USA > Pennsylvania > Adams County > Gettysburg > A brief history of the Fourth Pennsylvania Veteran Cavalry, embracing organization, reunions, dedication of monument at Gettysburg and address of General W. E. Doster, Venango County Battalion, reminiscences, etc > Part 7
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
83
that battery. I remember that for at least an hour, if not more, it was a very warm place to be. The rebel batteries on the opposite hill had got in direct range of our battery, and they were sending the shot and shell in there pretty thick and fast. The range was so perfect, as you remember, their close, solid shot came, as it were, all to a certain point upon the crest of the him. Then all at once, it seemed they began to descend, passing right over the heads of the regiment so closely that we almost unconsciously, as we did on that occa- sion and often before, ducked our heads, and instantly got up again; and many was the remark made in reference to it. About that time, I remember a commotion throughout the ranks, and in few moments we learned its cause. Word was brought to us that Col. Childs had just fallen, mortally wound- ed. I think there was not a member of the regiment that did not feel at that moment the loss of Col. Childs. He was a manly officer, and a brave soldier. We felt keenly at the time our loss. We had another officer just at that time who had not had an opportunity hitherto of displaying much courage on the field. I refer to the talented Col. Kerr. I was close by his side and remember well, when the word came that Col. Childs had fallen, the remark he made, I think to the bearer of the message. Col. Childs sent a request, I believe, that he wished to see Col. Kerr. The Colonel studied a moment and said "No, sir; my place is now with the regiment." From that moment on Col. Kerr rose highly in my estimation as an · officer, and I believe did good service thereafter.
It was only this morning that the Major asked me to make some remarks upon Antietam, and asked me to think up something during the day. I will just ask the rest of my comrades whether you have thought of much to-day ? That is, whether you had an opportunity to think of much. There was a great deal done; we have all been busy. As the boys say, "I have a big head on me" to-night; I can't account for it. I leave it to Dr. Seip, whom I believe you all know to be a good physician, and understands his business, to judge as to whether it was caused by what I have taken here to-night. (Dr. Seip-The supper ought not to cause it.) Therefore, comrades, thanking you for the kind attention you have given
84
me, and with the wish that you may enjoy many more such reunions, I bid you good night.
COMRADE JOHN HUSTON :- I rise for a personal explana- tion, if I am in order. (Major Maitland :- Certainly.)
I would like to say that when I was a small boy I was born of Scotch-Irish, Presbyterian parents. We traced our ancestry back on my father's side to the Bruce family; and I must say that I was taught in my youth to be truthful in all things; but in an evil hour, when I was a small boy, I was apprenticed to the printers' trade, and, like all printers, devel- oped into a most excellent liar. [Laughter.] Why, my dear Major, I was responsible for quite a number of those lies in the Forest Press, as I was for some lies in the Oil City Der- rick. I was a good liar; but, thank God, I never assailed any man's private character in all the lies that ever I was guilty of expressing, nor did I ever assail any community. But here I hold in my hand a copy of a mugwumpian paper published in this city, the Pittsburgh Dispatch, wherein I find one of the most amazing lies that I ever saw in my life. They have the audacity to publish, under the title of " Short Stories," a scur- rilous account of the Major's life and character during the war. I would like to read it to you, if I can see. When the press stoops to insult an entire brigade, and to villify a good soldier, it is time to call a halt. Now I will read for your edification:
.
