USA > Indiana > The soldier of Indiana in the war for the union, Vol. I > Part 4
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60
General Morris hoped to atone for the escape of the Con- federate force from Philippi by resuming the pursuit, and continuing it until the enemy had either been defeated in battle, or driven beyond the mountains. But with a force of little more than six thousand, a large portion of which must guard the railroad and its two branches ; with insuffi- cient funds ; without quartermaster or commissary ; and under the necessity of giving a careful and impartial trial to numerous prisoners ; it was impossible for him to make any movement. Assured that the troops in Camp Dennison and Camp Morton were suffering from inactivity and disap- pointment, he requested reinforcements. General McClellan, embarrassed by the want of wagon-trains and by his want of confidence in undisciplined Volunteers, felt it impossible to comply. Morris therefore continued at Grafton, and did all that was possible under the circumstances. Mounted scouts, few in number, but active and efficient, scoured the country in search of Rebel citizens and spies. Captain Tripp,
411513
36
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
of the Sixth, headed a particularly efficient body of scouts. Forces of fifty or a hundred were frequently sent to disperse parties gathered for muster. Prisoners generally professed themselves willing to take the oath of allegiance; and they received without compunction the forgiveness of the lenient Government. They were also often the recipients of simple and earnest instruction in regard to their duty.
The Confederates were thoroughly dissatisfied with the inauguration of the campaign in West Virginia, but they saw with surprise and pleasure, and proceeded at once to take advantage of the enforced inactivity of the Federal troops. They brought reinforcements through the Cheat Mountain passes, and rapidly concentrated at Beverly and at Huttonville. In the Laurel Hill Range they built fortifications of great strength. The northern and principal, called Laurel Hill Camp, formed the head-quarters of General Garnett. The southern, under the command of Colonel Pegram, was established merely for the protection of Garnett's rear. The forest from one camp to the other, and stretching away along the mountains, was almost unbroken, and so dense that an army supplied with provisions might lie here months undiscovered. Even this wilderness was penetrated and its depthis revealed by Morris's scouts : horsemen, where the thickets were accessible to horse ; footmen, through every glade and glen, in every copse, on every rock, scanning the enemy's strength from overhanging cliffs, listening to the talk of Rebel sentinels, and entering the very precincts of the Rebel camp. The following narrative illustrates, better than any description of a third party, the danger, daring, and toil incident to a scouting expedition.
SCOUTING.
NARRATIVE OF W. B. F.
June 27th, a man was wanted who would visit the Rebel camp at Laurel Hill Mountain, to get the position and num- ber of the enemy, -also the fortifications, of which we had heard much from the country-people. I volunteered and was accepted by Colonel Dumont, then in command. I left head-
37
SCOUTING.
quarters at nine P. M., with a rough but honest specimen of Virginia backwoodsman for a guide, De Hart Wilson by name. His father was then a prisoner for Union expressions. We were clad in the guise of farmers. Colonel Crittenden furnished us with horses as far as Buckhannon Bridge, where we were to leave them with our scouts who were out on that road. The moon was bright. At eleven, two hours after we started, we were halted at a little church by our scouts. We asked for an escort as far as the bridge, but the officer in command refused it, saying the bridge was full of Rebels. One of his men rode up and said, " Captain, I will go with them to the bridge, and bring back their horses." " All right. If you were not an independent, I would not let you go. But don't go beyond the bridge with the horses."
The brave and kind offer of the stranger touched my heart. I had never before seen him. He had a well-worn hunting- shirt, belted about his waist with a raw-hide thong, from which hung a long duelling-pistol. An old felt hat, full of holes, was thrown on his head as if by chance, and seemed ready to fall off. His little black eye was sunken beneath a heavy eyebrow and a massive forehead. His black hair was cut short. His blacker moustache and beard were heavy, but neatly trimmed. Above all, his riding was peculiar, easy, and balanced as if he were part of his horse, and light and grace- ful as the swinging of a canary bird in the ring that hangs in its cage. He said not a word until we arrived at the long dark bridge. Here he stopped. " I am sorry; but my orders. Look out, friends. Enemy near. Lose your heads." " Don't fear for us," said I, " the d-l take the hindmost!" " Good-bye ! God bless you !" returned he. I felt queer at this from so rough-looking a man. " What's your name ?" I asked. "Len' Clark," he answered, as he turned his horse ,toward Philippi.
