USA > Pennsylvania > Martial deeds of Pennsylvania, Vol. 2 > Part 49
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Having said this, he turned away; but noticing that she was not disposed to be satisfied with this, he gave her a searching glance, as she said :
" I believe it is the order of the President that this case be ex- amined, and I shall esteem it a great favor, if it can be done speedily, as my husband's life may depend on my prompt return."
Judging by the earnestness of her demeanor, and the apparent agony of her heart, that the case was really one of wrong and in- justice, he directed her to take the paper to General Chipman, to have the military record of Colonel Rickards investigated. This was politely accorded by General Chipman, who directed her to take the report which he had made out to Judge Advocate Holt, whose indorsement was necessary before action could be had. After reading General Chipman's memorandum, the Judge Advo- cate made the following indorsement thereon :
" This I consider a case of hardship. This officer has a mili- tary record any man might envy ; " at the same time observing to Mrs. Rickards, " Madam, this is only another instance of a count- try's ingratitude, and I am sure, if you will now take this to the President, he will revoke the order of dismissal, and you can start for home with good news for your husband."
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.'On visiting Mr. Lincoln he promptly revoked the hateful order; at the same time inquiring particularly about the wound of Col- onel Rickards, and in a laughing, pleasant way said, " Well, never mind. We will heal it all soon by making him a General." It would have been but an act of justice which Colonel Rickards richly merited, and a graceful acknowledgment of the wrong which had been done him. But in the absorbing duties of main- taining the great contest, now at its height, the wounded soldier was forgotten, and others were ever ready to push forward and trouble the waters before him.
IIILIP R. PALM, M. D., Surgeon of the One Hundred and Tenth, and afterwards of the One Hundred and Thirty- seventh regiment, and member of the operating board in the battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, gives some interest- ing incidents of those engagements. On the 30th of April, 1863, he says, our division hospital was located near the Fitz Hugh House. Here I dressed the wounds of six or seven of the enemy. I could hardly get a word from them, which seemed strange. Gradually, however, they all became quite communicative. One of the "Louisiana Tigers," by the name of Stuart, was shot through the head, the ball, a large one, entering the temple on one side and making its exit through the other, passing through the cerebrum. Although he was blind, he conversed rationally. One day I mentioned the name of Stuart. He said that was not his name. On one occasion he got up and walked out of the hospital. Inflammation succeeded and he died at the end of a week.
To illustrate the delusion under which many of the enemy acted, I will relate the case of a private from Atlanta, Georgia. IIe was one of the party alluded to. After dressing his wounds, which were mortal, he became quite familiar. Ile informed me that he was a lawyer. He said the rebels had been told that if they were taken prisoners they would be subjected to cruel and inhuman treatment. I asked him if they believed such stories. He replied that they did. "Well," said I, " how do you find it ?" IIe smiled and said, "Oh ! I could not be treated better by my friends ; no, not so well, because we have not things as you have them." He died soon after.
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At the battle of Fredericksburg I witnessed a novel conflict between three stallions. A large number of horses of officers were parked near the hospitals. Among them was a little black stallion belonging to one of the surgeons. At the time when the cannonading was most furious, and the air was filled with shrick- ing shells and sulphurous smoke, the same fiery spirit that im- pelled the men on to conflict seemed to infect the horses. With heads erect and distended nostrils they snuffed the air of battle. The little black soon broke loose, and rushing in among others made an attack on two other stallions. These, too, broke loose, and the three made a rush for each other. With eyes glaring, they seized cach other by the neck, fairly screaming with rage, rearing and plunging with their steel-shod feet, until the three lay prostrate, without for a moment letting go their hold. In that position they kept up the fight for a considerable time, and were finally separated with the greatest difficulty. The little black was led back to his place with head and tail erect as if tri- umphant. He again attempted to break away, but was unable to accomplish his object. While the combat lasted it drew a good house.
