the army, which nobody believed, for the armies of the enemy were to a considerable extent made up of foreigners. It was often remarked by our men that we were fighting all Yankeedom and the rest of mankind. And this reminds me of the story told by a Confederate of another who like himself had in the battle of the third day at Gettysburg gone over the enemy's line behind the stone fence, reaching a point almost on the crest of Cemetery Ridge. Seeing the mighty host gathered and gathering to envelop the few rebels left, this Confederate cried out, "Do we have to whip the world?" Listening for a moment, he heard a Federal officer say: "Attention, World! By nations right wheel, by states, fire!" He concluded it was time for that poor Confederate to cut dirt, and he stood not on the order of his going.

Let it be remembered that we were now engaged in what is known as the battle of Clay's House. One of our batteries to our left was now throwing shells at the enemy in our front, endeavoring to enfilade their line, during which time I was ordered by Colonel Flowerree to go along the line of the regiment and tell the company commanders to get their men ready for the assault. I had proceeded nearly half way when a misdirected shell from the battery referred to exploded over me, a large fragment grazing my head, burying itself at my feet. Had it struck my head, there would have been one less Sergeant-Major in the Confederate army, and this story would not have been written. A moment later I saw J. B. Young of D Company fall with a severe wound in the head. In a few moments the charge became general, and the enemy's intrenchments were carried. General Lee was riding close in the rear of our battle line at the time of the charge referred to, and meeting one of our regiment badly wounded and being carried out by the litter bearers, said to the wounded man, "I hope, my good fellow, you are not badly hurt."

This charge was the subject of a complimentary letter from General Lee to General Anderson, which is as follows:

"General, I take great pleasure in presenting to you my congratulations upon the conduct of the men of your corps. I believe that they will carry anything they are put against. We tried very hard to stop Pickett's men from capturing the breastworks of the enemy, but couldn't do it. I hope his loss has been small."

This reminds me to say here and now, without intending the least disparagement of others, that the 7th Virginia regiment was never ordered to take the enemy's line that it did not take it, never gave up or lost a position it was ordered to hold, and never left a position or battlefield unless ordered to do so. Once when bodily taken by the Federals and carried into captivity, the reader might consider an exception to the statement just made.

The charge last above referred to was not without its casualties, though I have nothing to show the division, brigade or regimental losses. In the 1st Virginia six men were wounded, and I remember that Sergeant William Parrott of Company I and J. B. Young of Company D were severely and Private William Davis of Company C mortally wounded.

During the remainder of June and for several months following we remained on this Bermuda Hundred line, occasionally shifting position from Howlett House on the James to Swift Creek near the Appomattox, until about the middle of July, then settling down on a high piece of ground behind a skirt of timber midway between Howlett House and Swift Creek. Here we worked hard to strengthen our lines.

Company D now had but a single commissioned officer, Captain Bane. Lieutenant Stone was still a prisoner, Lieutenant Walker had been disabled at Gettysburg and retired, and Lieutenant Mullins had died of the wound received at Howlett House in June. It was on this line that Sergeant T. S. Taylor was elected a lieutenant and E. Z. Yager made orderly sergeant of the company. These selections were well made, and the confidence reposed not misplaced.

[Illustration: Rev. J. Tyler Frazier]

At or near this time there appeared on our lines a man representing himself to be a citizen of Alabama, who proposed then to do what could not be done, but in some degree has since been accomplished--to build a machine to navigate the air, carry shells and drop them on the Northern armies, and in their cities. He requested donations from each of the soldiers of one dollar, and of the officers five dollars each to enable him to build his machine. We concluded he was a crank, refused to contribute and the man departed. This fellow was only a little ahead of his time.

At an early hour of July 30th occurred the famous explosion of the mine at Petersburg. Though several miles away, it so shook the earth that the pickets and other men awake at the time felt the shock. The fearful artillery fire which followed convinced us that an important event had occurred. Later in the day we learned what had happened, seeing also a full account of the occurrence in the Richmond papers the next morning. I well remember the comments in the Richmond Examiner (a partisan paper) on the retaking of the line by the division of General Mahone. Describing the slaughter of the Federal soldiers in the crater, it said: "The slaughter was so great that General Mahone sickened at the sight and told his men 'for God's sake to stop,' and the next time we hope General Mahone will shut his eyes." The official report of General Mahone of the retaking of the line and the crater was not furnished by him to his superior officer, but was found by his family among his papers after his death, and published a few years ago. An incident related by the General in his report is worth reproducing here. The General states that his division was on the Confederate right and a mile or more from where the explosion took place; that the same was not unexpected, but just when and where it would occur no one could certainly tell; that on that morning he was lying on the ground, and on hearing the noise sprang to his feet, looking in every direction to locate from whence the sound came, when he discovered a Confederate soldier at full speed coming towards him. The men along the line were endeavoring to stop him, but without success, so seeing the man was following a path which led near by where the General was standing, he planted himself in the path of the fellow, who was without hat, cap, shoes or coat, and said: "Now stop long enough to tell me what has happened." "Why, Mister," said the soldier, "don't you know that hell has busted?" Evidently this man thought the infernal regions had accidentally exploded.