" Major Maitland, of the Fourth, was in the habit of enter- taining quite a number of infantry officers-" Now, the idea of it ! Entertaining infantry officers at dinner ! A lie at the start. It's preposterous ! "And the Major had a cook by the name of Hannah-" Did ever any of you gentlemen hear of that Hannah ? (Laughter, and cries of "What's the matter with Hannah?") The piece goes on to state that the Major had quite a number of infantry officers around the table, and the spoons fell short-
When he arrived at this point in his speech, the audience was convulsed with laughter and applause, and then
MYJOR MAITLAND arose and responded as follows:
It was an infantry soldier. I believe, whom I heard relate. that, when he first went into the war, he studied and practiced
-
-
85
strategy. Very often when he might have attacked the ene- my directly, he made a detour. He had been taught in that way, and said he, the first time I ever saw an army I was behind a tree. Well, the enemy was coming directly for that tree, and I got to one side and to the other side, but the bul- lets came pecking in, and pecking in, and finally I had to leave the position. There was a cavalry-(no, I beg pardon, not a cavalry Chaplain,) but there was a Chaplain there who also believed in strategy. He wasn't willing to make an open, direct, straightforward attack. So the Chaplain made a detour. and this infantry soldier (of course, cavalry wouldn't do that) made a detour also. But the enemy pressed forward, and finally one of the Chaplain's limbs was taken off, and one of the infantry soldier's limbs was taken off also; both lying there indiscriminately in the road. There was a new surgeon there, and he, not knowing which belonged to the infantry soldier and which to the Chaplain, took up the Chaplain's leg and put it on the infantry soldier, and vice versa. After a time they came together to celebrate this victory. They were having a jolly time. The infantry soldier was a man of not very correct habits; he was like our friend Seip-always sigh- ing for the canteen or appollinaris, or something of that kind. He went into one of those little places of business where the canteen' was freely used-(A voice: Speak-easy.) No, sir; we didn't know anything of that kind; there were no speak- easies until Pittsburgh introduced them. Well, this infantry · soldier was standing holding a glass in his hand, and was about to drink to that great victory, when, what should come up but that foot. The Chaplain's leg protested against that, and the glass was immediately shaken out of his hand. [Laughter.] He looked out, and he saw the poor Chaplain being dragged into that place by the infantry soldier's limb. [Laughter.] So you will see, both these men were unfortun- ate, and I have it, upon the best information, that a short time ago this infantry soldier (who is now a reformed man, and gets along comfortably well with this limb which is not his own, but belongs to the Chaplain), went to a prison to talk to the convicts, and there came out one dressed in prison garb. He thought he saw something familiar in his face. It was the
86
former Chaplain. That leg had taken him to State's prison ! [Laughter.] Now. I do not vouch for the truth of this story, .it was told by an infantry soldier.
I will not answer this newspaper story you have just heard. You know me too well. I know of no Hannah. [Laughter, and a voice: "No, it's a newspaper lie, of course it is ! ] The name of the only lady I know is Etta. Now, this matter has been suppressed again and again. In my county I am know as a Prohibitionist, and this story has done me immense injury. I fact, I think it is largely due to this story that I was defeated for the Mayorality on the Prohibition ticket last Spring at Oil City, and I am surprised that a com- rade should bring it into this audience as he has to-night and give it further publicity. I want the newspapers to retract it; take it back.
MAJOR PHIPPS being called upon spoke as follows:
I discover that the Fourth Pennsylvania Cavalry still retains one of its chief characteristics, and that is of pitching into anything it finds. The way you did business the first half hour or so after you came into this room put me a little in mind of Captain Grant. I believe it was on the Kilpatrick, or the Richmond raid, as it was called; we were gone some sixteen days without anything to eat. The Captain captured or had given to him about three gallons of cabbage. He ate it all for dinner and got sick. [Laughter-Voice, “ Pickled cabbage !" ]
Major Phipps :- Yes, Pickled cabbage.
Comrades, we meet to-night under much different cir- cumstances from that of twenty-six or twenty-seven years ago. Then we were called together by the sound of the bugle. To-night we were called together by the bugle-blast of a "calling-wood " (Collingwood). Always obey that blast when it calls on you and you will have a good time. Comrades, we meet again to-night to reburnish the golden links that bind us together as comrades. I am no speech maker, and I feel very different in the presence of these distinguished guests, and my wife is here. I feel a little to-night in the condition of a com- rade of my old command the first fight that we were engaged
87
in. By-the-way, I presume the comrades remember the screech or sound of the first shell. I do! It was during this engagement, the first shell, or screech of shell that I heard, I made up my mind that it was coming straight for my head. I had charge of the skirmish line; and I wanted to be as brave as possible. I rolled off my horse flat on the ground until I heard the shell explode about a half mile beyond me; when I got up, got my horse, and made up my mind that I would go back to the skirmish line and do my duty. We had one com- rade that I could not keep in line; he would be constantly falling back to the rear. About the third time I went to him and said "John, you want to keep up in line, the boys will all begin to call you a coward." He said, " I don't give a d-, my horse is too white to stand up there." That is a little the way with me to-night; my horse is a little too white to make a speech in the presence of these distinguished guests.