Wilson and I crossed the bridge, and hurriedly pursued our way along the road, occasionally stopping to listen for Rebel scouts, but not speaking a word. The moon still shone, lighting up the gloomy arches of the forest. After walking six miles, we left the road, and without pausing took a west- ern course through the wilderness. On we went, in pathless
38
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
woods, through ravines tangled with azalea, whose perfume hung heavy on the midnight air; up the craggy mountain- side, saturated to the skin with cold dew; on through the laurel thicket, scaring the whippoorwill from his home ; over the mossy trunks of fallen forests; down the steep bluffs ; wading cold streams; on we went all night long. Near morning the guide hesitated, and at length acknowledged that we were out of our course. We threw ourselves down on the pine logs, and took an hour's rest.
Just at daybreak we heard a cock crow, and following the direction of the shrill clarion, we found a little farm-house. We roused the frightened farmer, and Wilson inquired the direction to Coon Carpenter's. We learned the course and were off at full speed, for Coon Carpenter was a Union man, and it was necessary to reach his house before sunrise. In passing over a farm, two men saw us, and immediately hid themselves in the woods. The Rebel camp was within seven miles of us, and the people who professed Union sentiments were very shy, sleeping in the woods in the daytime, and only at night daring to come out of their mountain hiding- places to visit their families. Everybody was suspicious of strangers.
We crossed the farm of an old Dutchman, by the name of Rohrbach, and, wanting further information, we concluded to make a halt at the rear of his cabin. Two half-black, half- yellow, half-starved Virginia 'coon dogs came at us. Their barking brought Mrs. Rohrbach to the door, where she took up a position she seemed inclined to keep, while she with frightened look surveyed us. She was six feet long, with an ugly, angular face, the color of putty. Her nose was long and tnin. Her mouth was like a gash in a frost-bitten squash ; flopping open, it revealed three long front teeth, blackened with smoke and calomel. On each temple were» three little, flat, blue-colored curls, which seemed to have been made and put there under the pressure of a ton to the inch. She had no other hair or hairs on her head. A black clay pipe, with a long cane stem, was held tightly, upside- down, between her snags. Her eyes resembled two large pewter buttons, dipped in lard. Her frame was the only
39
MOUNTAIN CABINS AND PEOPLE.
thing she retained of what may once have been a good-sized body. I describe Mrs. Rohrbach so minutely, because she is rather a type of a West Virginia wife at middle age. We asked for her husband; she answered, interrogatively: “ I reckon you don't want to hurt him ?" We didn't wish to hurt him. She pointed to a field with her long, bony finger, and there we soon found Rohrbach. He was a quiet old Dutchman, as ugly as his wife, whom, he said, he married for "use, not looks." It was now only half-past four in the morning, and he had been ploughing some four hours by moon- light, with his oldest boy. Two smaller tow-heads, dressed in dirty homespun shirts and ragged pants, were stationed on the fence at either end of the field, to tell the old man if any Rebels or strangers were approaching, when he would make tracks for the woods.
After some conversation, in which we learned that the road to Carpenter's was scouted by the Rebels, and that they had been at his house last night, we proceeded with caution on our journey, and arrived within an hour at Coon Carpenter's. Coon lived five miles from his nearest neighbor. His farm is a specimen of the middle class of Virginia farms. It is a small opening in the forest, from which the trees have been " deadened," and is secluded from all the world. A few acres of Virginia wheat, a few of corn, and a tobacco patch, are surrounded by a rickety rail-fence, in the corners of which weeds most do flourish. Another space, fenced in and called the " Dead'nin," is used to pasture two or three old horses ; one or two colts; mane and tail matted with burs; half a dozen sheep; and a cow. A few long, land-pike, blue pigs run at large. The cabin of Coon is, like all Virginia cabins, composed of rough logs, sticks, pins, and mud .* Inside are two huge feather beds, under which are a trundle-bed, boxes, and all the odds and ends of the establishment. The window (there is not always a window in these mountain cabins) is small; the fireplace large. A gun-rack, made of antlers, is over the door. A shelf of rough boards supports the meagre store of blue or red china.
* Many of the backwoods cabins are built without the use of iron fasten- ings, such as nails, screws, &c.
40
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
Coon Carpenter and son are both Union men. Coon is tall, and about fifty years of age. His son much like 'him, and half his father in years. Both were barefooted, unwashed, homespun men. Not a member of the family can read or write, and no books or papers are seen about this primitive house. The boy calls the father " dad," and the man calls the boy " sonny." The mother and daughters are wild, shy people, say nothing, but stare suspiciously. Women never enter into conversation, in the company of strangers, and never sit at the table with them.
