History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania volunteer cavalry which was recruited and known as the Anderson cavalry in the rebellion of 1861-1865;, Part 47

Author: Kirk, Charles H., ed. and comp
Publication date: 1906
Publisher: Philadelphia
Number of Pages: 838


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 47


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We left the bridge burning, but I told the guide we would not go back down the railroad, but take a short cut and strike the road at a little log house in the woods and save two miles. He said, "You will get lost." I told him he had done his duty bringing us in and I would be responsible for getting out. By taking the short cut we not only saved two miles, but also avoided meeting quite a squad of rebel cavalry on the way to the main road. We crossed a ravine which led back to the railroad, and hearing a noise in that direction we looked down, and there were at least three or four times as many rebels as there were of us, but they were more scared than we were, as they were getting away from Captain Kramer at Jamestown.


We arrived at Salem just about sundown, and found the Regi- ment formed, ready to start on a night's march toward Salisbury, N. C. I told the n'en to report to their own companies, and I went to headquarters to make my report, where I received a very hearty reception ; in fact, I was almost pulled from my horse. The first question Colonel Betts asked was :


"Where are all your men?"


"Reported to their companies."


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History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry.


"Lose any horses?"


"No, sir."


"Did you burn the bridge?"


"Yes, sir."


"Did you cut the telegraph wire?"


"Yes, sir."


"Well, Sergeant, I never expected to see you all back alive."


Now there is more to tell in connection with the burning of the bridge, etc. Several days after burning the bridge an orderly came from Colonel Betts and told me to report at the head of the col- umn. I did so promptly, although I did not know but that I was to be reprimanded for confiscating a ham, chicken or even a horse for the good of the United States. To my surprise, however, the Colonel pointed to a rather well-dressed young man, and asked, "Sergeant, did you ever see this man?" I replied, "Not that I can remember ;" when the young man said, "Are you not the Sergeant Wilson who with a few men burned the bridge over Buffalo Creek, two miles from Greensboro, N. C .? " I said, "I am." He said, "Well, I am the man who was walking on the rail- road track. You came up while I was on the bridge, and made me remain until you got the bridge well on fire. When I arrived in Greensboro, Jefferson Davis with his Cabinet and headquarters, expecting to be captured at any time, were in the cars on a siding." I replied, "Had I known that, although I had accomplished all I was ordered to do with the ten men I had with me, I would have attempted the capture."


An after-incident, which has reference to the burning of the bridge, occurred in 1892, when I was in Greensboro on business. One evening, before leaving, I got a horse and cart and started out with the intention of going to Buffalo Creek, where the bridge was burned. Having gone about one mile, I found two colored men sitting on the side of the road, talking. I stopped and asked them how far it was to Buffalo Creek. One of them replied, "About two miles." I asked about the road; he said it was not very good. I said, "I will pay you if you will come with me and show me the road." He got into the cart with me. After going a short distance we got into a very interesting conversation, and I learned that he had been raised not far from the place where the bridge was burned, and carried the news into Greensboro that the


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Burning Bridge Over South Buffalo Creek.


Yankees had burned it. He told me the name of the man who lived near the bridge and helped to cut kindling was W --.


On our way back to Greensboro he told me many things not connected with the bridge affair which were interesting. He in- sisted that I should stop at his house and see his mother. I did, and found ten acres cleared, which was converted into a model home, with small fruits and everything one could desire. This plot of ground a few years before had been a cypress thicket. In his home I found the aged mother, who was active and quite intelligent. While she was very dark, her hair was white as snow. I asked her age. He replied that they had no record of her age, but from the most reliable information he could obtain she was about 103 years old, which I did not dispute.


He told me many things of interest, but do not think they would be considered a part of the history of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Volunteer Cavalry.


MY PART IN THE CAPTURE OF THE THIRD SOUTH CAROLINA CAVALRY.


SERG. WM. MCGEE, REGIMENTAL SADDLER, TOLLGATE, W. VA.


I N the spring of 1865, when General Stoneman with his raiders had reached Salem, N. C., a halt was made, and de- tachments were sent across the country to burn bridges and tear up the tracks of the railroad leading from Danville, Va., to Greensboro, N. C.


