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 37
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Before I got to the hole in the fence I was gathered in by a big rebel Colonel. We were taken to the rear and put in charge of a
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guard, and then we were searched for money. Anything that took their fancy was taken away from us. I had forty dollars, but persuaded them to let me keep ten dollars of it, which they very reluctantly did. Knowing full well that this would not be the last search, when I got an opportunity I placed that ten-dollar bill between my skin and shirt, and there it lay until I reached Belle Isle, where I invested it in five pounds of rice and a five- pound bale of Lynchburg smoking tobacco.
We were soon put in charge of another guard a little farther on the road ; here we were relieved of our overcoats, and then we took up our march to a log cabin, where we stopped for the night.
In the morning of Christmas day, 1863, we were marched to Morristown. There was no good cheer ; everything looked, and was, cold and dreary. I don't think any of us knew it was Christmas.
We were handed over to the Provost Guard, who kindly ushered us into our sleeping apartments for the night, in a two-story stor- age house. In our party was a Tennessee guide who had been cap- tured while scouting the day of our little charge at Dandridge, and had just joined us at this place. He had been with Colonel Palmer all through this campaign up to the 24th of December, and was well acquainted with that part of the country, particu- larly Morristown.
We were no sooner in the building than he was coolly planning to escape. He had an uncle living within sight of our temporary prison, whose house he pointed out to us. He asked the rebel Captain if he would allow him to visit his uncle the following day, and the Captain gave his permission pleasantly and gener- ously.
At dark we all lay down to rest. We still retained our blankets. We rested pretty well until about daybreak, when we heard con- siderable commotion downstairs among the guards. The Cap- tain came up and ordered us all in line, to be counted. When he counted two or three times over he was satisfied that four noble Yanks were missing. He was very angry, of course, but he could not get it into his thick head how the Yanks got out of that store- room, unless the guard had been bribed. By this time the brave guide and his companions were well on their way to the Union lines, which I learned, after my release, they reached in safety.
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Their escape bothered the Captain so much that he concluded the house was not a safe place to keep Yankee prisoners in, so we were marched to the outskirts of Morristown and driven into a miserable, low log hut-a "charcoal pen." The hovel was, as near as I can remember, about twelve by eighteen feet, and so full of ventilators that we received the full benefit of all the snows and rains and wind.
We were in this hole from the 26th of December until January 26th, suffering from the cold and lack of food, and being choked and blackened with the smoke. Fortunately there was no sickness among us, for we were all young and hearty. We were taken out one day and started for Bristol. This we reached, fagged out and hungry, without any accidents and not a great deal of excitement. There was a train in waiting, with other prisoners. Some tinie after our arrival it moved off. The only provender available in this remote spot of the United States was the golden grains of corn, served to us on the cob. It did not worry us much, this being fed like hogs. We could put up with it a little while longer. We had our heads swelled with the idea that we were going to be exchanged. The guards always answered our questions that way. They kept us together by these false reports.
One cold and dreary night, in the month of February, 1864, we rolled into the city of Richmond-hungry, cold, dejected-won- dering what would happen next. We were marched through the streets of the city and stopped before Scott's tobacco warehouse. We entered one of the press rooms, and to our disgust found the walls covered with a thick, filthy substance, the remains of the tobacco process which had before been carried on there. Some of my fellow-prisoners eagerly stripped it from the walls and floor with their penknives, so great was their craving for it. Seeing the comrades hastening to a place where soup was being dis- tributed, I fell in line, but on my return I discovered to my great discomfort that my blanket had been stolen. Often afterward I felt the need of this friend. Having stayed here long enough to feel the effects of the damp, cold dungeon, we marched out with the hope that we were about to be exchanged, but this was only a hoax on the part of the guards.
Toward evening we arrived at Belle Island. The tempera- ture was so very low that the rapid James River was frozen
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over in one night. Here I first felt the loss of the blanket. I was poorly clad, no other comrades could share their comforts with me, and I had to keep moving in order to avoid freezing. I managed to get a few pieces of green wood, out of which it was hard to make a fire. After making a blaze I put my cold feet into it, and did not know they were frozen until I smelt my boots burning. No care was taken of them during our stay on the island. Toward the end of the month we were again ordered into Richmond, with the same idea of exchange. This time we were quartered in the Pemberton warehouse, but only for a few days.
