Chasing after Lee and Longstreet—Ruined Fences and Lonely Chimneys—I Am Impudent Enough to Win Supper from Two Good-looking Female Citizens—Marching Through the Shenandoah Valley—Winchester, Shuttlecock of the Confederacy—Northern Vengeance on the Rampage—Irishmen Make Good Rebs—First Spoils from Pennsylvania—Gold Brings Results—Crossing the Potomac—A Sulky Reception in Maryland
20th June (Saturday)—Armed with letters of introduction from the Secretary at War for Generals Lee and Longstreet, I left Richmond at 6 A.M., to join the Virginian army. I was accompanied by a sergeant of the Signal Corps, sent by my kind friend Major Norris, for the purpose of assisting me in getting on. We took the train as far as Culpepper, and arrived there at 5:30 P.M., after having changed cars at Gordonsville. Near this place I observed an enormous pile of excellent rifles rotting in the open air. These had been captured at Chancellorsville; but the Confederates have already such a superabundant stock of rifles that apparently they can afford to let them spoil. The weather was quite cool after the rain of last night. The country through which we passed had been in the enemy’s hands last year, and was evacuated by them after the battles before Richmond; but at that time it was not their custom to burn, destroy, and devastate—every thing looked green and beautiful, and did not in the least give one the idea of a hot country.
In his late daring raid, the Federal General Stoneman crossed this railroad, and destroyed a small portion of it, burned a few buildings, and penetrated to within three miles of Richmond; but he and his men were in such a hurry that they had not time to do much serious harm.1
Culpepper was, until five days ago, the headquarters of Generals Lee and Longstreet; but since Ewell’s recapture of Winchester, the whole army had advanced with rapidity, and it was my object to catch it up as quickly as possible. On arriving at Culpepper, my sergeant handed me over to another myrmidon of Major Norris, with orders from that officer to supply me with a horse, and take me himself to join Mr. Lawley, who had passed through for the same purpose as myself three days before.
Sergeant Norris, my new chaperon, is cousin to Major Norris, and is a capital fellow. Before the war he was a gentleman of good means in Maryland, and was accustomed to a life of luxury. He now lives the life of a private soldier with perfect contentment, and is utterly indifferent to civilization and comfort. Although he was unwell when I arrived, and it was pouring with rain, he proposed that we should start at once—6 P.M. I agreed, and we did so. Our horses both had sore backs, were both unfed, except on grass, and mine was deficient of a shoe. They nevertheless traveled well, and we reached a hamlet called Woodville, fifteen miles distant, at 9:30. We had great difficulty in procuring shelter; but at length we overcame the inhospitality of a native, who gave us a feed of corn for our horses, and a blanket on the floor for ourselves.
21st June (Sunday)—We got the horse shod with some delay, and after refreshing the animals with corn and ourselves with bacon, we effected a start at 8:15 A.M. We experienced considerable difficulty in carrying my small saddlebags and knapsack, on account of the state of our horses’ backs. Mine was not very bad, but that of Norris was in a horrid state. We had not traveled more than a few miles when the latter animal cast a shoe, which took us an hour to replace at a village called Sperryville.
The country is really magnificent, but as it has supported two large armies for two years, it is now completely cleaned out. It is almost uncultivated, and no animals are grazing where there used to be hundreds. All fences have been destroyed, and numberless farms burnt, the chimneys alone left standing. It is difficult to depict and impossible to exaggerate the sufferings which this part of Virginia has undergone. But the ravages of war have not been able to destroy the beauties of nature—the verdure is charming, the trees magnificent, the country undulating, and the Blue Ridge mountains form the background.
Being Sunday, we met about thirty Negroes going to church, wonderfully smartly dressed, some (both male and female) riding on horseback, and others in wagons; but Mr. Norris informs me that two years ago we should have numbered them by hundreds. We soon began to catch up the sick and broken-down men of the army, but not in great numbers. Most of them were well shod, though I saw two without shoes.
After crossing a gap in the Blue Ridge range, we reached Front Royal at 5 P.M., and we were now in the well-known Shenandoah Valley—the scene of Jackson’s celebrated campaigns. Front Royal is a pretty little place, and was the theater of one of the earliest fights in the war, which was commenced by a Maryland regiment of Confederates, who, as Mr. Norris observed, “jumped on to” a Federal regiment from the same state, and “whipped it badly.” Since that time the village has changed hands continually, and was visited by the Federals only a few days previous to Ewell’s rapid advance ten days ago.
After immense trouble we procured a feed of corn for the horses, and to Mr. Norris’s astonishment, I was impudent enough to get food for ourselves by appealing to the kind feelings of two good-looking female citizens of Front Royal, who, during our supper, entertained us by stories of the manner they annoyed the Northern soldiers by disagreeable allusions to “Stonewall” Jackson.