Lieut .- Col. Chas. M. Betts took a detachment of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry out on the road in the direction of Greens- boro. I presume the object was to hold whatever rebel force was there while the other detachment was destroying the railroad north of that town. My recollection is that Colonel Betts' command numbered less than 100 sabers. We started from Salem about dark, with Corp. D. A. Hunter, Samuel Skillen, Jno. D. Way- choff, Isaac Worl and the writer of this as advance guard. We marched all night.


A little before daylight we found a covered wagon by the side of the road. A white man was asleep in the wagon and a negro also asleep beside a log. Some of the boys found a keg contain- ing five gallons of tar-heel whisky. The other boys took the keg and pushed on up the hill. I stayed with the captured, and turned them over to Colonel Betts when he came up. I then rushed afier the advance. After going about a mile, found them off in the road filling their canteens from the keg. After that duty was per- formed we took a drink all round from the bung of the keg. We then went forward, in high spirits, and were ready for anything that might happen.


Presently we came to a village called Ridgeville, and halted at the crossroads, at the end of the village. I saw a man run- ning across the street, farther down, and dashed after and halted him. He proved to be a negro. To my inquiry as to what he was doing, he said: "I am a servant to Colonel Johnson,


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Capture of the Third South Carolina Cavalry.


of the Third South Carolina Cavalry, and am taking this letter to the post office. Their camp is only three-quarters of a mile from this town." Then I told him to give me the letter and come with me. When I got back to the crossroads Colonel Betts was just coming up. I handed him the letter and also turned the negro over to him. The Colonel immediately prepared to rush the rebel camp, increased the advance considerably and placed Lieut. Chas. E. Beck in command. The five of us who had been in advance all night asked to be allowed to march at the head of the advance, which was granted. It was now breaking day.


We started, and directly could see the enemy's fires. Our course was down a small valley ; their camp was on a hillside, to our left, as we went down. When about 100 yards from the foot of the hill, where we would turn up the hill to get into camp, we drew our revolvers, and away we went at a gallop, yelling like Indians. When we got to the place where we would leave the road and take the hill obliquely, in looking around to see what was before us I saw a group of men standing by their camp fire, some distance from the main camp and directly to our left. My first thought was that they would get away. I turned my horse out of ranks, went straight at them and fired two shots. By this time I was getting close enough to see that their arms were piled under shelter, so I dashed in between them and their guns and ordered their "hands up," which order was obeyed instantly.


One big, fat fellow, a few feet up the hill above the others, was down on his knees behind a stump, both hands up, and yelling at the top of his voice, "I surrender ! I surrender !"-long sound on the "I."


There were six of them. I had them dress in line, and then handed the man on the right my canteen, and told him they must all drink to my good health, and they did not decline.


Just then John A. Jamison came up, and one of my prisoners asked, "Do you fight this way all the time?" "Yes," I replied, "this is our style of fighting; how do you like it?" I asked them why they didn't get to their guns when they saw me coming up the hill at them. Their story was that the evening before they had started out two scouting parties, and when they saw us coming they thought we were their own men returning, and when they saw me coming straight at them and shooting they lost their heads,


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History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry.


and didn't once think of their guns until it was too late, as I was then between them and their pieces. The reason the Third South Carolina Cavalry was such an easy mark was that until shortly before we made their acquaintance they had been on duty at Charleston, S. C., where there had never been any fighting on land, and they were about equal to a regiment of Home Guards.


If we had run into one of General Wheeler's old regiments as we did into this one-well, I would not, in my seventy-fourth year, be sitting here writing this true story.


A RECRUIT WHO HAD GREAT NERVE.


-


CAPT. FRANK E. REMONT, COMPANY I, MOYLAN, PA.


S HORTLY after 9 o'clock on the evening of April 10, 1865, our battalion, under Captain Kramer, consisting of eighty- six officers and men, took one of those all-night rides with which we had by that time become very familiar, but which we never learned to love. It was to cut off the retreat from Rich- mond, Va.


