CHAPTER II.
For some time prior to the 21st of April extensive preparations had been going on in the command of General Jones for a move in some direction. These preparations were anxiously watched by the officers and men, for all were heartily sick of the camp, and were ready for any undertaking. Orders were at length given to cook two days’ rations, which made it evident that the long anticipated movement was at hand. On that day the forces of Jones (numbering three thousand five hundred men) were marshaled, and soon on the road to Moorefield. The roads were in a shocking condition, and the troops moved slowly, and after marching fifteen miles the command went into camp.
Next day the object of the expedition was made known. As had been surmised, it was intended to operate upon the line of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and to secure supplies from the rich and fertile valleys of West Virginia.
The Maryland Line accompanied the expedition—the infantry and artillery as far as Moorefield, and the cavalry the whole way.
On the third day, the command reached the vicinity of Moorefield, in the midst of a drenching rain, which continued throughout the night and the next day. In the morning, the several mountain streams in the vicinity of that place were found so swollen as to be almost impassable. By running great risk, however, the command reached the banks of the Potomac, which they found impossible to cross at that point. There was, therefore, no alternative but to move down to Petersburg, thirteen miles distant, and try another ford. The point was reached on the afternoon of the 24th, but even here it was found the attempt would be extremely hazardous. But General Jones was determined to proceed at every risk, and the men were ordered to plunge into the rapid stream.
A fearful scene then presented itself, and for some time baffled description. Hundreds of frightened steeds, and their no less frightened riders, were struggling in the dark, rapid waters; and, alas! more than one poor soldier and his gallant horse, that had borne him so faithfully, were swept away, and no more to be seen until the turbulent waters should have subsided and surrendered up their lifeless bodies.
The crossing was at length effected, and the command moved up the stream and went into camp within three miles of where it had started that morning, after having traveled a distance of twenty-six miles. The start was a bad one, but all hoped the end would prove more propitious.
Unincumbered with artillery, wagons, and infantry, the command started off at a rapid gait, but after marching a few miles, the 7th Virginia, which was in advance, suddenly came upon the enemy’s pickets. It was soon ascertained that the main body (numbering about one hundred and fifty men) was posted in a log school house, which completely commanded the road through Greenland Gap, over which Jones must necessarily pass. A flag of truce was sent forward, and a demand made for the surrender of the place, which was refused. An assault was then ordered, but as the troops could only move over the narrow road two abreast, it was repulsed with loss, Colonel Richard Dulaney, of the 7th Virginia, being among the wounded.
In a second assault, on foot, about nightfall, the men succeeded in reaching the school house, though not without severe loss, and demanded its surrender. The reply was a volley of musketry, through the loopholes, and not until the place was fired did the miserable creatures surrender, and beg piteously for the worthless lives they had forfeited by all the rules of war; and they were spared.
The Confederate loss was heavy, and the First Maryland suffered severely in officers and men. Among the wounded of the former were Major Brown, Captain R. C. Smith, Adjutant Booth, and Lieutenants Pue and Beatty.
This obstacle overcome, and the prisoners sent to the rear, the column pushed rapidly forward, and, after proceeding some ten miles, the First Maryland was ordered to move towards Oakland, whilst the main body took another direction.
Riding all day and night, at one o’clock on the 26th the First Maryland charged into Oakland, Md., capturing fifty prisoners.
Leaving that place, the column moved upon Kingwood. Arriving within a short distance of the town, a halt was ordered, and Captain Bond’s company directed to charge the place. By fours the company moved forward at the trot, and as they approached, were surprised that they were not fired upon. “Gallop-march, charge!” shouted the gallant Bond; and, yelling like furies, Company A dashed through the village, slashing right and left with their sabres at the imaginary foe. But, alas, they had left two weeks before, and nobody was hurt. A disappointment, Captain; but perhaps you will be better rewarded next time.
There was but an hour’s halt here, when the column moved in the direction of Morgantown, which place was reached at 1 P. M. The citizens had assembled in considerable force, prepared to dispute Brown’s advance, but upon a demand being made for the surrender of the place, they quietly submitted, no doubt thinking discretion the better part of valor. That night the battalion went into camp at Independence, and next morning made connection with the main body.
