USA > Pennsylvania > History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania volunteer cavalry which was recruited and known as the Anderson cavalry in the rebellion of 1861-1865; > Part 12
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January 12th .- Dr. Alexander called in the afternoon with an ambulance to have us taken to Nashville. Weiler was too sick to be moved, so I was taken alone as far as the crossroads, where, at the house of Dr. Manson, Dr. Alexander had some of our wounded men. Here I found Powell, shot through the knee. Had supper with Dr. Manson, a very cordial sesesh.
I remained in the regimental hospital-a small church edifice situated on one of the side streets near the capitol-just thirteen days, when (on January 26th) I received my discharge, having been pronounced by Dr. Alexander unfit for further service in the field.
My recollection of events at this hospital is not very clear. Most of the time I was ill, having contracted camp diarrhea, from which I was not entirely well until months after I returned North and
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was again engaged in business. The hospital was well filled, mostly with members of the Regiment from the camp, where re- organization was in progress. I was made as comfortable as pos- sible under the circumstances and jollied by visiting comrades from the camp, who wished me, if possible, to remain in service, the more particularly since my name had been mentioned for promotion. Little luxuries in the way of food were also pro- vided, through the exertion of my comrades, from kind house- keepers in the neighborhood, who, for a consideration, prepared nourishing soups, pancakes and the like, which under the condi- tions of my wound, involving the mouth and jaw, were very ac- ceptable. Providentially, I was able to pay for these luxuries with money realized during my imprisonment in the hospital at Mur- freesboro. One of the young surgeons took a fancy to my spurs, which I sold to him for $25, and a wounded Confederate relieved me of an old silver watch, paying me $65-all this, of course, Con- federate currency. It is almost incredible at this period to believe that at that time there were speculators who had sufficient confi- dence in the future of the Confederacy to offer 75 per cent. in greenbacks for this Confederate script; but that is what one of my comrades, who had negotiated the transaction, brought me. In consequence, I was well equipped financially to leave the hospi- tal, which was the more desirable since the sanitary condition of the hospital was in a deplorable state-gangrene, typhoid and chronic diarrhea prevailing. So, having by the kindness of a member of the Regiment-mentioned in my diary as Mr. Stein- secured shelter for the night at a neighboring house, I started at 8 o'clock A.M., on January 27th, with a transport of wounded and convalescents for the North, and after a very rough and painful trip in box cars, which were not heated, though the weather was intensely cold, I reached Louisville on the afternoon of the 28th of January, 1863, and thence, after a few days to recuperate, com- fortably continued my journey home.
MY CHARGE AT STONE RIVER.
FIRST LIEUT. CHAS. H. KIRK, COMPANY E, PHILADELPHIA.
I WAS a Corporal in Company E at that time, and had been selected to carry the Company guidon. For doing this I was not required to carry a carbine. We had forded Overalls Creek and were grouped around a large house. Major Ward was with us. There was a level stretch of country for a half mile to the front and then woods. Animated by a boyish spirit I waived my guidon, and immediately saw a puff of smoke from the woods, then the sound, and lastly, with a vicious thug, a bullet went into a tree at my back.
"Take care, Corporal!" said the Major. "That was a close shot."
At this time a party of Confederate cavalry was seen in our front, making good time for Murfreesboro, and instantly the boys took up the cry, "There they go! Charge them! Go for theni!" Major Ward, who was close to me, yelled, "No, don't go! My orders are to go only this far." Still the yells continued. Some of the men advancing, the Major said, "D-n you! if you will go, I'll go too-charge!" and then all started, without semblance of formation, most of them down the road and others through a gate across a corn field, where the stalks had been cut and put in shocks.