As I look into the faces of my old comrades to-night, I can only think of them as the brave, noble boys of one of the grandest regiments that ever marched to the defense of a nation's honor; a regiment composed of men who were always characterized by their undaunted bravery, unflinching courage, and unwavering adherence to the right; possessed with a rec- ord resplendent with the noblest achievements of modern warfare; always prepared to do and to die for the eternal right. The history and glorious achivements of the Fourth Pennsylvania Cavalry have been written in letters of light on the pathway of our national history. Its name stands out second to none, tested and tried by the heat and fire of over seventy engagements by the precious blood of its members (our comrades) shed on freedom's altar for liberty and union. By your bravery, courage and noble deeds when your country was in peril, you have erected for yourselves monuments more lasting than brass, and higher than the royal structure of the pyramids. Union now and forever, one and inseparable was your motto; infallible patriotism was your strength; immuta- ble fortitude your support; your lofty watch-words, Philan- throphy, Fraternity and Equality; your inspiration the grand old stars and stripes that you followed from Drainesville to Appomattox, from victory to victory, until you at last saw it
88
purified, redeemed and saved, so that to-night it floats out to the breeze majestic and grand, honored and respected by every nation, and in every clime beneath the sun. My com- rades, the proudest moments of our lives was when after the din and smoke of the battle had rolled away at Appomattox, our exultant voices joined in the grand old anthem: "The Star Spangled Banner"; stainless and sacred as it ever shall be, we brought it back without the loss of a single star. We meet to- night as comrades proud of our old regiment, proud of our record, proud of each other, and of the part we took in one of the greatest struggles for human liberty recorded in the pages of history, either ancient or modern. The world may call us heroes; historians may perpetuate our deeds, but my comrades, let us remember that the acoutrements of war have long since been laid aside, peace has married progress. We have lived to see the golden band of prosperity encircle 43 states in this glorious Union, peace and prosperity crown the nation unparalled in the annals of time. What the world needs to-day is a progressive philanthropic people. We have been soldiers and patriots, but above all let us be magnan- amous American citizens and may it be our inspiration to place one more impregnable rock upon our national structure, and as it rests there throughout the ages, what shall we have it represent, Liberty ? No! for that was built into its very foundations by the patriots of the revolution. Patriotism ? No! for that has been rolled there by the immortal heroes of Yorktown and Appomattox. Mutual beneficense ? Yes ! there is the place for that mighty rock, it will crown the summit of our mighty structure and cast a halo of glory and peace over all people. Do this, and we will leave behind us footprints on the sands of time that can never be washed away by the storms of the ages to come: an irreproachable reputation and a character that the world will cherish and admire forever. My comrades what can I say of the immortal heroes, our noble comrades, once with us but now are no more; It seems to me my poor speech would be inadequate for the task of expressing our feelings in regard to them, our noble dead; we remember them as comrades, we remember them in the camp, on the long and dusty marches, in the desperate
89
battle and deadly strife, in storms of shot and shell, and in the terrible charge, their sabers gleaming in the sun; we remem- ber their last parting words to loved ones as their noble young lives went out on the field of carnage, their heroic blood mak- ing rich the land we love, and brighter the red stripes of that old flag they followed to the death; their names would make a long list of heroes to be added to those that are silently sleeping on fame's eternal camping ground. Could we call the roll of our comrade heroes, we would find the names of the gallant Childs-revered by all; the brave, noble Covode; a Duncan, a Mays, a Welton, a Harper, a Phipps; and a host of others whose names have been written in azure with letters of dia- monds on the pages of our country's history. They have long since passed into the realms of peaceful slumber, immortalized by the splendor of their matchless conduct and bravery on every battlefield in which they were engaged. They have long since passed within the veil, but we still remember their comradeship and their matchless bravery; let us cherish their memories and emulate their virtues, with the unfailing hope that after life's work is over, crowned with the imperishable chaplet of duty and labor well done, we shall meet them on celestial shores of eternal rest, amid brighter scenes, in happier realms of eternal joy.
After tendering our genial host, Mr. B. C. Willson, a vote of thanks for his liberality and special efforts in making this one of the most enjoyable reunions held in this city, the com- rades, after a general hand-shaking, adjourned to meet in Butler at our next reunion.
90
REMINISCENCES.
EXTRACTS FROM CAPT. HYNDMAN'S HISTORY OF CO. "A."