We started again at 6:30, and crossed two branches of the Shenandoah River, a broad and rapid stream. Both the railway and carriage bridges having been destroyed, we had to ford it, and as the water was deep, we were only just able to accomplish the passage. The soldiers, of whom there were a number with us, took off their trousers, and held their rifles and ammunition above their heads. Soon afterwards our horses became very leg-weary; for although the weather had been cool, the roads were muddy and hard upon them.
At 8:30 we came up with Pender’s division encamped on the sides of hills, illuminated with innumerable campfires, which looked very picturesque. After passing through about two miles of bivouacs, we begged for shelter in the hayloft of a Mr. Mason. We turned our horses into a field, and found our hayloft most luxurious after forty-six miles’ ride at a foot’s pace.
“Stonewall” Jackson is considered a regular demigod in this country.
22d June (Monday)—We started without food or corn at 6:30 A.M., and soon became entangled with Pender’s division on its line of march, which delayed us a good deal. My poor brute of a horse also took this opportunity of throwing two more shoes, which we found it impossible to replace, all the blacksmiths’ shops having been pressed by the troops.
The soldiers of this division are a remarkably fine body of men, and look quite seasoned and ready for any work. Their clothing is serviceable, so also are their boots; but there is the usual utter absence of uniformity as to color and shape of their garments and hats: gray of all shades, and brown clothing, with felt hats, predominate. The Confederate troops are now entirely armed with excellent rifles, mostly Enfields. When they first turned out they were in the habit of wearing numerous revolvers and bowie knives. General Lee is said to have mildly remarked: “Gentlemen, I think you will find an Enfield rifle, a bayonet, and sixty rounds of ammunition, as much as you can conveniently carry in the way of arms.” They laughed, and thought they knew better; but the six-shooters and bowie knives gradually disappeared; and now none are to be seen among the infantry.
The artillery horses are in poor condition, and only get 3 lbs. of corn* a day. The artillery is of all kinds—Parrots, Napoleons, rifled and smooth bores, all shapes and sizes. Most of them bear the letters U.S., showing that they have changed masters.
The colors of the regiments differ from the blue battle flags I saw with Bragg’s army. They are generally red, with a blue St. Andrew’s cross showing the stars. This pattern is said to have been invented by General Joseph Johnston, as not so liable to be mistaken for the Yankee flag. The new Confederate flag has evidently been adopted from this battle flag, as it is called. Most of the colors in this division bear the names Manassas, Fredericksburg, Seven Pines, Harpers Ferry, Chancellorsville, &c.2
I saw no stragglers during the time I was with Pender’s division; but although the Virginian army certainly does get over a deal of ground, yet they move at a slow, dragging pace, and are evidently not good marchers naturally. As Mr. Norris observed to me, “Before this war we were a lazy set of devils; our Negroes worked for us, and none of us ever dreamt of walking, though we all rode a great deal.”
We reached Berryville (eleven miles) at 9 A.M. The headquarters of General Lee were a few hundred yards beyond this place. Just before getting there, I saw a general officer of handsome appearance, who must, I knew from description, be the Commander in Chief; but as he was evidently engaged I did not join him, although I gave my letter of introduction to one of his staff.
Shortly afterwards, I presented myself to Mr. Lawley, with whom I became immediately great friends.** He introduced me to General Chilton, the Adjutant General of the army, to Colonel Cole, the Quartermaster General, to Major Taylor, Captain Venables, and other officers of General Lee’s staff. He suggested, as the headquarters were so busy and crowded, that he and I should ride to Winchester at once, and afterwards ask for hospitality from the less busy staff of General Longstreet.
I was also introduced to Captain Schreibert, of the Prussian Army, who is a guest sometimes of General Lee and sometimes of General Stuart of the cavalry. He had been present at one of the late severe cavalry skirmishes, which have been of constant occurrence since the sudden advance of this army. This advance has been so admirably timed as to allow of the capture of Winchester, with its Yankee garrison and stores, and at the same time of the seizure of the gaps of the Blue Ridge range. All the officers were speaking with regret of the severe wound received in this skirmish by Major Von Bork, another Prussian, but now in the Confederate States service, and aid-de-camp to Jeb Stuart.
After eating some breakfast, Lawley and I rode ten miles into Winchester. My horse, minus his foreshoes, showed signs of great fatigue, but we struggled into Winchester at 5 P.M. I was fortunate enough to procure shoes for the horse, and, by Lawley’s introduction, admirable quarters for both of us at the house of the hospitable Mrs. ——, with whom he had lodged seven months before, and who was charmed to see him. Her two nieces, who are as agreeable as they are good-looking, gave us a miserable picture of the three captivities they have experienced under the Federal commanders, Banks, Shields, and Milroy.
