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SOME PAGES TROM ME SCRAP ROOK
CONFEDERATE HEROES.
Hon. Thos. E. Watson, Thomson, Ga.
Dear Sir: In the Civil War there
was so much hard, desperate fighting
and so many brave men, it was only
on rare occasions that a soldier could
perform some deed worthy of the
plaudits of his comrades. I belong
ed to Company M, First Regiment of
Georgia regulars, composed of brave
men, thoroughly disciplined and un
der the command of brave and fear
less officers, and it was but natural
that I should see many thrilling
deeds of bravery during the war.
But the bravest and most unselfish
act I saw performed was by Privates
David Gann and Pat Kelly, of my
company, at the battle of Peach Or
chard, on the 29th day of June, 1862,
during the seven days’ fighting
around Richmond, Va.
In order to better understand my
narrative, we will go back to the be
ginning of the siege of Richmond.
After retreating from Yorktown,
the Army of Northern Virginia, un
der the command, of General J. E.
Johnston, arrived in the vicinity of
Richmond on the 17th day of March,
1862, and occupied a position five
miles north of the city. The next
day the Army of the Potomac, under
the command of General George B.
McClellan, arrived and formed in
front of the Confederates, with his
line <>xtend|ing from White Oak
swamp to Mechanicsville, a distance
of fifteen miles, crossing the Chicka
hominy river at Meadows Bridge. The
battle of Seven Pines, or Fair Oaks,
was fought on the 31st day of May,
and continued on the morning of the
first day of June, until General J. E.
Johnston was desperately wounded
and carried from the field. General
Robert E. Lee, who was in Rich
mond, military adviser to President
Davis, was ordered to take command,
and rode to the front a comparative
stranger to the soldiers on the field.
But the man and his opportunity, had
met, as the sequel showed. General
Lee ordered the troops martialed at
Seven Pines back to their original
position on the line, while the Fed
erals, no doubt, returned to their
picks and shovels, strengthening
their formidable line of works, in
terspersed with numerous field and
siege batteries along the line. In the
meantime the fertile military brain
of General Lee was arranging to
spring a surprise on his friends, the
enemy.
General Stonewall Jackson, the
greatest military genius produced by
the Civil War, with a force of 30,-
000 men, had just achieved a series
of brilliant victories in the’ valley be
yond the Blue Ridge Mountains, over
Fremont, Shields and Banks, and was
ordered to General Lee’s support.
By forced marches his famous foot
cavalry reached the vicinity of Me
chanicsville on the 26th day of June,
and his opening gun was the first
news McClellan had of his approach.
I have a letter from a soldier in the
53rd Virginia Regiment in regard to
that first gun. He states that a farm
house in the rear of Mechanicsville
was used as headquarters by a Fed
eral general, and on the 26th day of
June several generals were gathered
in his room with charts and maps
showing the position of Johnston and
the three Federal commanders in the
valley. All of them decided that
Johnston and his army had been
gobbletrup. That decision was reach
ed, as that first gun was fired, the
shell crashing through the house
where they were seated. General
Jackson, by turning the Federal right
flank, enabled General Lee, with
Longstreet and D. H. Hill, to cross
the river above Meadows Bridge and
join their forces with his, leaving
General John B. Magruder with 25,-
000 men between the left wing of the
Federal army and Richmond.
The battle of Mechanicsville on the
26th day of June was a bloody one,
so was Coal Harbor on the 27th, and
Gains Mill on the 28th, Lee’s forces
driving everything before them. Dur
ing the night of the 28th the right
wing of the Federal army recrossed
the river and joined the left; at the
same time the left was withdrawn
from Magruder’s front. Magruder’s
left was on Garnett’s Farm, held by
General Tige Anderson’s Brigade,
and during the night remained in
line of battle, with orders to sleep
on our arms.
Before sunrise on Sunday morn
ing scouts were sent forward, who
discovered that the enemy’s works
had been deserted, and when they re
turned and reported, the command
was ordered to the front, marching
out left in front. We passed the
birch house on Garnett’s Farm, then
crossed the branch on to Golden’s
Farm, and while marching through
we met a cavalryman who had been
in the enemy’s camp, riding at full
speed, holding aloft in his right hand
a woman’s garment. He was greeted
with that hair-raising rebel yell as
he passed down the line. Nothing
but a garment, but worn by a wo
man. What a marvelous influence
the fair sex wielded over the soldier
boys. We passed around the ex
treme right of the enemy’s works
next to the river, and soon entered
their deserted camps, with the tents
all standing as though they were out
on parade. After passing through
the camp the brigade was halted, and
the regulars were ordered to the
front, where we were deployed a.s
skirmishers and advanced through a
thick piece of woods. The boys must
Lave been like myself, thought the
Yankees were gone for good, as some
were singing, while others whistled as
as we made our way through the thick
bushes. Without a moment’s warn
ing, we received a volley in our
faces, the enemy being not more than
forty feet away. They then retreated
on the double-quick, while out lino
was halted.