Our next trip was to an unknown destination, which was later discovered to be Andersonville, in Georgia. On the 7th of March we were let into this pen, like a herd of cattle-ragged, half- starved and our hope of exchange crushed. There was no shelter of any kind. It was only a vast expanse, with very few pieces of wood except that which could be had by digging in the ground. Later a comrade and myself received permission to procure mate- rial for a covering. This material consisted of pine cones and saplings, of which we built a rough protection from the rain and sun. The saplings were planted in the ground, and their branches, interwoven and covered with cones, formed the roof. There were not enough cones, so a semicircular opening was left in the back of the hut. From this we could watch the proceedings of the gang of thieves in our rear. Beds were formed of leaves and cones, and we could not stretch out when we lay thereon, as the house was not large enough. One of my frozen toes now began to cause me much anxiety, but as we had no drugs I could do nothing for it. The toe continued to get worse, and as I had to perform the duty of going to the brook for water, I stumped and irritated it several times. It became so troublesome that shortly afterward I applied for admission to the hospital, but before gain- ing it was carried to the gates several times and left there, suffer- ing from terrific pain and the heat of the sun, no one noticing me.
Finally, one day in June, I was admitted, but found that the only difference between the stockade and hospital was the shelter and better diet. I made my bed on the ground in a tent until a vacancy occurred through death, when I was transferred to a tent with bunks. The doctors and attendants were seldom seen, and if you were not capable of administering to your own wants you
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were in sad straits. There was little medicine, no lint, and I had great difficulty in keeping gangrene and vermin from my toe. This member continued to get worse all the time.
The latter part of July a squad of surgeons came marching along the avenue, intent on butchering some of us poor fellows, and stopped in front of my tent. Without any previous warning I was selected as a victim, the block was laid and chloroform was administered to me. This was forced upon me, and through my exertions to evade it I became completely exhausted and was seemingly dead for fifteen minutes. When I began to recover they resumed their work of stitching up my toe. This oper- ation was felt very keenly, as I was hardly able to bear it. After I had revived, an attendant came down to the operating table with a tag, on which was my name and number. He ex- claimed : "We thought you were gone, sure. This tag was to be placed on your body and you were to be laid out, as is usual, on the sidewalk, for removal to the cemetery."
As time wore on my wound improved. There were various rumors of exchange. I was creeping about on a cane, and was eager to get away the first chance that offered. One day an order came that every man who could stand the trip was to march to the station. I supposed I could bear it, and fell in line, suffering every step I took, while the blood oozed from my toe. To my great disappointment I was not able to climb aboard the car, and all who could not stand that exertion were sent back to the hospital. Some time later we received the same orders, but were again sent back. We heard that on both occasions the prisoners were shipped to other stockades, and we were glad we had not been accepted. These walks irritated my wound considerably, and extra attention had to be paid it.
At last the glorious, joyful day came. We were given the same orders that had been issued twice before. The doctors walked through the hospital, and all who were strong enough to stand the trip were ordered out. I was selected as one to go. I went to the train as formerly, and after great effort succeeded in getting on. Still we were doubtful of being exchanged, as we had been deceived so frequently before. However, the train moved slowly from the station, with nothing much to interest us but the thought of home, sweet home. At Millen we were ordered off the train
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into the stockade, and all hope of seeing home was temporarily blasted. Some were so heartbroken at being cast into this pen that they died. The next day we were ordered to board the train for Savannah, the cause of delay being a misunderstanding about the transports getting up the river.