Between the lines of the two armies as now situated lay a strip of woods, where our men and the Union soldiers were in the habit of meeting to exchange newspapers, coffee and tobacco, now and then playing cards. Our officers on finding out what was going on concluded there was too much familiarity and sought to break it up; so when one of the officers located some of the men engaged in a game of cards with a Union soldier, this Federal was made a prisoner and brought into our lines. The Union soldier was highly indignant at what he considered taking advantage of confidence, for both parties by their acts had waived the fact that they were in the field as deadly foes to each other, and in their hearts our own men had a feeling of the same sort. A little later one of the Union soldiers, thinking to get even, induced a Confederate to meet him between the lines on pretense of exchanging papers, when he attempted his capture, but in the scramble the Confederate proved too much for his captor, dragging him toward our lines, when the Union pickets began firing at the Confederate, who let his man go and escaped. These incidents put a stop for the time being to communication and traffic between the opposing soldiers.

At another time some of our men under the lead of an officer, about daybreak crept over to the Federal skirmish line and between the men in their rifle pits, taking the line in flank and reverse, and raked it for a long distance, bringing out more than a hundred prisoners, including the commanding officer of the line.

How tender the fellow feeling of one soldier for another, though on opposite sides, is shown by the following incident: The Union soldiers, well knowing that we were scarce of food, at dusk one day called to one of our men, "Say, Johnnie, are you hungry?" "Yes," replied the Confederate, "have had but little to eat for two or three days," to which the Union soldier said, "Bring your haversack over here and I will take you to the sutler and fill it," but the Confederate demurred, giving as his reason that he was afraid he would be captured. Being assured, however, upon the honor of a soldier that he should have a safe return, he went, and the Union soldier filled his haversack and returned him safely to our lines.

The enemy was reported shifting about in our front beyond and behind the timber, where we could not see him, and supposing he might be preparing for an attack upon us, by order of the Colonel, with Pitts of Company C and Crawford of Company D, I went to the front, outside our pickets, where I ran upon a scouting or observation party of the enemy, by whom we were fired on, and came near being gobbled up, but escaped and returned within our lines. We had a close call.

Wishing to visit some friends in Captain David A. French's artillery company, then stationed near Chaffin's Bluff north of the James, three miles away, I obtained a pass and put off on September 28, spending the night with friends, finding myself the next morning almost in a hornet's nest, for on the morning of the 29th the Federal troops advanced and captured Fort Harrison, a mile to the front of the camp of French's company. I followed the battery, witnessing the fight, in which the Federals advancing from Fort Harrison were repulsed. French lost several men, among them Adam Johnston, killed. I did not tarry long, but set out for my command, meeting on the way a part of our division, the 24th Virginia regiment among them, on their way to reinforce our troops in front of Fort Harrison, where they were defeated in the attempt to recapture the fort.

As already stated, the line from the Howlett House to Swift Creek, some three miles in length, was held by Pickett's division, four thousand strong; the skirmish line or rifle pits of the opposing forces were close together, say 30 yards apart, and the main lines but a few hundred yards away. Our line was so thin and so drawn out that when thrown into the trenches it made scarcely more than a strong skirmish line. We were frequently in the trenches expecting attack, and the morning following the battle of Winchester we were sure the enemy was coming, but he was content with firing a shotted salute. At this time desertions from our ranks, as well as from the ranks of the enemy, became more frequent and punishment more sure. Numbers of the enemy came into our lines and were sent to the rear and the same course was pursued by the enemy with men deserting from us. Now and then a man instead of going over to the enemy would go home and hide and when caught would be tried and shot. This happened to a mere boy, a member of Company B of our regiment, who was executed October 18, 1864. At this distance from the war, a half century, such a thing may shock the reader, but war at best is a horrible thing and discipline must be enforced. It was not strange that some men deserted and went home. Many had families dependent on them for food and support. The soldier's pay for a month, in Confederate currency, with the necessaries of life advanced to enormous figures, would not buy a half bushel of wheat for his family. The cry of his children for bread reached his ears and this was more than his heart could bear. He became dissatisfied--anxious for the suffering ones at home. He was willing to bare his breast to the storm, and undergo the hardships and privations of camp life and the dangers of the battlefield, if he knew his wife and children were kept from starving, but their appeals for food moved him; he would obtain leave to go if he could, otherwise he would go without leave; but it will be seen if this were permitted the army would soon be depleted, and the cause we were fighting for lost. The dilemma was therefore a trying one to many a good man.