.1 saw a short distance in our front
an old stubble field, and by looking
closely through the bushes saw what
must have caused my knees to bump
together, cold chills to run up my
back, and my hair to rise up. About
200 yards distant was a small stream.
WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN.
with trees scattered along near its
course, and behind them was posted
the enemy’s skirmish line. Beyond
the stream was a large field, and
about sixty yards from the stream 1
counted eight pieces of artillery in
position ready for action, and on
their left a line of infantry drawn
up in line of battle. 1 could only see
four or five companies of the right
regiment, but there was a brigade of
five thousand men in line. You might
have called me a weak-kneed soldier,
but the eight companies to the right
of me had the woods to advance
through, while the company we had
had to make the distance in full
view and under the fire of the ene
my. After a few minutes’ halt we
wqre _ forward again, and
when Company M reached the clear
ing we changed. We knew the bat
tery and line of battle would not fire
while their skirmishers were in
front, and we knew the quicker we
could get over the ground the fewer
shots *they would get. Besides, we
wanted rout the skirmishers and
get possession of the trees before the
line opened fire.
As I reached the stream, I saw a
broad-shouldered fellow about half
way between the branch and the line,
Bringing my gun to my shoulder, I
took deliberate aim at the small of
his back and fired, and with a spring
and a bound I landed in the under
brush behind a good-sized tree, and
none too soon, as both the battery
and line opened, the bullets striking
the trees and bushes like a summer
shower of rain, and the battle was
on in all its fury. In the meantime
a four-gun Confederate battery dash
ed on the field, in the rear of Com
pany M, and opened fire, placing
Company M between the two bat
teries, making one side of the tree
as safe as the other. But the fire of
the Confederate battery was of short
duration, as they were disabled and
carried from the field. After the
fight had raged for some time a ball
was lodged in my gun, and I stepped
back from the tree to drive it up, by
striking the rammer against the tree.
A musket ball struck my left arm
above the elbow, and my arm drop
ped limp by my side, being complete
ly paralyzed, and for hours I could
not move a finger. ' Seating myself
near the little stream, I thought I
could resuscicate my by bathing
and rubbing it. While thus engaged,
my brother, who was behind the next
tree, was mortally wounded, receiv
ing a musket ball and buckshot in
his left side. Sergeant W. J. Garrett
proposed to carry him out, but I told
him it would be worth any man’s life
to attempt it, and we would wait for
a better opportunity.
After the battle had been raging
for several hours, a regiment flanked
our line on the left and a retreat was
ordered; the men about faced and
were quickly out of sight, and the
Federate ceased firing.
God alone will ever know the an
guish of my heart when I realized
that my brother and myself had been
left to our fate. Aiding or relieving
PAGE THREE
him was out of the question, while
my left arm hung limp by my side,
and he weighed 185 pounds and help
less. All that I could do was to drop
down by his side and share his fate.
While it seemed like an age, it might
have been only a few minutes when
I heard footsteps approaching, and
a cheerful voice say, “Billie, we will
carry him out.” I recognized the
voice of David Gann, and when I
looked up saw that Pat Kelly was
with him. If Gann and Kelly had
been near my brother when the re
treat was ordered, I would have
thought it nothing more than their
duty to carry him out, but they were
some distance to our left, and the
news must have been carried to them
down the lines. They could have re
treated like the rest of the company,
but that would have been deserting
a wounded comrade on the field, and
a brave soldier could never do that.
They picked him up between them,
while I carried the guns, and as we
entered the clearing in full view of
the enemy, the artillery and every
musket in sight opened fire. Talk
about Hades or the air full of the
missiles of death, but that was the
hottest place that I have ever been
in. The ground was ploughed up,
and dirt thrown over us by cannister
and bursting shells, while the air was
full of musket balls. How either one
of us escaped death has always been
a mystery to me; but I have always
believed that an all seeing eye was
watching over those brave boys in
their heroic effort to save their
wounded comrade. They could not
carry him over thirty steps without
putting him down, and all the time
he was begging them to leave him.
'‘Leave me, boys,” he would say,
‘‘and save yourselves; you will never
live to carry me out.” But they
paid no more heed to his pleading
than the storm of iron and lead that
was around them. After carrying
him 150 yards under fire, they enter
ed a dim trail through the woods, and
the firing ceased. They carried him
half a mile to a farm house, placed
him on a mattress, with his head in
my lap, then returned to the com
pany. An hour later he was sent in
an ambulance to the Birch Home on
Garnett’s Farm, and fifteen minutes
later his brave spirit winged its fight
to that home where all good soldiers
who did their full and complete duty
are at rest.
In the meantime -the Federate had
retreated to Savage Station, with the
regulars in pursuit, where Lee and
McClellan again hooked horns, and a
desperate battle ensued.
After my brother had been carried
off, I started in search of my com
pany, and when I crossed the little
stream where he was wounded, I
looked for the man I shot at, but
failed to find him, but found his
knapsack, bored through and blood
ied by a musket ball. The dead and
wounded had been carried off when
they retreated. Near the little
stream I saw what I have never seen
before or since, a dead man laugh
( Continued on Page Fourteen.)