We took breakfast, ham and ash-cakes, and after procuring some tobacco, completed our journey in another five miles, making a distance of thirty-five miles in ten hours, including the rests. We were now a mile and a half from the Rebel camp, at the house of Mr. Stephens, a good and remarkably shrewd Union man; and Wilson left me to visit his mother, who lived some two miles north. Mrs. Stephens called her two little boys from the cornfield, and directed them to keep a sharp lookout. If they saw any one coming, they were to whistle, but not to run to the house. She sent two wild- looking girls to watch from a neighboring hill. They were to pretend to pick strawberries, and if they saw any of the Rebels coming over the river, they were ordered to walk slowly homeward. After these directions were given, I was shown to an old gum,* into which I crawled. Overcome with fatigue, I soon fell asleep. At three P. M. I awoke refreshed, but sore from my hard journey. My guide had not returned, neither had Stephens, who was hid in the woods; so, after eating some corn-bread and wild honey, I started with a little boy seven years old as a guide to Wilson's house. We were obliged to keep in the woods, away from all paths, for fear of meeting strolling parties of Rebels. Such a thing as a wagon-road could not be found on that side of the Beverly pike. A slight fall of rain had made the leaves damp, and we could walk with less danger of attracting attention, which was important, as we were now within the line of the Rebel pickets. I noticed that my little guide broke twigs from the
A section of a hollow tree, as large in circumference as a hogshead, but higher, used by country people to put grain in, or to stow away meat.
41
OWLS.
overhanging boughs to mark the way, so that on his return he might not get lost. He left me near the home of Wilson, which was a very good double log cabin. I climbed into a service-tree, and gave the signal we had agreed upon : three deep, hollow hoots like an owl. An answer came from the woods back of me. It was well for me that I did not ap- proach the house, for in it was a company of Rebel officers at dinner. Wilson had fled at their approach, and was hid in the woods, waiting their departure.
It was growing late, and we went off through the valley to the east, and climbed a bluff on the banks of Valley River, from the top of which I could look into the Rebel camp. I saw tents and horses and men, - men drilling, men working ; I saw rifle-pits and fortifications, on which I could distinguish guns mounted ; and I saw the flag, the stranger and traitor to my soil, flaunting freely in the mountain-breeze. Now, first, did I realize that war existed in my own country.
My guide left me to make observations, and to keep watch. He was to come back at sunset. The Rebel camp was perhaps five hundred yards in a direct line below and to the east. The rain caused a fog in the valley, and put an end to my observations for the night; so I returned to the woods below, hooting occasionally, but getting no reply. It now began to rain very hard, and grew quite dark. I took shelter on the dry side of a leaning oak, not far from a bridle- path, and sat quietly listening to that lonesome mountain warbler, the wailing whippoorwill, whose notes send a pecu- liar thrill through the heart of the wandering scout. Soon I heard the tramp of a horse; nearer, the occasional clank of a sabre ; nearer still, voices : " I say, Sergeant, this is a wild- goose chase. Hart Wilson left these parts more than a week ago." " We are in for a wetting to-night." " No danger of Yanks along these roads, anyhow."
Soon the sounds grew indistinct and died away altogether in the valley below. Six Rebel horsemen had passed with- in ten steps of me. I feared they might find Wilson at home, for they hated and dreaded him; and I renewed my hooting. No answer but the dropping rain on the thick roof of leaves overhead. I started off in the dark, forded the
4
42
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
river up to my arms, and followed up a little creek till in full view of the smouldering camp-fires. I could hear the sentinels, relief-guards, whistling and laughing at the guard- house. I could see a light in the house, Mustoe's, which I supposed was used as a hospital. I was about to go nearer, when a sentinel passed me, yawned, and struck his musket on the ground.
This trip cost me many hours, and brought me nothing; for although almost in among their tents, I could see noth- ing of importance, and it took me until daylight to get back to the cliff. In the early dawn I found my way to Wilson's, and hooted him out. He invited me in, saying that he was hid near the house till two A. M .; that from the action of his dogs he thought some one was watching him, but when day dawned he found the coast clear. I went in, took some breakfast, and was soon sound asleep; but, for the first time in my life, in a cellar !