On the 20th of November we arrived at the river landing, and there, to our inexpressible joy, we beheld the white harbinger of our freedom, for before our straining eyes lay a rebel steamer flying a flag of truce. When all the prisoners had arrived on board the steamer and signed the record of parole, orders were given to cast off the lines, and soon we were speeding down the broad river to meet our own steamer. How many miles we went . I know not, but late in the afternoon we came to a stop, the steamer's whistle was blown, and in answer to the question of one of the men, the captain of the steamer replied, "Your steamer has not yet arrived, but we expect her at any moment." Again was the whistle blown, but we heard no answer. Was the silence ominous of coming disappointment ?
By this time all the prisoners had become nervously impatient, and all those who could stand upon the deck were watching with straining eyes for the appearance of our steamer. Once more the whistle sounded, its shrill note echoing far over the waters, and from the distant and darkening shores came faintly to our ears the answering signal. "Our boat is coming ! our boat is coming !" was the glad cry of every prisoner. They clapped their hands and cried for joy when she steamed alongside and we beheld once more the old Stars and Stripes. As soon as we had all been re- moved from the rebel steamer to our own and all papers had been duly signed and delivered, the lines were cast off and the steamers parted; and as we merrily speeded down the river, we for the first time truly realized the thrice-blessed fact that at length we were free. No more should we long and crave for food. No more would false hopes be raised only to be blighted. No more should we dream that sweet, mocking dream of home, for were we not even now on our way home? Ah! After all our terrible sufferings we realized this, and our hearts were filled with un- speakable joy as we bid farewell to rebeldom.
THE LAST BLOW AT HOOD'S ARMY.
LIEUT. CHAS. H. KIRK, COMPANY E, PHILADELPHIA.
W E of the old Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, on looking back to the time when we wore the blue and were doing our part to ride down the rebellion and trample it under foot, find a great deal in our experience to be proud of. During most of our war life our Regiment was looked upon as a special organization, and nearly all of its operations were conducted with- out the aid or support of other troops; and any glory that would result from our effort was our own regimental property-not to be shared by åny brigade or division to which we might have been attached.
That we were successful and were appreciated was attested by Gen. Geo. H. Thomas when he indorsed on an application to the War Department to re-enlist as veterans: "The Fifteenth Penn- sylvania Cavalry is the best Regiment of cavalry in my command." And it was a point of pride with us to sustain that high reputation.
There are many exploits over which we veterans of the Fit- teenth Pennsylvania Cavalry love to dwell, but probably the one that is most interesting to us was the capture and destruction of Hood's pontoon boats and wagon train, 250 miles from where General Thomas first struck him in front of Nashville, it being the last blow at a beaten and used-up army.
In Gen. Geo. H. Thomas' official report he says: "To Colonel Palmer and his command is accorded the credit of giving Hood's army the last blow of the campaign, at a distance of over 200 miles from where we first struck the enemy, on the 15th of Decem- ber, near Nashville.
In the very voluminous official report of Lieutenant-General Grant, in command of all the armies, embracing the years 1864 and 1865 and embodying the movements of all the troops in the field, which at that time comprised over 1,000,000 men, he men- tions only four regiments : The Fortieth Illinois, for the successful
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defence of Paducah, Ky., against General Forrest; the Thirty- fourth New Jersey, for the defence of Columbus, Ky .; the First Alabama (colored), in being massacred at Fort Pillow, and then our Regiment in its successful pursuit of Hood's army. His report says : "A small force of cavalry, under Col. Wm. J. Pal- mer, Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, continued to follow Hood for some distance, capturing considerable transportation and tlie enemy's pontoon bridge."
While the battle at Nashville was in progress we lay encamped at Wauhatchie, on the ground where Geary had his brilliant fight with Longstreet a few months before. Although 110 miles from the battle, we distinctly heard the cannonading, while at points much nearer it was not heard at all. This was due to the mountain -- on the side of which we lay-carrying the sound. Although cut off from all communication from the North and our main army, we felt no anxiety about the ultimate result. We had unbounded faith in old "Pap" Thomas, and everyone felt he would pull us through. It was fortunate for Sherman that he did, for had Thomas been defeated, that historic march to the sea would have been Sherman's folly, and "Marching through Georgia" an unsung song.
