Some say it was because Jackson was not there; but the battles of the Wilderness, Spotsylvania and Cold Harbor, where Grant was in command of the Northern army, demonstrated that Lee could win victories without Jackson. Perhaps what contributed most to Lee's defeat at Gettysburg was the absence of the cavalry just at a time when he needed it most. Had Stuart kept the cavalry between the two armies, and informed Lee as to the movements of the enemy, he would not have been placed in such a disadvantageous position as he was at Gettysburg. Then again, the enemy had vastly superior numbers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GEN. ROBERT E. LEE.

This picture was taken at the rear of General Lee's house on Franklin street, Richmond, in April, 1865, immediately after his return from Appomattox, and represents him in the style of uniform which he habitually wore in the army.]

Whatever may have been the cause of his defeat, Gen. Lee, with the magnanimity characteristic of him, said: "It was all my fault."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 2: The two armies, occupying opposite banks of the river near Fredericksburg, began their march for Gettysburg June the 3rd, 1863, moving northeast along the Rappahannock river, the cavalry of each army marching between. When Lee reached the Blue Ridge he crossed it at three different places, Chester Gap, Ashby's and Snickersville Gaps. The two cavalry forces came together and fought quite a severe battle, beginning at Aldie, below Middleburg, and extending to Paris, at the foot of the mountain. Directly after this battle Stuart took the main part of his cavalry, moved back as far as Salem, or Delaplane, as it is now called, moved across the country in rear of the Federal army, pa.s.sing Mana.s.sas and Centerville, then marched direct for the Potomac, which he crossed between Leesburg and Washington. Then through Maryland into Pennsylvania as far as Carlisle, and there he turned south, arriving at Gettysburg on the night after the second day of the battle, thus completely encircling the Union army. (See map).

On its march down the Virginia valley to the Potomac Lee's army took 4000 prisoners, 25 cannon, 250 wagons, 400 horses, 269 small arms and quant.i.ties of stores.]

[Footnote 3: The map only shows one point where Lee crossed into Maryland, but the army divided before reaching the Potomac, one part crossing at Williamsport, and the other at Shepherdstown, and, uniting at Hagerstown, moved on toward Chambersburg. From this point, Lee sent a portion of Ewell's division as far north as Carlisle, while another portion marched to York, then to Wrightsville, on the Susquehanna river, all returning in time to meet the Union army at Gettysburg.]

[Footnote 4: General Longstreet, in his book "From Mana.s.sas to Appomattox," says the Confederate forces that crossed the Potomac were 75,568, and fixes the total of the Union army at 100,000, in round figures. General Meade's monthly returns for June 30, shows 99,131 present for duty and equipped at Gettysburg.]

CHAPTER VII.

_From Gettysburg to the Wilderness._

"But who shall break the guards that wait Before the awful face of Fate?

The tattered standards of the South Were shrivelled at the cannon's mouth, And all her hopes were desolate."

The main army marched slowly back up the valley, crossing at the various gaps east of Winchester, and occupied a position on the south bank of the Rapidan, a branch of the Rappahannock.

The cavalry under Stuart took the east side of the Blue Ridge and marched in a parallel line with the infantry. This took me by my old home. I could stop only for a few minutes. I remember that I was upbraided for my appearance and was compared to the "Prodigal Son." But when I told them what I had pa.s.sed through, they were ready to kill the fatted calf. I had, though, no time for this, as my regiment was on the march. Besides, I knew there was no calf.

The enemy kept at a safe distance, and did not molest us. We halted at Brandy Station, where we had fought the battle of June 9th, a month before. They halted at the Rappahannock and occupied both sides of the river.

The land for miles and miles around Brandy Station was almost level and entirely denuded of fences, the soldiers having used them for firewood.

It was an ideal battlefield.

Here was the home of John Minor Botts, a distinguished Virginian, respected and protected by the Northern army for his Union sentiments, and by the South for his integrity. He had a beautiful home and a fine, large estate, a choice herd of milch cows, and I have often gone there at milking time and got my canteen filled with milk just from the cow.

The price we paid was 25 cents a quart, in Confederate money. We thought it very cheap for such good, rich milk, and all of us had a good word to say for Mr. Botts and his family, even if they were Unionists.