At nine A. M. I went once more to the bluff, climbed a tree, and made drawings of the camp and country. At half- past ten started with my guide to Coon Carpenter's, where we found that the Rebels were on our track. We also learned from a Rebel woman, who had been through the camp that morning, as she came from mill, that a train of a hundred wagons had started on the Moorefield road for corn. We made ourselves good Rebels to our informant, and she ap- pealed to us to confirm the news she was telling to Mrs. Coon and her daughters, evidently thinking we were just from camp. Coon was away : so was his son, - hid, I suppose.
Wilson and I now started by a new route to Philippi, on the double-quick. Seeing Rebels on our road, we followed down the Valley River, frequently crossing it. The way was very rough. My clothing hung in tatters. My feet were very sore. When within six miles of camp, I procured a horse, and leaving Wilson, arrived in camp at ten P. M., and reported to Captain Benham, U. S. E., and General Morris, who had arrived the day before from Grafton. I was forty- eight hours on this trip, and marched over sixty-five miles, with little sleep and food.
General Morris sent Major Gordon with despatches, and
r
43
GENERAL MCCLELLAN.
me to report in person, to the Commanding General at Buck- hannon. We started with an escort of six, led by the man who had taken my horse, and bidden me God-speed at the bridge, - Len' Clark, with his deep, intelligent eye peering from beneath his ragged hat. We arrived at Buckhannon without accident, just as the Major-General, with his splendid troops, was entering. Colonel Lander received the despatches
FELLED WOOD
FELLED WOOD
REBEL CAMP
LAUREL
HILLS
CAMP
E
-W
S
for General McClellan, and, while we were eating dinner at the hotel, came for me. We rode to a fine undulating plain, south of the town, where head-quarters were situated, and I was introduced to the little General. He was dressed in a fatigue-cap, a loose blouse, without marks of office, and light-blue pants. He was covered with dust, and was sitting at a little camp-table, on which was a topographical map of Virginia. He looked at me from head to foot before he
44
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
spoke ; then asked every particular in regard to my visit to the Rebel camp, the names of persons whom I met, the route, the hills, trees, streams, &c. I drew for him on a sheet of paper a map of the Confederate camp .*
After I had left the General's tent, a brisk, pleasant little man began talking with me, and seemed very much interested in all I had to say. I supposed him to be a quartermaster, but Col. Lander coming up introduced me to Gen. Rosecrans. - Here for the present ends the narrative of the Scout.
General McClellan had assumed command in person in West Virginia on June 21st. His head-quarters were first at the venerable and sleepy town of Clarksburg, but removed in a few days to Buckhannon, with the intention of advan- cing from this point to the rear of the fortifications on Laurel Mountains, at the western base of which the village of Buck- hannon lies.
The Eighth and Tenth regiments, the former from the eastern, the latter from the western counties of Indiana, after two months in camp, left Indianapolis the 19th of June to repair to West Virginia. The train containing the Eighth stopped at North Bend, on the Ohio, and the aged widow of the brave old warrior and true-hearted President, whose name is dear to the nation, most dear to the West, advanced to the roadside to meet her grandson, Irwin Harrison, the ad- jutant of the regiment. As the young man bent before the frail, bowed woman, while with trembling voice she invoked heaven's richest blessings upon him, and upon all her coun- try's defenders, it almost seemed that the dead lips of a buried generation said, Amen !
The cars were crowded and uncomfortable, but the enthu- siasm of the people, and the beauty of the scenery in Vir- ginia,- where men were reaping barley and ploughing corn by the roadside and on the hill-sides, and where long and high bridges, tunnels, grades, valleys, and mountains form a suc- cession of picturesque landscapes, - more than compensated. The troops reached Clarksburg at six in the evening, and encamped in the rear of the town, in an almost impregnable
* See preceding page.
45
FORBEARANCE.
position, on a bold hill which commands a circuit of three miles.
There was a rumor afloat that Governor Wise, with an army somewhere between ten and fifty thousand strong, was approaching, and the newly arrived regiments were roused at two in the morning to work upon fortifications. In eight hours a breastwork from four to six feet high was thrown up on the north, east, and south sides, and a half acre of timber felled on the west. But instead of Governor Wise came a despatch from McClellan the next day, order- ing an immediate march to Buckhannon. Tents had not yet arrived, but in a half-hour the troops were on their way. That night and the next they lay on the ground in the drenching rain, without any kind of shelter, and received thus their introduction into the hardships of the soldier's life, and their first lesson in the art of grumbling, - the sol- dier's peculiar and inalienable prerogative. An army, num- bering twelve thousand, was now assembled at Buckhannon, and preparations for a speedy attack were unceasing and vigorous.