On the 20th of December, 1864, we broke up our camp and started off for Bridgeport, Ala., which we reached about nightfall, and encamped on an island in front of the town. The rain fell heavily all day, and, in fact, continued for a week, making all the roads very heavy and causing us many extra miles of travel to cross the various rivers and streams that abound in that section. General Steadman met us at Stevenson, just fresh from the battlefield. Some weeks after we found that we had been under his command, but few of us knew it, nor did we see him again until our return from Mississippi.
Passing on through Huntsville, and with difficulty crossing Paint Rock Creek, we arrived at Decatur on the 28th, where we were joined by Colonel Prosser, formerly of our own Regiment, with detachments of several Tennessee regiments of about 150 men, making our total force 500 men. After dark we moved out of town and proceeded carefully for several miles, feeling our way, as a force of rebels, with artillery, was or had been out in our front.
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The slow progress we made and the bitter cold night air made it tedious marching, but soon the sharp crack of a rifle came from a rebel vedette and sent the blood coursing through our veins, and dispelled the gloom that had been surrounding us. Then came the cheers from our advance guard; some more straggling shots, which at last swelled out to a volley ; and the headlong, pell-mell charge of the Regiment down the road, brushing their cavalry out of the way and capturing two cannon with which they had been amusing themselves all the afternoon. They made one feeble effort to charge and retake the guns, but soon desisted and left us masters of the field, and in great humor over our success.
After the confusion attending the engagement had subsided, and our little camp fires lit up the woods where we had made our bivouac, it was found that Captain Remont and four of his men were missing. Diligent search and inquiry failed to elicit any information concerning them, and we went to sleep full of the thought that they had been captured; but about 4 o'clock in the morning Major Betts called to mind that as our Regiment had made its rush down the road on the rebel camp, Colonel Palmer had directed him to send a commissioned officer and four men out on a road that came in on our right, and give notice of any enemy that might attempt to come in on our flank; and on send- ing an orderly out in that direction Captain Remont and his men were found behind a stone wall, holding the road "at all hazard." Notwithstanding Remont got little or no sleep that night, and a very scanty breakfast, he volunteered to take the captured artil- lery back to Decatur, and he did it. This act of his deserves "honorable mention," for it was a hard, thankless job, and he never received any credit for doing it. There is a certain amount of glory attending the capture of a gun, but there is no more honor in seeing it hauled over a rough road to a safe place than there is in helping a wagon train over a mountain.
I know this, for about three weeks later, at Red Hill, Ala., with Lieuť. Harry Weand, we had the good luck to surprise and rout a small rebel regiment of General Lyon's command and capture their only remaining piece of artillery. When Colonel Palmer complimented me for it and put it in my charge to take back to the river, I felt the same thrill that all heroes feel whose actions are appreciated. But about two hours after, when I was trudging
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back with three yoke of played-out oxen hitched to the same cannon-with the Regiment all on ahead, and myself and eight men to whack up the oxen and act as rear guard, with little parties of rebels nearly all the time in sight and hanging on our flanks- the "thrill" had all gone, and I would have traded the compli- mentary remarks for my usual place in the column.
The next day Company D, under Lieutenant Blight, had the advance. While a little group of officers were talking together that morning, someone remarked to Blight that there was one man in his company who wouldn't get shot that day, and that was -, who was notorious for getting out of every en- gagement which he might have been in. Blight replied: "If I don't get him under fire to-day, and keep him there, I'll eat niy shirt !" But when they did strike the rebels, and found it was necessary to dismount and fight on foot, the first man we met coming back with the led horses was - -, and so far as I ever heard Blight never made any change from his usual diet.
Company D not being able to get over a creek, as the rebel fire was concentrated on the only bridge that afforded a passage, Major Wagner with his battalion was sent forward, and · soon found a ford, over which we crossed. It was not long before we got the rebels started, and pushed them for two miles, with our horses on a dead run and going as fast as the sticky mud would let us go. We captured only six or eight of them, but Prosser with his Tennesseeans ran across them later in the day, and get- ting to a good position where they could not run, he charged with the saber and got about fifty.