I was yelling as loud as anyone and waiving my guidon like I had seen in pictures, but had never done the like of it before or since, when, somehow, I don't exactly know how, the stick of the guidon got caught in a corn shock, and my next recollection was lying on the ground trying to remember what had happened. My horse stood by me, and I soon concluded to get on him and continue the charge. I got in the road, but the detachment had passed in the woods, out of sight. I saw a few men, down a lane to my right, on which was a frame house, and I went down it to join what I supposed to be some of our own party. As my horse still kept up
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his run, it did not take long to cover the ground between us; but what anxious moments they were, for the four men in the road carried muskets, while all of ours carried short carbines. Then, as I got nearer, I saw they had a butternut-colored uniform, in- stead of the blue we wore. I was too close to them to stop my horse, and doubt if I could have done so anyhow, but in a flash came to me the drill with lances I had seen when I visited my brother Will in his regiment, Rush's Lancers. Down came my guidon to a "charge lance." My first adversary sat stolidly on his horse, fingering the trigger of his musket ; his comrades were in the rear of him, but all my thoughts were on him and I think his were on the peculiar weapon I carried, and his ignorance of its effectiveness magnified its power, for when I got within a dozen paces of him he dropped his musket to the ground and raised his right hand in token of surrender. The others followed his example at once, and for a few moments I had four prisoners on my hands. Soon some of our men came up, only one of whom I now recall, Joe Rue.
Captain Norman Smith now appeared with his Company, com- ing in from the right, and some firing took place in front. The Captain ordered us to advance as skirmishers, across a cotton field, and in the forward movement I divided my attention between the enemy we expected in front and a new Confederate uniform, which a colored man told me had been dropped off the saddle by the rebel officer who had just gone on ahead. I did not find the uniform, but found the enemy behind the fence just in front of us. They reached it first; two of them occupied the panel just in front of me, while in the next panel I saw a bareheaded man crawl through, who came running to us. He had no hat or accouter- ments, and his head was smeared with blood from a wound, and as he came nearer I saw it was Sam Jamison, of Company L, who, in the mix up over to the left, had been batted over the head by a rebel, was captured and escaped, all within a few minutes.
The skirmishers in front were making it hot for us now, and all on our end of the line moved for the woods, from which came yells and heavy firing. I passed Major Ward coming back, sup- ported by a man on each side, a deathly pallor on his face, but telling us in feeble tones to "go on." I went to within twenty-five yards of the fence, from behind which came shots at irregular intervals. I saw my friend Wash. Airey, dismounted and with
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My Charge at Stone River.
saber drawn, calling to the boys to "come on!" and I remember thinking what a dangerous position that was, for he was not over ten yards from the rebel line of battle and looked every inch the gallant officer he was. I saw several of our men lying on the ground and horses rearing ; one seemed to me to spin around on his hind feet. Just near me were Lieutenant De Coursey and Serg. Will Kimber. "This is pretty hot here; let's get out," said De Coursey. "Just one shot more," returned Kimber, and gave it, but got one in return square in the forehead. We were all getting out now, and a little depression in the ground gave us cover and the chance to retreat in good order, and all firing from the front ceased, and was succeeded by some horrible, agonizing cries from some of our wounded back on the field.
We fell back to near Wilkinson's crossroads and slept in the woods all night. It was a quiet bivouac, and many silent thoughts went out to those of our comrades who lay stiff and stark on the field of action, toward Murfreesboro.
WITH OUR CAPTURED WAGON TRAIN.
WM. ANDERSON, COMPANY F, WILKINSBURG, PA.
W HEN our Regiment was ordered on the march which ended, a few days later, in the battle of Stone River, I reported for duty with my Company, but because our teamster was sick I was detailed to drive our Company wagon in his stead. As this part of army life was new to me I was given the privilege of selecting two others to help me, and I chose John McFarland and J. F. Turner, of my Company.
We fell into line with the other wagons, got on to the Nolans- ville pike and got as far as that town when we stopped for the night. Up to this time I had been driving six mules and had my horse tied to the foot of the wagon, but during the night some- one stole one of my mules, and the next day I had to get along with five, and did it very well as long as I had anything to do with them.
Sometime during the day we reached a ravine, and were resting at the time General Wheeler's men captured most everything in the shape of wagons. I was sitting in the front of mine, and very pleasantly occupied just then eating hard-tack, with plenty of sugar on it, and John McFarland was on his horse up on the bank above me, when I heard a yelling which somehow reminded me of old times in Pennsylvania, and I said to John, "There's a school just out. Don't you hear the children?" Just then John yelled to me, "Cut a mule loose, Andy, for the whole rebellion is com- ing !" My belt and side arms were in the front end of the wagon and I tried to get them, but they had got fastened in some of the boxes on the wagon, and just then I had no time to stop for them. I ran to the hind end of the wagon where I kept my horse, but our Company cook was ahead of me, and going off like a streak, and the horse he rode had been mine.