Approaching Jamestown, N. C., toward morning, the tooting of a locomotive caused us to quicken our pace. I had the advance guard of twelve men, and charging through the town to the rail- road depot, we drove off the Confederate guard and captured seven cars and a lot of merchandise stored in the depot. Here we halted, to make a thorough job of burning our spoils. At the same time a charge by the larger part of the command resulted in the capture of the railroad bridge over Deep River, and this was also fired and consumed.


Our great success was undoubtedly largely due to the fogginess of the morning, for the rebels were in greater force, but our exact number was concealed by the haze, in consequence of which the enemy quite likely exaggerated our forces.


One of the men placed on picket while the work of destruction was in progress at the depot, George Alexander by name, is still living in the city of Reading, Pa. His horse, like many others in the command, had become unserviceable from hard riding. Instead of going back to the depot when relieved he went out in the coun- try, on an independent scout, in search of a fresh mount. At a plantation in the distance he found one horse, which he would have confiscated had not a young lady pleaded so hard not to be deprived of the only one they had that he granted her request and allowed it to remain.


Walking back to the point in the road where he had tethered his exhausted beast he found quite a number of horses tied to the


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History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry.


same fence, and, as he came nearer, discovered many men loung- ing about, one of whom was in the act of examining the contents of Alexander's saddlebags. When the fellow had desisted, at Alexander's command, the latter inquired of the stranger if he "had seen the lot of rebels we captured in Jamestown." "You're one of Wheeler's men, are you not?" retorted the man, and that was the first intimation Alexander had that he stood in the midst of rebels. Though they wore a uniform of varied colors, there was sufficient blue to induce such a mistake; while, on the other hand, his own was so stained and disfigured by soil and grease as to make it sufficiently unrecognizable to mislead the foe. The men were cooking and eating, with their arms and accouterments lying along the fence.


Alexander quietly backed out of their midst. As he did so he leveled his carbine and coolly informed them that they were prisoners of war, and that the first man who dared to move would be instantly shot in his tracks. Not a man stirred. Keeping them constantly covered, he reached the fence and succeeded in destroy- ing their arms by bending the barrels of the guns between the fence rails. Thus far he controlled his captives without trouble.


They had carelessly placed their weapons where they could not now reach them without taking a shot from their captor, and no one cared to lead in such a hazardous venture. Had they been able to take concerted action and move suddenly in a body they could have overpowered their guard in an instant, for there were thirteen Confederate soldiers and ten colored men in the party. But a loaded gun is an argument the power of which cannot be understood by those who have never had the experience; and, incredible as it may seem, Alexander successfully controlled his twenty-three prisoners-possibly by a species of hypnotism built upon a foundation of bluff.


Not permitting them to saddle, he compelled them to mount bareback, and driving them all before him he proceeded toward Jamestown. By the mighty power of constant reference to the deadly effect of his loaded weapons he dominated his mob of prisoners for over a mile, when he was met by George Stone, of our company, who helped him take them in. But it was well for Alexander and Stone that they had but a short distance further to go to reach their command, for the prisoners, gradually awaken-


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A Recruit who had Great Nerve.


ing to the fact that they had been captured by one man, and realiz- ing the discredit this would reflect upon them, grew more and more ugly in mood and difficult to manage. Swearing and cursing at themselves and each other, they would soon have worked them- selves up to the pitch of braving all hazards in a break for liberty or revenge. One of them, after abusing the rest for their stupidity, growled : "I told you this was a Yank when he came down the road, but you wouldn't believe me."


I think no one will deny that this performance was a plucky one. Alexander's name was read out on dress parade for his brave deed, and doubtless it was mentioned in the official reports of the day. But that was all, and even to the present time few know of the feat, for this man's modesty was even greater than his bravery.


Our capture of Jamestown and all it held was successful in every way, and reflects great credit upon the men who at this period of the war were satisfied with nothing short of absolute success. When we rejoined Captain Kramer our little advance guard of twelve men took in its train thirty-five prisoners and sixty horses and mules, besides having captured and destroyed two cars loaded with cotton, 1000 stands of arms, fifty barrels of flour, five bales of cotton cloth, twelve sacks of salt and several barrels of molasses-all belonging to the Southern Confederacy.