This was the Twelfth Alabama Cavalry, and the officer in com- mand of it was Lieut .- Col. J. L. M. Curry, a gentleman who, when in our National House of Representatives, John Hickman, of Pennsylvania, had pronounced the ablest man in that As- sembly. Colonel Curry has held many responsible positions since then, and has been the American Minister at Vienna.
One of the tricks of a real bang-up cavalryman was to be on such friendly terms with his horse that the animal would follow him like a dog, and to have him so well drilled that he could dismount and the horse would stand without being hitched, and make no attempt to run when the time came to mount again. They did not all succeed in this. Major Wagner's gray would stand all
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right sometimes, but the majority of the times he wouldn't. It used to be a familiar sight to see the Major trying to coax the old fellow to stop so that he could catch him, and using plain, soothing horse language, but not nearly so vigorous as that which our boys usually spoke on such occasions, and all the time the column would be mounted and ready for the march.
The day we struck the Twelfth Alabama, Wagner and his gray had their circus again. We had halted on the brow of a little hill, while the rebels came to a stop on an elevation, about three-quarters of a mile away, and although there was some firing between us, it was at such long range as not to be dangerous. The ride had been a hard one, and we had nearly all dismounted to give our horses a rest. But when the time came to mount again, and everyone else was ready to move off, Wagner and his horse were walking around that field about ten feet apart, and the horse seemed to evince a decided disposition to desert and go over to the enemy. If that had been my horse, I don't think any language-not even that of an old army mule driver-could have been strong enough to have done full justice to that occasion ; but Wagner never seemed to mind it. He never lost his temper, and when his horse was caught, as eventually he was, by the assistance of half a dozen others, he never even jerked his head almost off, as many would have done, nor did he plunge in his spurs until he brought the blood.
We encamped that night about two miles from Courtland, with the rebels close in front, and showing some disposition to make a stand. As my company (E) was going out on picket duty toward dusk, Prosser's vedettes to the left of us were driven in, and our company moved over toward them for support, but the lines were straightened without our assistance, and we then went on to our own post. Again at IO P.M. another attack was made, and Colonel Palmer sent me word to take the picket reserve and help drive the rebels off, but on the way we met Captain Mc- Allister, who sent us back, as the enemy had been repulsed.
That night Company E had a scare. We were somewhat ner- vous over the general situation, and everyone expected the "Johnnies" to stir us up before morning, but we were going to give a good account of ourselves. About 2 o'clock in the morn- ing, when everyone was dozing away in that expectant mood
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that picket reserves have, with our carbines in hand and saber belts hanging loose around us, Orderly Sergeant John Burton, just opening his eyes from a short nap, saw one of our horses stepping back the length of his halter strap and putting his hind foot down within a few inches of the hand of one of our sleepers. While not yet fully awake, he called out: "Look out ! look out! The horse!" And in an instant every man was up. That por- tion of the post which had been resting around the other two fires rushed to the one where Burton's party were. In the bewilder- ment of the moment, men rushed backward and forward without apparent motive. They jostled each other and were thrown down, but in an instant were up again and on the move. As our senses came back to us it was a beautiful sight to see those boys run to the fence and take position to repel an expected charge, and even then found time to laugh heartily at the oddity of the thing. The disorder did not last over a minute, but it was the most rapid exercise that most of us ever took, on such short notice.
The next morning the Regiment took up its march, and passed through Courtland, crossing a stream just beyond, over a railroad bridge that had been planked for the use of the people here- abouts. On reaching Town Creek, the rebels made a stand, and some little firing took place before they were driven off and we were enabled to cross. Nothing of particular note took place that day. A few prisoners were captured by our advance guard, and after we went into camp, which was early in the afternoon, the "Johnnies" seemed to increase in numbers in our front. The foraging parties that were sent out after forage for our horses were fired at continually, but by this time the novelty of being shot at had worn off, and we trudged along, carrying to our camp heavy loads of corn blades, and the hum! whiz! and ping! of the rebel bullets were hardly noticed.
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