Meanwhile, the policy of forbearance was adhered to with undeviating resolution. The case of Symmes, the man who shot Colonel Kelley at Philippi, is but a fair example. Colo- nel Lander struck up the weapons pointed at him by the enraged Virginians of Kelley's command, and thus saved his life. He was allowed to board at the best hotel in Graf- ton, and to be quite unmolested in the enjoyment of a slightly circumscribed freedom. Avowed and active seces- sionists, even spies, were repeatedly released with no secu- rity for the future. In return, the most murderous and sav- age warfare was kept up by the enemy. Every forest, gorge, and thicket teemed with lurking foes, who fired without a challenge.
46
THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
CHAPTER V.
LAUREL HILL, AND RICH MOUNTAIN.
THE Sixth, Seventh, and Ninth, with the associated Ohio and Virginia regiments, lay five weeks at Philippi and along the road to Grafton, idly waiting, while the Rebel troops con- tinued industriously to fortify. The impatience of the sol- diers in the preparatory camps was slight in comparison with the impatience of the troops now in the field. They burned with desire for action. They raged against McClellan, be- cause he was weeks at Cincinnati, weeks at Clarksburg, and weeks at Buckhannon, and because his orders were always, to wait. But one day, as fretting and fuming they were scat- tered through the shady grove in which they were encamped, they heard the sound of firing in the direction of the enemy, whose outposts were at the little village of Bealington. At first, here and there; then, thicker and faster. " The Rebels are on us!" " The Rebels are on us!" A cry of joy, a rush to arms, a call to order, and almost instantaneously the line of battle was formed. There was Morris, calm and grave as usual; Love, all animation ; Milroy, his eyes shooting fire ; Dumont, haggard and ghastly, his uniform put on him by unwilling physicians, tottering to his horse, but now sitting firmly, steadily. surveying his command, and saying with spirit : " Let them come; we are ready !" Virginia and Ohio were ready, too. But where was Crittenden ? Where was the gallant Sixth ? Surely the sound of firing ought to rouse them from the sleep of death! As the question ran from man to man, a reconnoitring party sent out by the General returned with the information that Colonel Critten- den's regiment was drilling on the Bealington road, and at this moment was engaged in a mimic battle. Deep as had always been the disgust of the loyal troops towards the Rebels, it never was so intense as at this moment, when, chagrined and crestfallen, they dispersed to their tents.
47
MARCH TO LAUREL HILL.
At this time, and indeed during the whole year in West Virginia, men were seldom or never detailed for a hazardous duty, unless volunteers were so numerous it was necessary to restrict the number. When a party was ordered to the execu- tion of some undertaking, it was not unusual to find in the ranks double the proper number, -to find Company A, for instance, counting two hundred instead of one, and each man of the two hundred bearing in his countenance, if not on his tongue, an assertion that he was in his proper place.
Colonel Dumont was ill during the greater part of the stay at Philippi,-so ill that at one time alarm was felt, and his officers urged him to be removed to Grafton, where he could be comfortably accommodated. Stretched out on his camp- cot, with no luxury, not even a comfort about him, the suffer- ing man replied : " No, never! When my boys get sick they lie here, and, if it must be, die at their posts. They don't get off, and I won't go, either."
July 6th, the President's Message was received, and the hearts of the Volunteers, as by the light of the setting sun they read that manly, honest document, responded to the great heart which throbbed in the breast of the ruler and leader of the nation. That night, when they wrapped them- selves in their blankets, and lay down on their hard beds, within them glowed the purpose and the enthusiasm which lofty thoughts kindle, and which make the soldier's pallet nobler than the king's couch.
Before many hours, the sleeping camp was aroused, and midnight saw the long hoped-for march to Laurel Hill begin. The Ninth, preceded and flanked by skirmishers, formed the van. In order followed the Fourteenth Ohio, Cleveland Artillery, First Virginia, Seventh Indiana, Body- Guard, General and staff, three companies of the Sixteenth Ohio, Sixth Indiana, and Guthrie Grays, - about five thousand in all. Not a word was spoken, except of command, and not a sound broke the silence of the night, but the rumbling of wheels, and the steady, rapid tramp, tramp, of the troops. As the thousands of glimmering camp-fires died away in the distance, a misty moonlight half revealed and half concealed the dangers of the winding road, the threatening forests, the
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.