But Gen. Lee had antic.i.p.ated that very movement, and when Grant's infantry moved forward at Spottsylvania Courthouse, he found Lee's army there confronting him. Then began the bloodiest battle of all the war, so it is said.

It was during the Battle of the Wilderness that Gen. Grant sent that famous dispatch to Washington, "I will fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." If he meant the line between his army and Lee's, he changed his mind within 24 hours. But if he meant a line stretching from Wilderness to Petersburg, he kept his word. It took him all summer to get his army south of the James river, and cost him the loss (it is said) of 100,000 soldiers.

He could have placed his army there without firing a shot by following the route taken by McClellan, but Grant well knew he must first cripple Lee's army before he could capture Richmond, and that he could afford to lose five men to Lee's one in doing it, and I presume he thought the district called the "Wilderness" a good place to begin the work.

While Grant's army was moving under the cover of night and the dense forests toward Spottsylvania Courthouse, our cavalry also moved in the same direction. And when Grant ordered his lines forward the next morning, the first to receive them was our cavalry.

The enemy's cavalry still confronted us when we began fighting. It seemed to be the same old tactics that had been played for the last two days, except that it was a little fiercer.

Among the killed that day was a handsome young colonel of one of the regiments of our brigade. His name was Collins. I think he was a Georgian.

He was always dressed as if he were going to a reception. His complexion was as fair as a woman's. His hair was light. He habitually wore a clean white collar and a bright new uniform (something unusual among soldiers in the midst of an active campaign), but "death loves a shining mark," and he was taken off.

About 10 o'clock in the morning our cavalry was withdrawn from the front, and going back to our led horses we mounted and slowly rode back toward Spottsylvania Courthouse.

The country here was different from where we had been fighting the two days previous. Much of it was open fields, and the timbered part of it was not enc.u.mbered with undergrowth.

As we slowly fell back we looked behind us and saw a gorgeous sight. It was Grant's line of battle moving forward as if on "Dress Parade," their bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and steel guns with fixed bayonets glistening in the sun, with their banners floating in the breeze. The first thought among the private soldiers was, "Has Grant stolen a march on Lee, and is Richmond doomed?" It certainly looked so at this moment, but we kept on falling back.

As we entered the woods we suddenly came upon Lee's infantry lying down in line of battle waiting the enemy's advance. As we approached them, word was pa.s.sed up and down the line not to cheer the infantry. This was the custom in the face of a battle when the cavalry, retiring from the front, gave way to the infantry.

They opened their ranks and let us pa.s.s through, and we formed in line some distance behind them. The infantry was entirely concealed from the enemy's view, and up to this time I am quite sure that Grant did not know that he was facing Lee's army at Spottsylvania Courthouse. But he was soon to be undeceived in a manner most tragic.

Lee's infantry waited until the enemy was within 100 yards, and then, rising to their feet, poured a volley into their ranks that brought many of them to the ground, and sent the others back from whence they came.

This was only the beginning of the battle.

Leaving the infantry to take care of that part of the field, the cavalry was moved a mile to the right and again dismounted, and moved forward until we came under fire of the enemy's guns. We laid down behind a rail fence and fired between the rails. A bullet struck a rail just in front of my head and knocked the dust and splinters in my face, almost blinding me for a little while. We did not remain there very long, but were soon ordered back, and as we moved across the open fields in full view of the enemy, they kept up an incessant fire, many of the shots taking effect.

We could see the Union officers on the little hills in every direction, with their field gla.s.ses to their eyes, trying to discover what was in front of them.

The cavalry retired from the field, leaving the infantry to do the rest.

How well it was done the historian has tragically told the story. It was on this field that "Hanc.o.c.k, the superb," made eight distinct attacks on Lee's center, and finally breaking his line of battle, rushed his troops by thousands into the breach, and for the moment it looked as if the Confederacy was doomed.

Gen. Lee, seeing the peril in which his army was placed, ordered forward Gordon's division (which he was holding in reserve), placed himself at the head of it, and was about to lead them into battle in order to restore his broken lines. Sh.e.l.ls were falling about Gen. Lee and his life was in peril. One of the officers rode up to him and said, "Gen.

Lee, this is no place for you; you must go to the rear." His troops refused to go forward until Gen. Lee had retired from the front. One of the soldiers came forward, and taking the reins of Lee's horse, led him back. Then Gen. Gordon led his division forward, the enemy was driven back, the line was restored, and Gen. Lee's army was saved from destruction and another year added to the life of the Confederacy.

I heard Gen. Gordon in a lecture delivered at "Music Hall," Baltimore, some years ago, describing this event, say (as he stretched out his hands horizontally), "My dead were piled that high, and three days after the battle I saw wounded men trying to pull themselves from under the ma.s.s of the dead above them. And at one point the slopes were so slippery with blood that my soldiers could not stand until the ground had been carpeted with the bodies of their fallen comrades."

A tree about six inches in diameter standing in a field was literally cut down by bullets, not a shot from a cannon having been fired on that part of the field.

The Standard Encyclopedia puts the strength of Grant's army at 150,000, but does not state how many men Lee had. Perhaps 75,000 would be a fair estimate. The same authority gives Grant's losses at the battle of the Wilderness as 18,000; Lee's at 11,000.[5]

The losses in the battle of Spottsylvania Courthouse, fought two days afterward, were as great, if not greater, than those of the Wilderness.

When the cavalry retired from the front they mounted their horses, and almost Lee's entire cavalry force, headed by their chief, Gen. J.E.B.

Stuart, started in a bee line for Richmond, without halting a moment.

Gen. Sheridan, commanding Grant's cavalry, had pa.s.sed around our right wing with his whole command, and was heading toward the Confederate Capital.