HE following illustrates the power of the human system to re- sist, and recuperate from injury. Major John Fritz, of the Ninety-third Pennsylvania regiment, received a wound through the right thigh from a Minie ball in the early part of the day, at Fair Oaks, May 31st, 1862. Towards evening he was hit in the left thigh, causing a compound fracture of the bone, the result of which was the stiffening of the knee-joint and the shortening of the limb two inches. On the 5th of May, 1864, having measura- bly recovered and returned to the field, he received a scalp-wound from a musket ball at the battle of the Wilderness. On the 9th of May following, at Laurel Hill, he got a flesh-wound from a rifle ball in the left arm. Three days later, at Spottsylvania Court House, a Minié ball struck him in the left cheek below the eye, fracturing the upper jaw, resulting in the loss of the teeth, the injury of sight and hearing, and a troublesome open wound. On the 25th of March, 1865, he received a Minie ball through the right arm, fracturing the large bone, in consequence of which
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the wrist and fingers were stiffened, and the nerves permanently paralyzed. Notwithstanding he was thus, as it were, shot to pieces, he survived all his injuries and served as postmaster of the city of Reading for several years. He died in 1873
HE intelligence and sensibility displayed by dumb brutes has excited the wonder of, and challenged a solution from the keenest investigators. The case of one of the canine race widely known, and well authenticated, is given below. The account was prepared for the author's use under the direction of Brevet Major-General Richard Coulter, with whose regiment, the Elev- enth Pennsylvania, the events recorded occurred.
SALLIE. "She was a gash an' faithful tyke As ever lap a sheugh or dyke ; Her honest sonsie pleasant face, Aye gat her friends in ilka place."
. In the month of May, 1861, the Eleventh regiment Pennsylva- nia volunteers, being enlisted for the term of three months, and commanded by Colonel Phaon Jarrett, together with the Ninth regiment, occupied the Fair Grounds near West Chester. The camp was an exceedingly pleasant one, the quarters comfortable, and the rations plenty and good. War then, at the North, was but the fancy of poesy and the dream of fiction; its sorrows and its miseries were to come, and soldiers and camps were but novel- ties and shows. The citizens at the pleasant old town welcomed the volunteers, although the roll of the drums and the tread of the march broke upon the wonted quiet of the Sabbath-day; and during their stay entertained them as holiday visitors, treating them with a hospitality and kindness which in after times called up gentle memories and grateful emotions. The ladies of the town and vicinity, beautiful and accomplished, daily visited the camp, talked with them, prepared a banquet for them, and by their smiles, presence, and delicate sympathy, gave to Camp Wayne more the semblance of a Maytime picnic or a pleasure excursion, than what it was intended to be, a school of instruction, drill, and discipline.
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One bright morning a civilian, carrying on his arm a small
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market-basket, came to Captain Terry's quarters, Company I, and stated that he had brought him the pup he had promised him, producing from the basket a little puffy, pug-nosed, black- muzzled canine, scarce four weeks old, and barely able to toddle upon its short and clumsy legs. The pup was taken into quar- ters, a nest provided for it under the Captain's bunk, fed, cared for, and duly christened SALLIE. She soon became accustomed to her new friends, and thrived rapidly. Milk and soft bread were to be had in plenty, and there was nothing for her to do but eat and sleep, snugly rolled up in her bed or lolling lazily on the blankets. No shadow of future trouble or hardship cast a gloom over her spirits, nor darkened the sunshine of her happy infancy. Such was our heroine's introduction to a life which proved an eventful one, changing from quiet, ease, and plenty, to hardship, weary travels, bloody scenes, excitement and suffering-a life, with its surroundings, such as few men have lived, and such as no other of her race ever lived before.
Whilst the regiment lay in its different camps, she stayed at the Captain's quarters, at the marque, or about the company street, was fed, petted, and played with, soon becoming a general favorite, and when the term of three months expired she had grown to respectable size and was able to take care of herself. When this regiment was reorganized for three years' service, Sal- lie returned with Company I, and again took her place in the field. The winter of 1862 was passed in doing provost-guard duty in the city of Annapolis, Maryland, drilling, fatigue duty at the Naval Academy, and in guarding the Annapolis Branch Rail- road. Sallie took part in all these various duties, having become a regimental institution, and formed new acquaintances and made new friends throughout the entire company, always evidencing some particular intimacy, as her fancy or whim suggested, which would be continued for weeks.