The unfortunate town of Winchester seems to have been made a regular shuttlecock by the contending armies. “Stonewall” Jackson rescued it once, and last Sunday week his successor, General Ewell, drove out Milroy. The name of Milroy is always associated with that of Butler, and his rule in Winchester seems to have been somewhat similar to that of his illustrious rival in New Orleans. Should either of these two individuals fall alive into the hands of the Confederates, I imagine that Jeff Davis himself would be unable to save their lives, even if he were disposed to do so.
Before leaving Richmond, I heard every one expressing regret that Milroy should have escaped, as the recapture of Winchester seemed to be incomplete without him. More than 4000 of his men were taken in the two forts which overlook the town. They were carried by assault by a Louisianian brigade with trifling loss. The joy of the unfortunate inhabitants may easily be conceived at this sudden and unexpected relief from their last captivity, which had lasted six months.
During the whole of this time they could not legally buy an article of provisions without taking the oath of allegiance, which they magnanimously refused to do. They were unable to hear a word of their male relations or friends, who were all in the Southern Army. They were shut up in their houses after 8 P.M., and sometimes deprived of light. Part of our kind entertainer’s house was forcibly occupied by a vulgar, ignorant, and low-born Federal officer, ci-devant driver of a streetcar; and they were constantly subjected to the most humiliating insults, on pretense of searching the house for arms, documents, &c.
To my surprise, however, these ladies spoke of the enemy with less violence and rancor than almost any other ladies I had met with during my travels through the whole Southern Confederacy. When I told them so, they replied that they who had seen many men shot down in the streets before their own eyes knew what they were talking about, which other and more excited Southern women did not.
Ewell’s division is in front and across the Potomac; and before I left headquarters this morning, I saw Longstreet’s corps beginning to follow in the same direction.
23d June (Tuesday)—Lawley and I went to inspect the site of Mr. Mason’s (the Southern Commissioner in London) once pretty house—a melancholy scene. It had been charmingly situated near the outskirts of the town, and by all accounts must have been a delightful little place. When Lawley saw it seven months ago, it was then only a ruin; but since that time Northern vengeance (as directed by General Milroy) has satiated itself by destroying almost the very foundations of the house of this archtraitor, as they call him. Literally not one stone remains standing upon another; and the débris seems to have been carted away, for there is now a big hole where the principal part of the house stood. Troops have evidently been encamped upon the ground, which was strewed with fragments of Yankee clothing, accouterments, &c.
I understand that Winchester used to be a most agreeable little town, and its society extremely pleasant. Many of its houses are now destroyed or converted into hospitals. The rest look miserable and dilapidated. Its female inhabitants (for the able-bodied males are all absent in the army) are familiar with the bloody realities of war. As many as 5000 wounded have been accommodated here at one time. All the ladies are accustomed to the bursting of shells and the sight of fighting, and all are turned into hospital nurses or cooks.
From the utter impossibility of procuring corn, I was forced to take the horses out grazing a mile beyond the town for four hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. As one mustn’t lose sight of them for a moment, this occupied me all day, while Lawley wrote in the house. In the evening we went to visit two wounded officers in Mrs. ——’s house, a major and a captain in the Louisianian brigade which stormed the forts last Sunday week. I am afraid the captain will die. Both are shot through the body, but are cheery.
They served under “Stonewall” Jackson until his death, and they venerate his name, though they both agree that he has got an efficient successor in Ewell, his former companion in arms; and they confirmed a great deal of what General Johnston had told me as to Jackson having been so much indebted to Ewell for several of his victories. They gave us an animated account of the spirits and feeling of the army. At no period of the war, they say, have the men been so well equipped, so well clothed, so eager for a fight, or so confident of success—a very different state of affairs from that which characterized the Maryland invasion of last year, when half of the army were barefooted stragglers, and many of the remainder unwilling and reluctant to cross the Potomac.3
Miss —— told me today that dancing and horse racing are forbidden by the Episcopal Church in this part of Virginia.
24th June (Wednesday)—Lawley being in weak health, we determined to spend another day with our kind friends in Winchester. I took the horses out again for six hours to graze, and made acquaintance with two Irishmen, who gave me some cut grass and salt for the horses. One of these men had served and had been wounded in the Southern Army. I remarked to him that he must have killed lots of his own countrymen; to which he replied, “Oh yes, but faix they must all take it as it comes.” I have always observed that Southern Irishmen make excellent “Rebs,” and have no sort of scruple in killing as many of their Northern brethren as they possibly can.
I saw today many new Yankee graves, which the deaths among the captives are constantly increasing. Wooden headposts are put at each grave, on which is written, “An Unknown Soldier, U.S.A. Died of wounds received upon the field of battle, June 21, 22, or 23, 1863.”