There was terrible confusion now. The rebels were yelling and the rifle balls were thick, but I ran along the line of wagons till I
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With Our Captured Wagon Train.
came to the end of them, and then on up a little hill. Turner, who was behind, yelled to me to keep on running over the hill and he would take me on his horse. Where we were was too dangerous a place to stop, but as soon as sheltered from the fire of the enemy I got on Turner's horse, behind him, and we joined in the running race to Nashville, where we arrived in safety.
BRINGING OUR DEAD BACK TO NASHVILLE.
LIEUT. A. B. COLEMAN, COMPANY L, PHILADELPHIA.
I T was the day after our fight at the battle of Stone River. where we had dashed headlong against the Tenth South Carolina Infantry, posted behind a fence, and been driven back, with a score of our small force killed and wounded. Our Company Commander, Lieut. John W. Jackson, detailed Corp. Chas. H. Kirk and four men, of whom I was one, to go up to where we had our fight the afternoon before, impress a wagon from some farmer in the neighborhood, and load up our dead on it and take them back to Nashville.
We started and soon reached our field. The infantry had already arrived, and their skirmishers were busy popping away at the enemy just off to the left and in a different direction from which the heavy attack came early the next morning. Farmers and country wagons were scarce, and while we waited for our wagon to come we could watch the movements of our infantry, which was all new and interesting to us. The rattle of the skir- mishers never stopped, and to add to the entertainment we were treated to the sight of an artillery duel between two of our guns and two of the enemy's, posted off to our left and front. They fired round shot at us, which ricochetted across the fields but hurt no one. This kept up for quite a while, till one of our Generals came up and said to the batteryman, "Why don't you stop those fellows? Where's Ed?"
Then a young fellow of about twenty stepped up smiling, and saluting said, "Here I am, General."
"Ed, put a shot into that battery and stop them."
Ed carefully sighted one of the guns-a Parrott-and pulled the lanyard. There was an explosion over in the rebel battery, then a cheer from our lines, and the last seen of the enemy they were going like wild for shelter.
Our wagon came at last, late in the afternoon. Our dead were
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Bringing Our Dead Back to Nashville ..
piled in it, and we pulled out as far as Wilkinson's crossroads, where the night was spent. A little after daylight the next morn- ing a terrible infantry firing took place quite near to us in front, accompanied by some cheers and a larger volume of rebel yells. Some artillerymen with led horses stopped long enough to tell us that their battery had just been overrun by the rebels, and then some officers ordered us to "light out" as fast as we could, as the rebels were coming.
Our team had been hitched up at the first noise of battle, and pulled out at once down a road for 100 yards, and then took one to the left. Just at the turn we met Alex. Ramsey and Ed Patti- son, on guard over a lot of ammunition, and told them to come along, but they declined, and in about three minutes the rebels had them. Our wagon kept jogging along, the mules at a sharp trot. We joined the wagons, all anxious to get away, and the yells and firing of rifles and artillery seemed greater than ever, while the peculiar whiz of the rifle ball was ever in the air. We had left the road by this time, cutting across fields, and all the time at a jog trot. The tailboard of our wagon got loose and the body of Major Rosengarten commenced sliding down from the pile of bodics. There was nothing to do but stop our wagon, crawl in over the bodies and lift the Major's body back to its 'place, then start off again. This happened so often that the other wagons all passed and we were left to follow alone. A line of the enemy's cavalry came up in our rear, about half a mile away, and occasionally sent a shot after us, and the only reason I could think of why they did not send a few men and capture us, was that they thought our wagon, off by itself, was only a decoy to draw them on. Even the stragglers from the broken infantry, who had been keeping us company, had passed on. This kept on for an hour, when we reached Lavergne, where some of our troops were and where the other wagons had assembled. The Michigan Engineers had had a sharp fight here only a couple of hours before, defeating Wheeler's cavalry. All about the place was an air of subdued excitement, for while they had won the first round in the battle, it was not yet determined who would be the victor in others that might come.