She knew the roll of the drum at reveille, was out of quarters among the first, and regularly attended the morning roll-call. At the squad or company drills she patiently followed the particular soldier she had selected, until it was over. When the regiment formed for battalion-drill, she sought out the Colonel's horse, who soon began to know and recognize her, and barking and leaping
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led the way with him to the drill-ground, remaining until the regiment was dismissed. At dress-parade she sought the Color Sergeant, and after the regiment was formed, lay down in front of the colors, watching the "beat off," and not moving from her position until the parade was over. These two positions, to lead off with the Colonel's horse when the regiment moved, and to front the line at dress-parade, thus chosen by her at Annapolis, were sure to be taken, and the habit continued until the day she led the column from the camp at Hatcher's Run.
The regiment left Annapolis on the 10th of April, 1862, for Washington, going thence to Manassas Junction, to Falmouth and Aquia Creek, and back again by way of Alexandria to Man- assas and Thoroughfare Gap, Front Royal, and the Shenandoah ; then to Warrenton and Waterloo, and down to the Rapidan. The battle of Cedar Mountain was fought; Pope's retreat, Rappahan- nock, and Bull Run rapidly succeeded. In all these Sallie was a participant, faithfully following in the long and hurried marches, by night and by day, under fire for the first time at Cedar Moun- tain, sticking close by the colors at Bull Run, and falling back with them to Centreville and Chantilly. In the disorganization subsequent, through the toilsome march to South Mountain, through cities and towns, she managed to thread her way, and at Antietam went out into the corn-field withi one of the skirmishers who vainly endeavored to drive her back, fearing she would be killed. A ball did, indeed, strike her here on the side, but for- tunately only left its mark through her hair.
At Fredericksburg, on the 13th of December, Sallie was again with the regiment in the thick of the fight, crossed the river in her accustomed place, and went on regardless of the heavy firing. During the afternoon Colonel Coulter was wounded and obliged to leave the field. The regiment had been exposed to a terrible fire, had suffered severely, its ranks thinned and broken, and Sal- lie, for the first time in her life, became demoralized. Missing the accustomed faces and forms, she sought safety in a flank movement to the rear, and for the Pontoon. She was seen to approach it at a rapid rate, and "Old Daddy Johnson," detailed in the hospital department, to whom she was much attached, and
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whom she frequently followed, whistled for her; but she only gave one look of recognition, hurried on, and,
" With drooping tail and humbled crest,"
passed across the bridge and sought the temporary hospital on the other side to which the wounded were conveyed, anticipating by a few hours a similar movement by the entire army.
On the expedition to Mine Run, Burnside's advance, again in front of Fredericksburg, at Chancellorsville, and all the marches, movements and operations of the regiment, the faithful animal steadily shared the toil, and privation, and danger, escaping an- hurt, remaining true to her friends in all changings of camps and amidst the confusion and intricacies of a vast army-through woods and forests, across rivers and swamps, on march or counter- march, in advance or retreat, a very embodiment of devotion, courage, patience, and endurance. Bullets had no terrors for her, and she never straggled nor deserted. Hunger and thirst, heat and cold, were disregarded, and hardship and exposure utterly unheeded.
At Gettysburg, having kept with the regiment the whole of the long and rapid march from the front of Fredericksburg, Sallie went into the first day's fight; but during the repulse and falling back of our line through the town, became separated from it, and, being unable or unwilling to pass the rebel lines, returned to the crest of the hill, where the regiment had been engaged, and, seeking out the dead and wounded, remained with them, licking their wounds, or patiently watching by their lifeless bodies. Captain Cook, of the Twelfth Massachusetts, with the Provost Guard, on the morning of the 4th, while in search of strag- glers and prisoners, found her and took her back with him to the brigade and her own regiment. During this faithful vigil of three days and nights, she must have been without food, and appeared quite lean and emaciated from her long fasting. Why she was not either captured, or wantonly killed by the straggling rebel soldiers, seems strange, and can only be accounted for by the fact that she knew a rebel uniform from our own, and from her antipathy to them would give the wearers as wide a berth as possible.
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Following the regiment closely in the battles through the Wilderness, she was, on the 8th of May, struck in the neck by a Minié ball. The wound was examined by one of the field sur- geons, bandaged, and she was sent back with some of the wounded to the hospital. Here her wound was carefully re-ex- amined by Dr. Chase, the surgeon in charge, and pronounced not dangerous ; but the ball could not be extracted. She stayed about the hospital a while, but soon. returned to the field to the regi- ment, and about her first performance on her return was to tear the seat out of the breeches of a conscript from another regiment, who being scared at the firing, had broken ranks, and was re- treating through the line of the Eleventh.