A sentry stopped me today as I was going out of town, and when I showed him my pass from General Chilton, he replied with great firmness, but with perfect courtesy, “I’m extremely sorry, sir; but if you were the Secretary of War, or Jeff Davis himself, you couldn’t pass without a passport from the provost marshal.”
25th June (Thursday)—We took leave of Mrs. —— and her hospitable family, and started at 10 A.M. to overtake Generals Lee and Longstreet, who were supposed to be crossing the Potomac at Williamsport. Before we had got more than a few miles on our way, we began to meet horses and oxen, the first fruits of Ewell’s advance into Pennsylvania.
The weather was cool and showery, and all went swimmingly for the first fourteen miles, when we caught up M’Laws’s division, which belongs to Longstreet’s corps. As my horse about this time began to show signs of fatigue, and as Lawley’s pickaxed most alarmingly, we turned them in to some clover to graze, whilst we watched two brigades pass along the road. They were commanded, I think, by Semmes and Barksdale, *** and were composed of Georgians, Mississippians, and South Carolinians. They marched very well, and there was no attempt at straggling; quite a different state of things from Johnston’s men in Mississippi. All were well shod and efficiently clothed.
In the rear of each regiment were from twenty to thirty Negro slaves, and a certain number of unarmed men carrying stretchers and wearing in their hats the red badges of the ambulance corps; this is an excellent institution, for it prevents unwounded men falling out on pretense of taking wounded to the rear. The knapsacks of the men still bear the names of the Massachusetts, Vermont, New Jersey, or other regiments to which they originally belonged. There were about twenty wagons to each brigade, most of which were marked U.S., and each of these brigades was about 2800 strong. There are four brigades in M’Laws’s division. All the men seem in the highest spirits, and were cheering and yelling most vociferously.
We reached Martinsburg (twenty-two miles) at 6 P.M., by which time my horse nearly broke down, and I was forced to get off and walk. Martinsburg and this part of Virginia are supposed to be more Unionist than Southern. However, many of the women went through the form of cheering M’Laws’s division as it passed. I dare say they would perform the same ceremony in honor of the Yankees tomorrow.
Three miles beyond Martinsburg we were forced by the state of our horses to insist upon receiving the unwilling hospitality of a very surly native, who was evidently Unionist in his proclivities. We were obliged to turn our horses into a field to graze during the night. This was most dangerous, for the Confederate soldier, in spite of his many virtues, is, as a rule, the most incorrigible horse stealer in the world.
26th June (Friday)—I got up a little before daylight, and notwithstanding the drenching rain, I secured our horses, which to my intense relief were present. But my horse showed a back rapidly getting worse, and both looked “mean” to a degree. Lawley being ill, he declined starting in the rain, and our host became more and more surly when we stated our intention of remaining with him. However, the sight of real gold instead of Confederate paper, or even greenbacks, soothed him wonderfully, and he furnished us with some breakfast. All this time M’Laws’s division was passing the door; but so strict was the discipline, that the only man who loafed in was immediately pounced upon and carried away captive.
At 2 P.M., the weather having become a little clearer, we made a start, but under very unpromising circumstances. Lawley was so ill that he could hardly ride. His horse was most unsafe, and had cast a shoe; my animal was in such a miserable state that I had not the inhumanity to ride him; but, by the assistance of his tail, I managed to struggle through the deep mud and wet.
We soon became entangled with M’Laws’s division, and reached the Potomac, a distance of nine miles and a half, at 5 P.M. The river is both wide and deep, and in fording it (for which purpose I was obliged to mount), we couldn’t keep our legs out of the water. The little town of Williamsport is on the opposite bank of the river, and we were now in Maryland. We had the mortification to learn that Generals Lee and Longstreet had quitted Williamsport this morning at 11 o’clock, and were therefore obliged to toil on to Hagerstown, six miles further. This latter place is evidently by no means Rebel in its sentiments, for all the houses were shut up, and many apparently abandoned. The few natives that were about stared at the troops with sulky indifference.
After passing through Hagerstown, we could obtain no certain information of the whereabouts of the two generals, nor could we get any willing hospitality from anyone. But at 9 P.M., our, horses being quite exhausted, we forced ourselves into the house of a Dutchman, who became a little more civil at the sight of gold, although the assurance that we were English travelers, and not Rebels, had produced no effect. I had walked today, in mud and rain, seventeen miles, and I dared not take off my solitary pair of boots, because I knew I should never get them on again.
* Indian corn.
** The Honorable F. Lawley, author of the admirable letters from the Southern States, which appeared in The Times newspaper.
*** Barksdale was killed, and Semmes mortally wounded, at the battle of Gettysburg.