I think it was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon when we started.

Sheridan was several miles ahead of us. We marched all night. We overtook Sheridan at Hanover Junction, on the railroad leading to Richmond; not, however, until he had destroyed a large quant.i.ty of provisions stored there for Lee's army, a great loss to the Confederates at that time.

Sheridan had prepared for this expedition, and all of his men had well-filled haversacks, while ours were empty.

I cannot remember just when and where we got in front of Sheridan, but I know from Hanover Junction on we were in constant touch with his forces, and hara.s.sed them all we could.

At a place called "Yellow Tavern" several regiments of our cavalry (mine among them) were dismounted, formed across the fields, and moved forward in real line of battle style until we came upon the enemy, also dismounted. After a brisk encounter we fell back to a road that was somewhat sunken.

There we halted for the purpose of stopping the enemy's advance, for the sunken road furnished us some protection, but they did not stop. They marched on, firing as they came.

Their line was longer and thicker than ours, and it was evident that we were about to be surrounded. Some of our men mounted the fence in the rear and fled across the fields. Others stood their ground and were captured, I among them.

I was near Colonel Pate, the colonel commanding a regiment in my brigade. He was killed by a bullet striking him in the center of the forehead. Also near me was our captain, Bruce Gibson.

There was a little culvert across a ditch in the road that the farmers used in going from the road into the field. Some of our men crept under this culvert and escaped. Probably 200 of us were captured.

But the army sustained a greater loss than that, a loss second only to that of Stonewall Jackson.

Just behind our line in the field was Gen. Stuart with his staff. A bullet struck him somewhere about the stomach. He was held on his horse until it was led to a place of safety. Then he was taken from his horse, put into an ambulance and carried to Richmond. He died the next day.

Stuart was considered the greatest cavalry leader of the war on either side, and his death brought a very great loss to Gen. Lee, and also to the whole Confederacy.

The Confederacy had from the beginning attached greater importance to the cavalry arm of the service than had the North, and many had been the daring raids that Stuart made within the enemy's lines, capturing thousands of wagons laden with military stores, and many thousand prisoners. In fact, almost our entire cavalry was equipped with saddles, bridles and arms captured from the enemy; nearly all the wagons in Lee's army were captured wagons. But perhaps Providence knew that the time was near at hand when we would not need these things, so He permitted the one who had been the means of supplying our wants in this particular to retire from the field. He was buried in Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Va., and a magnificent equestrian statue marks the spot.

Many of Stuart's raids were made under the cover of darkness. He always wore a long ostrich feather in his hat, and was a splendid rider. The soldiers had a war song, the chorus of which was something like this: "We'll follow the feather of Stuart tonight."

The prisoners were taken back and put under guard. I think this was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We remained there quietly until after dark, all the time, however, the fighting was going on, but we were out of reach of danger in that respect, so we had a brief breathing spell.

After dark Sheridan's whole command began to move slowly toward Richmond, making frequent stops of a few minutes. The prisoners marched two abreast, with a line of cavalry guard on each side. We had, of course, to keep up with the cavalry.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BATTLE-SCARRED CONFEDERATE BANNER.]

Our guard was very kind to us, and allowed us to take hold of their stirrup straps, which was quite a help to us as we marched along, especially in crossing streams, one of which I remember was up to our waists. It began raining at midnight, and continued most of the next day. The night was very dark, and from the distance we had covered from the time we started, it seemed to us that we must be very near the city.

Finally we turned to the left and moved toward the James river, in a southeasterly direction from Richmond.

As we had no sleep the night before, but rode all night, and now were walking all night in the rain and mud, and without food, you may know we were in a wretched condition. Every now and then a friendly Yank would hand us a cracker from his haversack, saying, "Here, Johnnie." But they were on short rations themselves, and could not help us much in that respect.

The next day we were in constant peril from the sh.e.l.ls thrown from the Confederate batteries, that seemed to come in every direction. In fact, Sheridan was completely surrounded, except on one side, and his progress was stopped there by the Chickahominy river.

This is a slow, marshy river, crossed by two or three bridges. The chief one had been destroyed by the Confederates. Sheridan was in close quarters, and we prisoners had made up our minds that he would have to surrender his army.

We got so bold and impudent that we hailed Yankee officers as they pa.s.sed us, and said, "Hey there, Mr. Yank, I speak for that horse."

Among these officers so hailed was a red-headed major, who was in command of our guard. Prior to this, he had been very surly and exceedingly gruff and harsh. So much so, that the prisoners had whispered among themselves that if we did get him in our hands we'd make him sweat, and when it became evident not only to us, but to the enemy, that they were in danger of capture, this particular officer changed his att.i.tude toward us very perceptibly. He took our jeers and taunts without a word, and, luckily for us, about this time he was relieved of his position, and another put in his place. Perhaps he had asked for it, knowing that he wouldn't receive very kind treatment if he fell into our hands.

But, oh, the irony of Fate. On a hill fronting the river (not far from the bridge) was an old Virginia mansion. The prisoners were led to this house and ordered to tear it down and carry the timbers to the river and rebuild the bridge. What do you think of that? Of course, we had to obey, but we made loud complaints, and while we were carrying this timber and rebuilding the bridge, our enemy was protecting us, from their standpoint (as far as they could), by keeping back the Confederates, who were pouring shot and sh.e.l.l into their ranks from every direction. The bridge was repaired, Sheridan's command was soon safe on the other side, and our hopes died away.

There are two little incidents connected with my capture that I ought not to leave out, so I will go back to that event. The first one may serve a good purpose if the reader is ever placed in similar circ.u.mstances.