Sallie carried this ball for several months, it becoming enclosed in a cyst in the fleshy part of her neck, the size of a hen's egg, where it could be plainly felt. Afterwards the neck began to fester; and finally the unpleasant appendage dropped out and the wound healed, leaving a well-defined scar.
During the operations on the Weldon Road, the Hickford raid, and siege of Petersburg, she travelled along, or stayed with the men in the trenches or at the forts, or on the picket line, always at her old place at the head of the column when it moved, an- nouncing the departure by barking and jumping at the horse of the officer in command until the line fairly started, when she quietly trotted along, sometimes at the horses' heels, sometimes in the rear, or winding through the legs of the men in the middle of the column.
Sallie's career, at length, was brought to an end, and after a life
- of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field ; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
she was killed on the 6th of February, 1865, at Hatcher's Run, Virginia.
The Adjutant of the regiment, at the close of his official report of the battle, says: "Sallie was killed when the regiment was making its first advance upon the enemy. She was in line with the file-closers when shot. We buried her under the enemy's fire."
One of the men, in a letter dated " Camp near Hatcher's Run, Virginia, February 11th, 1865," writes: " Poor Sallie fell in the
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front line in the fight at the Run-a bullet pierced her brain. She was buried where she fell, by some of the boys, even whilst under a murderous fire, so much had they become attached to the poor brute, who so long had shared with them the toilsome march and the perils of battle. It would, indeed, be a pleasant reverie if one could reconcile to himself the poor Indian's theory of the happy hunting-grounds, where his faithful dog would bear him company."
Sallie was a brindle, bull-terrier, of a fine breed, and showed marks of blood. She was of undoubted courage, generally good- tempered, always so towards any one in the regiment; but had an extreme dislike to civilians, women, and strange darkies, whom she would make battle with anywhere in the camps. She was cleanly in her habits, and strictly honest, never touching the rations of men unless given to her. She would lie down by haversacks full of meat, or stand by while fresh beef was being issued and never offer to touch it. She seemed to know that she would get a share, for the men never let her suffer if they had anything themselves, and she patiently waited until it was given her. The men grew very fond of her, and so far from any of them ever striking or kicking her, they immediately resented or punished any attempt of the kind. She was of medium size, squarely but handsomely built, her coat soft and silky, chest broad and deep, her head and ears small, and her eyes a bright hazel, full of fire and intelligence. She was active, quick, and had remarkable powers of endurance. Her knowledge of the individual members of the regiment was truly wonderful, and one was at a loss to know how she acquired it; a whole corps might pass her, but she could make no mistake about her own regiment, and never followed any other. She could distinguish and recog- nize her own people under all circumstances, whether in camp or on the march, and even when at home on furlough. She knew the teamsters belonging to the regiment, although they were necessarily much absent from it, and when, about the time of crossing the James river, she missed the regiment, she hunted up the wagon belonging to the head-quarters, remained with it, and came into camp the first time it was ordered up seeming highly delighted at getting back again.
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The night preceding the movement to Hatcher's Run, where she was killed, Sallie quartered under the tent occupied by a ser- geant and three men of Company D, and at intervals awoke them with a prolonged and mournful cry. They endeavored to drive her away, but she persistently returned, repeating her moaning, as if predicting the sad fate of the morrow. The sergeant and one of the men were killed by her side upon the field, and each of the other two was severely wounded.
In the long after years, when the gray-haired veteran of the war for the Union repeats the legend of his earlier days, he will tell his listening grandchildren the story of Sallie.
OBERT MONTGOMERY, a Lieutenant in the One Hundred and Sixteenth regiment, was mortally wounded while in com- mand of his company, and leading it in the celebrated charge on Marye's Heights, in the battle of Fredericksburg. He was shot in the groin while crossing the bridge in the rear of the town, and fell into the canal. He succeeded in reaching the shore, and was carried to the hospital, where he expired a few days after. He was a Southern man, a native of Lynchburg, Virginia, and at the breaking out of the Rebellion owned numerous slaves. But his love for the Union was greater than his desire for wealth, and abandoning everything, he followed the fortunes of the national army until he gave his life a sacrifice.