After a short halt here our wagon started off alone to Nashville, fifteen miles distant. It was an anxious trip for us, as the enemy's
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cavalry had all been thrown to the rear of our army and we were continually hearing of them all around us. Besides this, the strag- glers from the field of battle were almost as bad, as they told such terrific tales of what they had done and how much more terrible the rebels were; of "how their regiment was all cut to pieces- not twenty-five men of it left alive"-until one felt almost as craven and disheartened as the cowards who had run away from their command. The rear of an army is the worst place to judge how the battle is going in front. At one point in the road an infan- tryman, mounted on a mule, galloped by us. He had all his ac- couterments with him, and as he passed he yelled to us, "Look out, boys ! the rebels are just behind !" Five minutes later he came back, without mule, hat, gun, haversack, and told us that the rebels were on that little knoll just in front, in plain sight ; that they had cap- tured him there and were waiting for us. But we passed in safety and saw no sign of an enemy. It was a weary, hard, anxious day, and there was no let-up to it until near dusk, when we passed within the line of our pickets and soon after reached our old camp.
THE CHASE BROTHERS.
SERG. SIMEON LORD, COMPANY E, PHILADELPHIA.
T HE Chase brothers I shall never forget. I can sce them now, arm in arm, sauntering around camp, just as affec- tionate as two sisters-indelibly marked with gentleness and refinement, giving an insight of the cultured home and gentle- folk they parted from when they pledged their services to their country.
I would look at them and contrast their past with their present life and doings, and thought-how will they meet it and what will be the end ?
It came quickly, sad and pathetic. Richard, the younger brother, in the charge at Stone River went gaily into the fight and met his death. But an hour before he had been reading from Homer's "Iliad" and giving its translation to those around him as they rode forward, and the first knowledge that many had of his death was seeing his riderless horse, to whose saddle was strapped the book from which he had so lately been reading. In the charge he had ridden right up to the fence, behind which the rebels lay, and when driven back was one of the last to leave, going at a slow trot, with body bent and face to the foe. The ball that killed him entered his right cheek and passed up into his brain. His friend John K. Marshall, going by a moment later, seeing him lying on the ground, dismounted and tried to raise him up, but his Lieutenant, John W. Jackson, called to him to "fall back," as all were retreat- ing. This occurred within fifty yards and in full sight of the rebel line of battle, but not a shot did they fire. Such a record of death tells of his courage and culture.
Beverly, after the death of his comrade and brother, gave evi- dence that his heart was bleeding, lonesome and ever flooding with grief over his great loss.
After the battle of Stone River I was stationed at department headquarters as Courier Sergeant, and for a time lost sight of
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History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry.
Beverly. Often I would think of him. Later on I was told he was taken prisoner.
After the capture of Atlanta, and while stationed there, Com- rade Balmar reported to me to be cared for. He had just gotten to Atlanta after his escape and perilous, winning flight from Andersonville prison. I instantly thought he might know some- thing about the captured Chase brother. From him I got the story. In the charge at Dandridge, Beverly's horse was shot, and he with thirteen others was taken prisoner, and went through with them to Andersonville. He was one of the most cheerful among them and did much to keep up the courage of some who were downhearted. Although not yet of age, he had taken one voyage at sea and been shipwrecked, and gleefully told the others that the hardships in front of them were not equal to those he had passed through. His was a lovable disposition, and all his Comrades were drawn to him, but his stay was short. He entered Andersonville on the Ioth of March, 1864, and eleven days after he died of rapid consumption.
The Chase brothers gave to their country "the full measure."
FROM STONE RIVER TO LIBBY.
ASSIST. SURGEON GEO. F. MISH, MIDDLETOWN, PA.