October IIth we encamped for the night on our old grounds at Sulphur Springs, where on the eventful morning of October 12th, 1863, we crossed over on the north side of . the Rappahannock, halting between Warrenton and Sulphur Springs. We were preparing to go into camp when "Boots and Saddles" was sounded, and we were soon on the march back to Sulphur Springs. Crossing the river, we proceeded to Jefferson, where we found the Thirteenth Penn'a. engaged with Stuart's Cavalry. Our regiment was soon deployed and engaged with the enemy. Towards evening the Rebs closed in on us from all points- infantry and cavalry-the whole of Ewell's Corps being present. They came charging upon us in front and on both flanks, we were driven back and almost surrounded ; but I am proud to record the fact, that our small force fought with desperate resistance against such tremendous odds. Several daring charges were made by portions of our regiment. A number of both regiments suc- ceeded in reaching the river at different points, and dashing into the water, made their escape. Many of us however were not so fortunate. In order to keep the road open to the river. those who were mounted made repeated charges along its banks.
While in the act of making the last of these, I was severely wounded. The ball entered my right ear, and, as I afterward learned, came out at the back of my head. I dropped insensible from my horse, and did not become conscious until the enemy, some time after, began to rifle my person, they took my boots, hat and all that was in my pockets. After being taken back a short distance, I found nearly three hundred of our men whom the enemy had captured. Thirteen of these were comrades of my own company and out of this number but few are alive to-day ; the rest having died at Libby or Andersonville. The members of our company (A) who were
1
91
captured were as follows: Orderly Sergt. Welton; Commissary Sergt. McLaughlin ; Privates Boyd, Fritz. Schultz, Moyer, Stahler, Ward, Smith and myself. We arrived in Richmond on the 15th, and were confined in a large tobacco warehouse, denominated "Libby Prison, No. 4." Here we first experienced prison life. The bill of fare consisted of half a pound of corn bread a day to each man, and very seldom any meat.
Obliged to carry our own rations, (such as we received,) every day to the prison, we got a breath of fresh air. A detail of 40 or 50 was made from among the prisoners each day, who, with pieces of old blankets, proceeded under a rebel escort to the bake house, the rations were thrown into these old blankets and carried to the prison. The dead house was adjacent to the commissary department, thus we passed the ghastly charnel of our dead comrades daily, and glanced at it with heavy hearts, we felt that our own emaciated bodies would soon be numbered among its corpses. Having decided to make my escape, and not caring to have more than one com- panion in the perilous undertaking, I proposed my plan to all the members of my own company separately, but none of them thought it feasible. I at last found my man in Corporal Alex. Welton, "Co. K," he was eager to make the attempt with me, and knowing him to be brave and prudent, I at once took him into my confidence, and we matured the plan by which we made our escape.
We each succeeded in securing a rebel cap and we already had old, tattered grey jackets, and now felt ready to make the attempt, we got detailed together to assist in carry- ing rations. Taking our positions about the centre of the column as it moved out of prison in files of two, we each had a piece of blanket around our shoulders, and our rebel caps under our arms; the column was protected by one rebel guard in advance, one in the rear and one Corporal a little forward of the centre. We requested the comrades in our rear to promptly fill the gap in case we stepped out at any point, and also take our blankets. Just as the centre turned the corner of 19th street, so that the rear guard could not see us, leaving the ranks quickly, we doned our rebel caps, started
92
down Main street again, and passed the rebel guard in the rear very nervously, whistling the "Bonnie Blue Flag," and trying to assume rebel airs. We quickened our pace in order to turn the next corner soon as possible, and in a short time were at the river, in the vicinity of the Navy-yard. Remaining in this partially secure place for a short time, our nerves became more steady, which gave us renewed courage. Again we started for the suburbs of the city. We walked boldly on until we found ourselves in a small ravine about five miles from the city limits; here we seated ourselves behind a pile of cord- wood, and then for the first time, ventured to open our hearts to each other, and to congratulate ourselves on the success, (thus far) of the undertaking.