The Colonel of the 7th regiment, having instructions to capture a prisoner to obtain certain information wanted, and going to the skirmish line, where Company D under Captain Bane was on picket, instructed him to secure such prisoner. Bane called for volunteers for this enterprise and three men responded, among them John W. East, who agreed to capture the prisoner by playing the role of deserter, which he did by going over to the enemy. The Federal picket called our men up next morning and told them East had deserted the night before. This was no less than a ruse on John's part to desert and go over to the side of the enemy.

Among the inducements offered by the Federal officers to our men to desert was that if their homes were within the Federal lines they should be sent home and protected or given government employment at good wages, but love of cause and country were more potent than all the inducements offered on the other side.

A. L. Sumner, of Company D, an illiterate man, heard someone read from a Richmond paper one morning in November, 1864, that Mr. Lincoln had been re-elected president of the United States, and had called for a large number of additional men. Sumner sat with his head bowed, when a comrade approaching and seeing that something was troubling him, inquired the cause. Sumner responded, "Don't you know that Abe Lincoln is re-elected and has called for a million men, and that Jeff Davis says war to the knife? What shall we do?"--A pertinent inquiry.

Christmas, 1864, was approaching and extensive preparations were being made by city, town and country to furnish the army of Northern Virginia a Christmas dinner, the women taking the lead--God bless them! The newspapers urged the movement forward, committees were appointed to collect and forward the good things to the soldiers. The papers proclaimed that Virginia, devastated as she was by an invading host, was yet able to feed her soldiers; that the cattle upon a thousand hills were hers. Though the cattle were not there, the day came, and with it a bountiful supply which made us glad, and we thanked our benefactors and took courage.

The credit for our Christmas dinner was due the women. In every movement for the uplift and betterment of our race, and in every worthy cause, woman is the first to espouse, the last to forsake. Having once fixed her affections upon the object of our cause, her love therefor became as fast and enduring as the rock-ribbed hills. The wives, mothers and sisters of the men gave their husbands, sons and brothers to the cause, suffered untold agony and sorrows, depriving themselves of every comfort, to the end that the soldiers in the field might be clothed and fed. For them no sacrifice was too great. The Southern woman, accustomed to the indulgences and refinements of life, became familiar with the coarsest of personal apparel, and a scarcity of food which she had never known, and she bore these things without a murmur. She followed the plow, reaped the grain, took it to the mill, nursed the sick and wounded, buried the dead, and rendered thousands of kindnesses to our suffering soldiers, only recorded in the hearts and memories of the recipients of these loving deeds, and of Him whose eye is never shut. In the days of "reconstruction," when men were awe stricken, not knowing whither to look or what to do, these women stood with resolute trust in God, giving words of encouragement to the sterner sex; and became, as it were, the strong vine entwined around the sturdy tree when shaken by the storm. These Southern women were the only portion of our people who never surrendered. They are today the purest type of Anglo-Saxon womanhood on the face of the earth.

Memorial Day originated with our Southern women, whose custom it is to strew flowers, mementoes of their undying love, on the graves of the gray and the blue alike. They are the guardians of the graves of our noble dead.

"This place of burial is Hallowed by woman's prayers; A nobler epitaph than this Could not be theirs."

Things now began to look dark. General Sherman was marching through Georgia to the sea; Hood's army had been defeated at Nashville. The situation was grave in the extreme. With all this came strange presentiments. The dark clouds that had been for some time overhanging us were settling down. The patriotism, enthusiasm and untold sacrifices of the past four years seemed all for naught, and our men could not be required to shoulder a heavier cross than was now the lot of the Confederate soldiers. But a patriotic people and a valiant soldiery might yet accomplish success, looking we were, but in vain, for foreign intervention, or something else to turn up. If to satisfy the Northern people and gain our separate existence meant to give up slavery, the army was ready to see it abolished. In fact, the great bulk of the army was ready to make almost any sacrifice required for independent and separate government. Our forefathers had resisted British tyranny, we were resisting Northern aggression upon the sovereignty and reserved rights of the States of the Confederacy.

Dark and discouraging as were these days, the spirit of the army was yet unbroken, and the men were willing to fight it out, although it appeared but a question of time when we should all go down.

Thus closed the year of 1864, and to us it seemed final overthrow must come, for our foe was growing stronger, we weaker. Our star was surely on the wane.

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