Lieut. Ed. Smith, of our company, with five men captured and destroyed a factory where arms were made for the rebel govern- ment, and among the property he burned were 800 completed guns and 2500 partially completed, as well as all the machinery for pro- ducing them.


When the smallness of our force is considered and it is remem- bered that the Confederates were in larger numbers all around us, with General Beauregard in still greater force at Greensboro, but five miles distant, I think our men cannot be indicted of ego- tism in regarding this as a very creditable affair.


COMPANY A AT SHERRILL'S FORD, 1865.


WM. L. BRATTON, COMPANY A, NEW YORK.


O UR company was camped at what is called Sherrill's Ford, on the Yadkin River, in North Carolina, some ten or twelve miles from Lincolnton. My horse had done such heavy service that his back was very sore, and it had every appearance of a fistula. In the meantime I had been fortunate enough to capture two horses, one of which I wanted to use, but the neces- sities of one of our Sergeants and another soldier were deemed much greater by Captain Colton, and he ordered that they should get the horses, although I, of course, felt like any soldier would- tliat I was entitled to first choice. Being at that time very head- strong I was determined to get a new horse, if possible, and started out on a raid "all by myself, alone."


Getting past the pickets, I made a tramp of about two miles down the river, and came across a handsome mansion for that section of the country, occupied by a wealthy family. When 1 examined their stable I found what appeared to be a very large Shetland pony. The house servants and slaves gathered around the overseer and the ladies of the family. In the group was a fine, intelligent young boy, apparently twelve or thirteen years of age, who owned the pony. In looking around the place one of the negroes told me that if I "went down to Factoryville there were a few good horses there, but most likely they were hidden in the woods." He told me that "Factoryville was some two miles distant down the river, and that they were making cloth down there for the rebel soldiers." I obliged the boy to mount his pony, and told the ladies that "the boy was safe with me-they need have no fear whatever ; that I was only going to take him to camp, and he would be allowed to return immediately." When we gained the road I told the boy to "guide me to Factoryville and to be smart about it."


In a short time we reached the edge of a small village, and there


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Company A at Sherrill's Ford, 1865.


about 100 yards in front of us was a fine bay horse hitched to a large swinging door, which the boy told me was "the entrance to a blacksmith shop." I rode up to this blacksmith shop on a free gallop, and found it large enough for me to enter. I had my pistol drawn, and when I entered I saw a fine-looking Confederate Sergeant, and a blacksmith in the regular "smithy" clothes. The Sergeant realized there was no use to do anything but obey my command to surrender. The blacksmith was a middle-aged, well- built man ; but being, I supposed, a non-combatant, I hadn't sense enough to think he might attempt any harm. I asked this Con- federate Sergeant if there were any more of them, and he said there was "one who was in some house in the village," and I made him guide me to the place where he was supposed to be. I didn't dismount, but I found in the yard of the house a very fine horse, well saddled. The Confederate Sergeant was attempting to parley with me for his horse, but as I had taken the Sergeant's arms I considered I had no further use for him, and told him so.


Now having captured two horses, I had gained the object of my little raid, and ordered a well-dressed house servant of one of the crowd that had gathered around to "mount the Sergeant's horse." Several ladies made their appearance at the gate and attempted to enter and go into the house, but I had a presentiment of trouble, and told them they "must not enter." The Confederate Sergeant again attempted to argue and wanted to let the ladies go into the house. I drew my pistol on him, and it was a good thing I did so, for I was told afterward that the Confederate Colonel who was in the house had a double-barreled shotgun, loaded with buckshot, pointing at me from the upper window, but he was afraid that the shot would strike some of the ladies. I told the people "the Yanks were coming in about 10,000 strong," and ordered the boy, and the darkey who was mounted on the Sergeant's horse and leading the officer's horse, to "follow me," leaving the Confederate Sergeant with the ladies.


