BATTLE OF PHILLIPI.
Brigadier-General Thomas A. Morris arrived at Grafton on the evening of June 1st, and took command of the Union forces. An expedition was immediately organized to surprise and attack the rebels at Philippi, under the command of Colonel Porterfield. The troops left in two divisions. The First Virginia regiment, part of the Ohio Sixteenth, and the Seventh Indiana, under Colonel Kelly, moved eastward, by rail to Thornton, a distance of five miles, and from there marched on twenty-two miles, to Phillipi, reaching the town on the lower side. The second division, consisting of the Sixth and Seventh Indiana, the Fourteenth Ohio, and a section of artillery under Lieutenant-Colonel Sturgis, met by detachments at Webster, on the North-western Virginia railroad, and marched twelve miles to Phillipi. The combined forces were commanded by Colonels Dumont and Lander, and at eight o’clock on the night of the 2d of June marched forward through one of the most overwhelming storms known to our country that year. Lander had been detailed to a special command by General Morris, and in the terrible march that followed, through darkness, mud and rain he led the way, sometimes exploring the route three miles ahead of his forces, in the midst of profound darkness, and through mud so deep and tenacious that every forward step was a struggle. The men followed, bravely toiling through the miry soil, staggering forward in thick darkness, and pelted by the rain so violently that they could not have seen the road had it been daylight. Still, not a murmur was heard. Against the whole force of the elements the brave fellows struggled on, eager for the storm of fire which was soon to follow the deluge that poured upon them. Now and then Lander’s majestic form, seated upon his charger, would loom upon them through the darkness, returning from his scouting duty to cheer them with his deep, sympathetic voice, which aroused them like a trumpet. Thus they moved on, supported by one stern purpose, through woods, across valleys, and over hills, the storm drowning their approach till they drew up on the edge of the town overlooking the enemy. But it was not altogether a surprise. Just before they reached the town the troops had passed a farm-house. A woman within that house sprang from her bed as she saw the lines of troops filing slowly by in the misty gray of the dawn, and guessed their object. She instantly aroused her little son and sent him by a short cross-road to give the alarm. The boy was quick of foot, but the hopes of conflict had so aroused the energies of these jaded men that he was but a few minutes in advance of them.
Lander’s troops took position on a hill across the river and below the town, commanding it and the encampments around. He at once planted two pieces of artillery, and prepared to open fire at exactly four o’clock, the hour agreed upon for the attack, which was to be made at once by both divisions. Lander was to assault them in front, while Kelly was to attack the rear and cut off all retreat. But Lander found his division alone before the enemy. The terrible night, the almost impassable roads, and a march of twenty-two miles had delayed Kelly’s forces, and when he did arrive it was to come in by mistake below the town.
The presence of Lander’s troops aroused the town and threw it into terrible commotion. In vain Lander searched the distant hills, impatient for Kelly’s appearance. The hour of attack had arrived and passed. The men became impatient as their leader, who, in his indomitable courage commenced the battle with a portion of his forces.
When Lander gave the order his eager men sprang to their posts, and the artillery opened fire. As the first gun awoke its thunder on the encampments, Kelly advanced, but in the wrong direction. He instantly comprehended Lander’s action, and with prompt courage charged upon the encampments. The batteries had by this time obtained the range, and were pouring in their messengers of terror and death, tearing through tents and cabins, and scattering the rebels like chaff in every direction. After firing a volley of musketry, Lander advanced.
Colonel Kelly’s command was close upon the enemy, the Virginia troops in advance, the Henry Clay Guards in front, and Colonel Kelly and Captain Fordyce leading, while Colonel Lander’s force came rushing down the hill to the bridge and joined in an impetuous pursuit of the fugitives. Colonel Kelly, who, with a bravery amounting almost to rashness, had been foremost from the very first, was shot by a concealed foe, the ball entering the left breast and lodging beneath the shoulder blade. As his men conveyed him to a place of safety, this brave man, while in the agony of his pain, exclaimed, “I expect I shall have to die. I would be glad to live, if it might be, that I might do something for my country, but if it cannot be, I shall have at least the consolation of knowing that I fell in a just cause.” But he was not destined to be cut off in the zenith of his fame and usefulness. After a few weeks of danger and anguish he was again performing noble duty for the country he loved so well.
In this dashing victory fifteen of the rebels were killed, a large number wounded, and ten taken prisoners, together with a quantity of camp equipage, arms, &c. The organization of the rebels at that point was completely broken up, and the men driven to the mountains.