HE REV. ROBERT AUDLEY BROWNE, D. D., a chaplain without 2 fear and without reproach, of the One Hundredth (Round- head) regiment, since State Senator, and President of Westmins- ter College, in the following narrative furnishes many interesting particulars of the battle of Chantilly, and reminiscenses of the fall of Stevens and Kearny, which can never fail to interest the American people, deeply reverencing, as they do, the names of those two heroic Generals.
The night that closed the battle of Bull Run (August 30th, 1862) saw Pope's army defeated, but formidably drawn up on the strong heights at Centreville, with the roads well guarded, and Reno's corps, the Ninth, picketing at the crossings of Bull Run. Pollard's account of the frantic passage of this stream, by
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the Union troops, I judge, from my own observation, to be a pure fiction.
The next day was the Sabbath, when church-bells were ringing and peaceful congregations assembling all over the country. It opened with a dreary rain on the army around Centreville. The sharp battle at Chantilly followed close, which has for some cause been overlooked and its history left .unwritten. Its relations to the campaign were of great importance, inasmuch as it was a vic- tory to the National arms, gained by much gallantry and blood- shed. It was Lee's plan to again force Pope to battle while still remote from his base of supplies, and crush his army, or at least cut his communications with Washington and capture his trains. To bring this about he attempted a repetition of Thursday's manœuvre, which had brought on the battle of Bull Run. He accordingly ordered Stonewall Jackson to make a left flank move- ment around Pope's forces. This was done by crossing Bull Run at Sudly Springs Ford and advancing upon our line of communi- cation at Fairfax Court House by the Little River Turnpike. But it was Monday evening before Jackson neared his objective point, when he was brought to bay, and forced to fight the battle in which Reno's and Kearny's troops were left in possession of the field.
On Monday afternoon Stevens' division of Reno's corps lay on the heights of Centreville, while the white covered wagons-an immense train-formed and moved, hour after hour, along the turnpike leading to Washington. Even then Jackson was ad- vancing by the Little River Pike, which, after passing through Chantilly and Germantown, leads into the Washington Pike at Fairfax Court House, where, if not intercepted, he would have been among our trains in a few hours. Of this, however, Pope was advised, and as a precaution his various corps were well posted at points between Centreville and Fairfax, while it was assigned to Reno, supported by Kearny, to lead the advance upon the approaching column of Jackson.
While the wagon train was thus moving along, on the after- noon of Monday, suddenly the order came to Stevens' division, lying on the heights of Centreville, to fall in. We marched on the same road with the trains a half mile or more, and then
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northward, by an obscure way, and halted. Advancing again, a fence is laid low, and we pass through a meadow, an orchard, and a narrow strip of wood, when, suddenly, as we reach its farther side-whiz-crack-the bullets whistle past us, and cut the twigs and leaves over our heads ! We have struck Jackson's line of march, and he receives us in line of battle! Then comes the order to form, which is done under a rapid fire. The crash of the musketry is deafening. . But a sound more terrible than the noise of battle bursts upon us. It is the voice of the storm ! Beneath the crash of Heaven's artillery and the descending tor- rents, the battle is fought. The line of Stevens is formed under a withering fire and the no less confusing uproar of the thunder- storm, and under his immediate orders makes a charge.
The movement was so rapid that the mounted officers had barely time to dismount, tie their horses, and repeat the proper commands. General Stevens was near me and dismounted. I did the same, and after tying my horse took my place in the line. It was less than five minutes afterwards that the General hailed me from the right to say that his son, Captain Hazzard Stevens, his Adjutant-General, was wounded, and wished me to conduct him to the surgeon, which I did. He turned to press on with his gallant division, his face to the foe. Knowing the desperation of the hour, and the character of the leader he was encountering, he threw himself unreservedly in the face of the battle. Seizing the colors of the Seventy-ninth New York State Militia, to encourage and inspire them for the torrent that was bearing upon them, he was heroically advancing at their head, when he was instantly killed by a musket ball. As his wounded son leaned on my arm, while we walked to the rear, he was loud in deprecating his father's rashmess, and said he would be killed. I returned to find that the son's prediction had been speedily verified.
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