Gen. Stuart threw out his pickets across the fields, and just in front of us the enemy did likewise. The pickets were in full view of each other, and a long-range musket might have sent a bullet across the line at any time, but we did not molest each other. At night the lines came still closer together, and we could distinctly hear them relieving their pickets every two hours, and they doubtless could hear us doing the same.

This state of things remained for several weeks. Not a shot was fired during all that time, and so well acquainted did the pickets of each army become, that it was not an uncommon thing to see them marching across the fields to meet each other and exchange greetings, and often the Confederates traded tobacco for coffee and sugar. I took quite an interest in this bartering and trading. This got to be so common that Gen. Stuart had to issue an order forbidding it.

After a while conditions changed. Gen. Lee had sent Longstreet's corps to Tennessee to reinforce Bragg, weakening his army to the extent of 20,000 men. Probably for this reason the enemy determined to make a demonstration, and began a movement toward our front. But so considerate were they that they did not open fire on us until we had gotten beyond range of their guns. This fraternal condition perhaps never existed before between two contending armies.

As they advanced we gradually fell back, and when we had retreated about a mile, they began firing on us. The friendly sentiment was soon dissipated, we returned the fire, and began to dispute their pa.s.sage.

But as they had a much larger force we gradually released the territory, fighting as we retreated.

My part of the line carried me directly through the streets of Culpeper, and the fighting in and around the town was the heaviest that we encountered. Several of our men had their horses killed, and I saw the enemy's cavalry pick the men up as they ran in their effort to escape.

We continued to fall back until we reached the Rapidan. Here Gen. Lee was strongly entrenched, and the enemy, after remaining in our front for some days, fell back to their old position on the Rappahannock. There was one item of interest which I neglected to mention in its proper place, and that was an address which Gen. Lee issued to his soldiers after his long march back from Gettysburg. It was printed on paper, about the size of a half sheet of note paper. It began with these words: "To the Soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia:" "Soldiers, we have sinned." I cannot remember any more of the address, but those words have lingered lovingly in my memory ever since. Each soldier was handed one of these papers, and I am ashamed to say I did not keep my copy, and do not know of anyone who did.

Shortly after this demonstration of the Union army, Gen. Lee made an advance, but not directly in front. He moved his army toward the northeast, and his efforts seemed to have been to make a flank movement and get in the enemy's rear, just as had been done the year before when Jackson got in the rear of Pope at Mana.s.sas. The cavalry remained to watch the enemy's front, and prevent a move toward Richmond.

After Lee had gotten well on his march the cavalry crossed the river and began to drive in the enemy's outposts and press them back toward Culpeper, and then on through Culpeper to Brandy Station, where the enemy made a stand.

A short distance beyond the station was a slight elevation running across our front, completely hiding the movements of the enemy. As there was no elevation anywhere that we might occupy and see beyond the ridge in our front, all we could see was the large force occupying the crest of the ridge. We were afraid to charge, for fear of running into their whole army.

After a good deal of maneuvering and waiting we saw the long lines of Union cavalry coming over the ridge and moving toward us in the line of battle. Closer and closer they came, and when they got within 200 yards of us, their leader ordered a charge, and it looked as if the whole column was coming right into our ranks.

I have a vivid recollection of the scene. I noticed as they approached that quite a number of them, perhaps every third man, was reining in his horse, which meant, "I have gone as far as I mean to go." Of course, what I saw my comrades saw, and we knew at once, by this action, they were whipped; but the others came on, dashing right into our ranks, firing as they came. The dust and smoke from the guns made it almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe, but I noticed close to me a large Union officer, riding a splendid horse, with his sabre over his head, calling his men to follow him. I had my sabre drawn, and I raised it over his head, but did not have the heart to hit him. Somehow or other, my arm would not obey me. It seemed too much like murder.

But Lieut. Armistead (an officer in my company) was not so chicken-hearted, but spurred his horse, "Long Tom," up until his pistol almost touched the officer, and shot him in the side. I saw him fall from his horse, and afterward attempt to get up. Then I lost sight of him. It was said to be Gen. Baker of the Union army, who was in command of the forces making the attack. We took some prisoners, others in the confusion, amid the dust and smoke, fled and escaped within their own lines. Then there was a halt for an hour or more.