After a short rest we proceeded-not knowing whither we were going-and soon met an old negro with an old horse and cart-load of wood. After some hesitation we decided to ques- tion him about the roads, and found we were on the direct route to Harrison's Landing, where the enemy's out-posts were located. We told him we were escaping prisoners, when he at once took an interest in our behalf, and gave all the information he could. He advised us to secrete ourselves until night-fall, and to keep clear of all white men, as the whole neighborhood were in league in order to re-capture escaping prisoners-but, said he, "you need not fear the colored people. they are your friends," and such they proved to be. After parting with our colored friend, we concealed ourselves in underbrush near the road-side until it became quite dark. A short time after a very heavy rain and wind storm set in, the rain coming down in torrents. Onward we sped, Welton grasping my wrist, and thus we hurried along with drooping heads, yet with faintly hopeful hearts, our minds intent on thought. Not a word was exchanged during the entire night. With all its terrors, such a storm was our safeguard.
We arrived at Westover Landing shortly after day- light and concealed ourselves in an old deserted house on the river bank. Secreting ourselves among a lot of corn fodder which we found therein, and being very tired, slept soundly until late in the afternoon. While 'sitting on the river bank we discovered a boat fastened to a pier, we concluded to
93
make this boat our means of escape down the river. Feeling very hungry we crawled up to one of the plantation buildings and discovered a darkey in the yard, whom I recognized as one I had met during the encampment of our army at Har- rison's Landing. He at once took usinside, and after hearing our story, gave us all he had to eat, consisting of a week's rations of corn-meal, which he made into cakes, and a small piece of shoulder, we did not stop until we devoured his entire week's allowance. It was now quite dark, after bidding our colored friend good bye, we at once started for the boat pre- viously referred to. 1
Soon we were in the middle of the James River, silently pursuing our course. It was a cold November night, we were in a leaky boat, bare footed and very thinly clad, but we were seeking our liberty, and these were but as naught. Becoming quite fatigued toward morning, we approached the shore feel- ing that we had passed the most of our dangers, we landed near the mouth of the Chickahominy; after a thorough search we failed to find a single habitation, returning, we sat down on the cold, damp shore, and huddling together, shivered as if we had been seized with congestive chills, encircling each other, we lay down in still increasing misery and suffering. Through fatigue, slumber came upon us, we awoke to find the sun shining bright and clear, we found it almost impossible to rise, being so stiffened and benumed; we again entered our boat, and after an eventful ride of several hours we landed, abandoning . our boat, and taking a direction, as we thought, toward Williamsburg we soon struck a road, shortly came to where it forked. where we found a mile-post which pointed toward Williamsburg, five miles distant, and, after five long hours of agony. we reached our picket line, and were taken to the provost-marshall's; next day we were conveyed to Fort Mc- Gruder, where we received every attention. After a few days recuperation, we were taken to Fortress Monroe, and at once conveyed to Gen. Meredith's headquarters; he supplied us with everything necessary from the Quartermaster's Department. The following day we were sent to a camp of distribution at Baltimore. I applied for and was granted a furlough; Welton preferred being sent at once to the regiment.
94
RECOLLECTIONS OF COMRADE H. CRAWFORD, RELATIVE TO THE DEATH OF COL. JAMES H. CHILDS.
Will give you my idea of this occurrence. When we filed to the left of the road after crossing the bridge in support of the battery in front of us, (name of the battery does not occur to me) there was Companies B. and M. commanded by S. B. M. Young, and Companies E. and A. I think, commanded by Capt. Tumbler, (am not positive about Company E.)
Capt. Tumbler was sent with us to place Tidball's battery at the right of the road at the top of the hill. We had the fence partly torn down and two guns up the bank, and I was lifting on a wheel of one of the pieces, when the rebel battery commenced shelling us. The first shot they fired, hit a dead tree just to the left of the road in front of us. The second shot came down among us, did not explode, but wounded John Irvin, of Co. B. The third shot came down to business, passed under my horse, cut both legs off of my brother Geo. W. Crawford's horse, and killed the next man and horse to him. Sergt. Cramer, of Co. M. was the man killed. The same shot also wounded John Boyce, of Co. B., in the foot. This raised a commotion among us. I took Boyce on my back and when about half way down the hill, our Colonel was hit. I did not stop with my man, but crossed the bridge about fifty yards to a house on the right of the road, where a hospital was being established. When I got back to the regiment they told me the Colonel was dead. When we afterwards advanced over the same road, the spot was plain to be seen where our Colonel had lain on the bank of the road, and we all spoke of the occurence. That morning after we advanced almost to the river, we formed in line and Capt. Herron, of Co. E, rode out in front of the regiment, held up his discharge, told what it was, said "good-bye" and left.
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.