The Sergeant was an intelligent fellow, and must have known something of the right surroundings, for he turned around as I left and yelled that he "believed it was a d-d Yankee trick." We went out of that village on a full gallop and reached the dirt road that led through the woods toward Sherrill's Ford. When we were half way through we were startled by a shot in our


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History of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry.


rear, which we afterward learned was from the blacksmith whom I had left in his shop, and who had followed up and took a chance at us on the sly. I looked back, but could see only the heels of his horse, so we continued on a gallop through the woods until we were halted by our pickets. I reported to Captain Colton, and got a new mount, of course. When I told him what I had discovered he detailed four others, and told me to "go down to Factoryville and see if we could capture any more horses or gather in any prisoners." We also took with us a volunteer negro servant of Company B.


Having come over the road before, of course I acted as advance guard, and was very much surprised, before we had reached the village, to meet one of the finest looking Southern gentlemen I had ever seen-one of the Buffalo Bill stamp in build and looks. He was apparently unarmed and rode a good saddle mule. He looked like a fighting man, however, and I took the precaution to search him. Finding a six-barreled revolver upon him, he was turned. over as a prisoner to the colored servant who accompanied us, and whose name I believe was Joe.


When we were within about 300 yards of the village I told the boys the best thing we could do would be to make a dash right into the place, which we did, and rode some 400 or 500 yards without any opposition. Then we scattered around to see what we could find in the house where I had been a few hours previous. I gathered in Colonel Lane, of the Virginia army, who was a Colonel of artillery, and said to be one of the sons of Senator Joe Lane, of Oregon. The other son was said to be in the Union army.


I found out that they had made and were making a great deal of cloth for the Confederate army at Factoryville, and I told every- body that we were going to destroy the factory, and I wanted everyone to get pillow cases, mattresses and bags of all kinds and fill them with cotton and take them to their homes, for we would burn all the cotton in a short time, and we did not want them to suffer by it, but we would not allow any more cloth to be made there.


In a short time bags of all kinds filled with cotton were being carried by the people. I do not know how much they took, for in a few minutes someone told me that there were some horses hidden on the island in the Yadkin River. The island being right


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Company A at Sherrill's Ford, 1865.


opposite Factoryville, we forded the river, scouted over the island, but could not find any, and returned to Factoryville, doing no further damage and finding no more soldiers.


We had gone about a fourth of a mile when a mulatto, about twenty-five years of age, appeared suddenly on our left, coming through the woods. He was leading three elegant horses and rid- ing another equally as good. He was making a bee line for free- dom at the first opportunity presented, he frankly told us. Of course, we accepted the horses and brought him along with us. I met this same mulatto in 1866 driving a four-horse team for Babbitt's soap, opposite the State House in Philadelphia. He knew me at once, and left his team on the side of the street and made a demonstration of thankfulness that attracted the attention of many people and made me feel very good. He said "he had been very successful since coming North, had married and was very happy."


We returned to camp with our prisoner and horses, and again reported to Captain Colton, and as our boys who had been guard- ing Sherrill's Ford had been fired upon, the same squad was de- tailed to go to the other side of the Yadkin River and search the houses for firearms. There were several fine houses near there, but we could gain no information, and our search was only suc- cessful in securing a few squirrel rifles, which are very effective for use under certain conditions.


When we reached camp from the Factoryville raid the Colonel we had captured was very much depressed, but he was treated so nicely by our Captain, who put him on his parole, that when lie passed our camp fire, at which we were making our evening meal, he recognized several of the boys who were on the little raid, and complimented them very highly for the manner in which they had acted throughout. Of course, he deplored his loss of freedom.


CARRYING DISPATCHES ON OUR LAST RAID.


J. M. BROWN, COMPANY B, CIRCLEVILLE, PA.


I N the spring of 1865 our Regiment, the Fifteenth Pennsyl- vania Cavalry, broke camp at Wauhatchie, at the foot of Lookout Mountain, near Chattanooga, Tenn.


At this time with about twenty others I was detailed to store away cavalry equipments in a small house in Chattanooga which had been set apart for our Regiment. We remained there for two weeks, and were then ordered to follow the command, and took train for Knoxville, East Tennessee. At Knoxville we were joined by some thirty or forty of our Regiment, and were supplied with five days' rations, 120 rounds of cartridges, horses, horseshoes, nails, etc. These rations, equipments, etc., were all that we re- ceived from Uncle Sam for the next sixty-seven days.




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