T HE Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry broke camp at Nash- ville, Tenn., on the afternoon of December 26, 1862, and started for the front. This was a novelty to inexperienced men who had only backed their horses at Louisville, Ky., three weeks before, and ridden across the State of Kentucky to Nash- ville, Tenn., being between two and three weeks on the way. It was a gloomy outset, in mist and rain. However, the Regiment, anx- ious to be engaged, displayed fine spirit, and cheerfully and boldly moved on in the darkness. After a march of seven or eight miles they encamped near a small village and halted for the remainder of the night. After a few hours rest the march was resumed. This continued until we approached Stone River, when we were apprised by the distant roaring of artillery that a battle was immi- nent. The set and determined faces of the men indicated that they were alive to the impending struggle, and that they were resolved to do or die. I myself was deeply impressed-perhaps battle- fright or something akin to awe and dread of conflict between the two vast armies clashing in fire and thunder of cannon. My own war experience was nil, and being at a loss to know how to proceed, I inquired of Major Rosengarten, in command. He replied, "Keep to the rear and follow us." After a short rest and inspection and instruction to the men, we moved on toward the front. Soon our march became a run and charge into the thick of the fray. At this stage it was difficult to keep up with the body of wild and excited warriors, and I lost some ground, but followed as fast as I was able. Not having the same incentive to distinguish myself as a combatant, with no arms either to attack or defend, I was only useful when it was the misfortune of another to suffer. My turn, however, soon came.
The road lay between woods, and I observed a group of our men on the right of the road in the forest, and riding up found the
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situation I dreaded. Here, in the midst of the squad, was Major Ward, and I saw by his features that he was mortally wounded. I told the men to lay him upon a blanket which I had unrolled from my saddle, which being done, I carefully examined his wounds. They consisted of a ragged, gaping laceration of his right breast, several ribs shattered and the lung mangled, attended with copious hemorrhage at every breath. Whatever was possible under the circumstances I did to relieve him, but it was a useless service. I was called off to attend others in the neighborhood who were suffering, and while engaged in this duty, accompanied by three or four of the boys whose names I cannot recall-I think Jeff Dennis was one of them-I was interrupted by several coming up and telling me that I was wanted by an officer. I inquired, "Who? What does he want ? Tell him I am engaged." "Come on ! it is a rebel officer." In a moment or two I met the officer. (It is necessary here to make some explanation. While treating Major Ward I had a number of wide, white bandages, which were un- rolled, and for convenience had wrapped them on my arm and car- ried others in my hands, which unrolling and fluttering in the breeze might have been mistaken for a white flag; at all events giving me a marked appearance.)
The officer introduced himself as Colonel , of a South Carolina Confederate regiment, and demanded an explanation of my white display, which he said "he supposed was for a truce, and whether it was so?" Replying, I stated that I was a U. S. Surgeon attending to my duties, and what he judged was a flag of truce were bandages and dressings for the injured. He instantly recognized my green sash, a Surgeon's insignia, and my regulation U. S. medical cap, and said, "Well, doctor, I mistook you for a bearer of a flag of truce. Proceed with your work- recognize your dead;" grimly remarking, "There they lie; secure their valuables-be active!" This was in the face of a thousand rifles leveled toward us, over and between fence rails, their muz- zles gaping at us, and the men behind the guns ready to fire at the least provocation or by accident. It was anything but a pleasant situation. I hastened, under the circumstances, to perform my gruesome duty ; my sensations were overwhelming. In a few short moments-Major Ward, dying; here, lying stark dead, Major Rosengarten, Sergeant Herring and a number of others-I sup-
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From Stone River to Libby.
pose ten or fifteen; their names I cannot remember, but they are all known and their memories honored for their gallant charges, exhibiting wonderful bravery. After hurried, speedy work, we were called off and ordered to the rear.
I told the Colonel that I wanted to return to my men. He quickly replied, "That cannot be ; you are within our lines and must remain with us." I saw that it was useless to protest, and with a heavy heart joined my comrades ; then I realized I was a prisoner of war. We fell back, under guard, through the Confederate lines that had slaughtered the brave boys lying where we saw them. I wondered then how any of them escaped, for as far as I could see in either direction the fence, which served them as a barricade, was lined with troops. After being pressed by our guards for about an eighth of a mile, we reached a planter's house. Here was shown an instance of how our boys exhibited their ability to take care of themselves. The guards took us into the kitchen, where a number of men-Confederates-were taking their supper. I don't know whether we were asked to take part or not, but we all took seats, and at that board we partook of a hearty meal of hog, and corn pone and rye coffee, the last square meal we had for many days after that.
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