Several fresh regiments of our cavalry came up and took positions, ready for attack or defence, whichever it might be.

What troubled our command was to know what was beyond that ridge. We were afraid to move forward, for fear of running into ambush.

Presently we saw a magnificent sight. The colonel of the Fourth Virginia Regiment, mounted on a beautiful black horse, moved forward, calling upon his regiment to follow him. It was Colonel, afterward General, Rosser.

As the regiment moved toward the enemy's lines, at a gallop, the cry went up and down the ranks, "Look at Rosser, look at Rosser." Everybody expected to see him tumble from his horse, shot to death. But he went forward, leading his men, and when the enemy discovered that we were coming in earnest, they turned on their heels and fled. Other regiments followed in rapid succession, and when we had gotten on top of the ridge we found that the enemy was disappearing in the distance as fast as their flying horses could carry them. We afterward learned that their stand at Brandy Station was only intended to check our forces until theirs could get across the Rappahannock river, about three miles distant.

After this fracas was over we began to look about us to see whether any of us showed marks of the strife. I found a bullet hole through the strap that held my sabre to my belt, and as the strap laid close to my side, it was allowed to pa.s.s as a "close shave." But the greatest danger I was in, I think, was from the sabre of Gen. Baker. A right cut from that strong arm of his could have severed my head.

There was one of our command who was shot in the neck, and an artery cut. The blood spurted out like water from a spigot. He dismounted and stood by his horse until, weakened by the loss of blood, he fell to the ground. He realized, as everyone else did, that he was beyond human aid.

As Solomon put it in Ecclesiastes, "The golden bowl had been broken."

But to go back. Early in the day, when we were driving the enemy from our front, the cavalry dismounted and fought on foot. This was often done, as the men can do better execution when on the ground, and, besides, they are better protected from the fire of the enemy. On foot, you have to protect you the trees and the rocks and the fences, every little hillock; in fact, anything else that would stop a bullet, but on horseback you are a splendid target for the sharpshooter. Hence, the cavalry on some occasions preferred to be on foot. But when there was any retreating to do, like Richard III, they wanted a horse.

On this particular occasion I was among those chosen to lead the horses.

In fact, it always fell to the fourth man. He sat on his horse, while the other three men dismounted and went to the front. These were called the led horses, and, of course, they followed in the rear, keeping as much out of danger as possible.

As we moved along through the fields we pa.s.sed a small dwelling; I halted in front of the door and asked the good lady of the house for something to eat. She came out, trembling from head to foot, with two other ladies, who I presume were her daughters, and gave me some bread.

Seeing the long string of led horses, she asked in the most distressed tone if all the men belonging to those horses had been killed. I explained the meaning of the horses being led, and a.s.sured her they were in no danger, as the enemy was retreating rapidly in our front, and all danger had pa.s.sed.

Just an hour before this the conditions were reversed. I was on foot, and on the firing line, and another was leading my horse.

We had taken shelter behind a low-railed fence, against which the Yankees, who had just left it, had thrown the earth as a protection. We were all lying down close to the ground and firing over the top of this obstruction, when a sh.e.l.l came hissing across the field, striking the breastwork a short distance from where I lay, scattering the rails and dirt in every direction. I remarked that as lightning never struck twice in the same place, that was the safest spot to get, and I began to crawl toward it. I had hardly moved a yard when another sh.e.l.l struck in this very same spot, verifying the old adage, that "there are exceptions to all rules."

We were ordered to move forward from this position across the open field, which we did, the bullets buzzing past our ears like so many bees. We went a few hundred yards and then lay down flat on the ground in the gra.s.s, and continued firing at the puffs of smoke in our front, as that was all we could see. The enemy was lying as flat to the ground as we were. A great deal of this kind of fighting is done in this way.

It doesn't rise to the dignity of a battle, but is called skirmishing.

One poor fellow lying next to me was struck by a bullet with a dull thud, that caused him to cry out in pain, and as we moved forward I saw him writhing in agony. I presume he was not mortally wounded, as mortal wounds do not cause much or any pain.

In the meantime, our enemy crept away from our front, and mounting their horses, galloped off. We followed in hot pursuit.