INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE
The brigade lost a good many men in this fight, Colonel Funston and Lieutenant-Colonel Langhorne, of the Eleventh Regiment both being badly wounded and permanently disabled. Company C lost three men killed, namely: James Wood, Silas Barber, and James Terrell, all recruits, and several wounded. Terrell was in the Mexican War. Capt. Lawrence Meem, Garland's chief of staff, was killed dead on the field, shot through the head; a fine soldier he was too, brave, handsome and accomplished. Capt. Henry Fulks, of Company F, was killed in a few feet of me. He had rushed into the Yankee camp exhausted from the double-quicking, sat down on a Yankee fly-tent, which sank to the ground with his weight, and had just raised his head to look to the front when a ball struck him about the head or face, when he sank back and was dead in a few minutes. I heard the whack of the ball as it struck him and saw the blood trickling down his neck. About this time Color-Bearer Hickok, of the Eleventh Regiment, who was standing close by with his flag in hand, and who was about the only man or officer I saw on his feet, was shot down, badly wounded, when Color-Guard Jim Haynes, of Company F, seized the colors and rushed to Captain Foulks, taking him in his arms, but still holding the flag aloft, and cried out, "Oh, my poor captain is killed; my poor captain is killed." So Captain Foulks died with the Confederate battle-flag waving over him, its folds partly enveloping his body.
I must again refer to Daniel Pillow, of Company C, who was so cool and deliberate and fought with such deadly intent at Williamsburg. When the troops fell back to the breastworks, Pillow, instead of getting down in the ditch as the others did, took his seat on the parapet while several comrades behind him loaded guns which he fired at the enemy with deliberate aim. At one time the order was given to cease firing; it was thought some Confederates were in front between the lines. Pillow paid no heed to the order. Colonel Corse, of the Seventeenth Regiment, came along the lines, and said to Pillow, "My man, cease firing, our men are over there." Pillow turned towards the Colonel and said with determination and sternness: "Don't I see the Stars and Stripes? I am going to shoot"; and continued firing as before. Colonel Corse stooping down, looked under the smoke and fog, and seeing the Yankee flag, said, "Well, fire away then."
Daniel Pillow was an humble private, an "overseer" at the beginning of the war, without education or pretensions, but he was a soldier, every inch of him. He was always at his post, ever ready for any duty. Being six feet or more tall, he marched at the head of the company, being always near me on the march and in battle; never grumbled or whined, and was one of the bravest of the brave. He was reported missing at Gettysburg, and never heard of again. I have no doubt that he fell with his face to the foe in that desperate charge in which Pickett's Division was immortalized, and that he sleeps in an unknown soldier's grave. All honor to his memory.
Walter Rosser, Jim Cocke, Sam Franklin, and Daniel Pillow were the big, or rather the tall, four of Company C, being over six feet high; were always at the head of the company, and all good fighters, too.
There was no more fighting on this part of the line. The Confederates had driven the Yankees from their works and camp, capturing all their camp equipage and stores, several pieces of cannon, 7,000 muskets, and about 350 prisoners. Longstreet's and D. H. Hill's divisions had soundly thrashed a Yankee corps under General Keys.
Gen. G. W. Smith was on the Confederate left towards Fair Oaks station, but was not engaged until nearly night, when General Sumner's Corps, crossing over the Chickahominy, came to the relief of Hientzleman and Kasey, whose troops fell back in that direction and were joined by Sumner in resisting Smith's attack. General Johnston, who was on this part of the line, was wounded about seven o'clock, when the command devolved on General Smith.
The wounding of the Confederate commander-in-chief at this critical moment was a great misfortune to the Confederates, and no doubt lessened their chances of the complete success aimed at—the destruction and capture of the two corps that had crossed over the Chickahominy.
For the number of troops engaged, this was one of the bloodiest battles of the war. The Confederate loss both days was estimated at a little over 6,000 killed and wounded; the Yankee loss a little over 5,000. The Confederates attacked the enemy in his breastworks, which accounts for the heavy loss sustained. The Confederates also captured many prisoners and several pieces of cannon.
The brigade remained behind the breastworks until after dark, then other troops took its place, when we marched back a short distance and slept under some scrub-oak trees. I remember that night a young kinsman of mine, George Bright, from Prince Edward County, who was acting as courier for General Kemper, came to where we were to enquire how we fared in the fight, and gave me a first-rate new blanket he had picked up in the Yankee camp, which I carried and used through the rest of the war, only parting with it when I left Fort Delaware, in May, 1865. I remember also that Dr. Thornhill got General Kasey's large camp-chair, with the General's name on it, which the doctor used as long as he remained in the field.
The next morning, which was Sunday, the brigade marched back to the breastworks, formed in line of battle at right angles with the works, facing towards Fair Oaks, where it remained during the day, lying in the hot (first day of June) sun, without any protection from its rays, all day long. There was considerable fighting towards Fair Oaks early that Sunday morning, but none on this immediate line.
That night the Confederates marched out from the lines back towards Richmond, Kemper's Brigade, as it was now called, going into camp just northeast of Richmond, where it remained until the 26th of June, 1862, when the Seven Days' battles around Richmond began.