Returning to Morgantown, the command crossed the river, and, after a short halt, commenced a night march in the direction of Fairmont, at which place they arrived about 8 o’clock next morning. A body of four hundred infantry was posted here to dispute their passage. They were drawn up in an open field, surrounded by high fences. The First Maryland was ordered to charge. It was a most desperate undertaking, but at the command of the gallant Brown they dashed forward. Upon reaching the fence, and within fifty yards of the enemy, they were received with a terrific fire, which, strange to say, killed sixty horses and but one man—young Myers, of Frederick. In an instant the fence was thrown down, and Brown was upon them, when they called for quarter.
Thence Jones moved upon Clarksburg, but finding the enemy in strong force, the place was flanked by way of Bridgeport. This town was also charged by the First Maryland, resulting in the capture of sixty men. In this affair Robert Whitely, of Baltimore, was killed.
On the 2d of May, the column reached a place called Buchanan, after many days of rapid riding, which was only performed by continually changing the broken-down horses for fresh ones found in the country. At Buchanan Major Brown’s wound became so painful as to necessitate his going to the rear; and, although not the senior officer, owing to his experience and acknowledged judgment and discretion, Captain Frank Bond was called upon to command the little battalion.
An early start was made on the morning of the 6th, in the direction of Parkersburg, and marching all night, at daylight on the 7th the column struck the railroad at Cairo, where, at the summons of Captain Bond, a body of fifty Federal infantry surrendered. After destroying the bridge at this point, the command moved on several miles farther, where it encamped for the night, having made a march of eighty miles without removing saddles.
On the 8th, but twenty miles were made, and the troops went into camp at Webb’s Mills, tired and hungry. Provisions for men and forage for horses must be had, but there seemed a scarcity of both. The farmer upon whose place the First Maryland encamped declared he had neither. The smokehouse was searched, and nothing but two or three pieces of bacon was revealed, which the man insisted was all he had in the world. Poor fellow! he had the sympathies of the whole command. But he was a Union Yankee, and what Yankee won’t lie, even for a piece of bacon? for while all hands were sympathizing with him in his extreme destitution, some of the men inadvertently kicked over a few armsfull of rotten hay where had been an old haystack, when, behold! before their astonished vision lay an immense pile of bacon buried in the ground, and thus covered. The poor old wretch was wild with fright, but when assured only enough would be taken to feed the few men of the command, he could scarcely credit his senses. We wonder whether had it been a Yankee command in a Rebel country the owner would have escaped with his bacon? No; had he saved the house over his head he would have been fortunate.
Bright and early, on the morning of the 8th of May, the troopers were called from their sound slumbers by the loud blasts of the bugle, and after a scanty feed given to their horses, and a slice of the old man’s bacon partaken of by themselves, the “mount” was sounded and the march resumed. They were that day to witness an unusual sight, as all were aware, should nothing interfere, for the command was on its way to Oil City, to destroy the immense quantity of oil known to be there. The roads were in a most wretched condition, but the twenty miles that separated them from their prey was soon traversed.
As expected, a large amount of oil was on hand, calculated at 300,000 barrels, which was principally in large boats, into which it had been pumped, to be conveyed off and barreled. The coming of the audacious Rebels was altogether unexpected, or much of it could have been removed to a place of safety. But this time the fates decreed against the Yankees, and many thousands of dollars worth of Northern capital was to fall a prey to an outraged people’s avenging torch.
Preparations were immediately made for a grand illumination. The works were first touched off, and next the barges, and perhaps such a sight as followed it had never before been the province of man to witness. Immense volumes of dense black smoke arose, and with the lurid flame mounted high in the air. The burning boats were cast off from their moorings, and floated down with the current, enveloped in smoke and flame, and as the oil ran out and covered the surface of the water, it appeared as though before them lay a sea of liquid fire. For hours the raiders watched the vast conflagration, which seemed a lamp of magnificent proportions, lighted to illuminate the whole world.
It served as a beacon to the enemy, though, and the troopers were admonished to be up and away.
On the 10th, the march was resumed, and by the next day the column passed through De Kalb and Glenville, and encamped within six miles of Duttonville.
For several days the march was continued at a rapid gait, without an incident worth mentioning. Horses, beeves and sheep were gathered in great numbers, and started for the Valley, to mount and feed the troops of the Confederate army. Save these, all other property was respected.
Through Dutton, across Elk river, on they went, passing “Imboden’s Life Insurance Command” at Somerville; thence across the almost perpendicular Flat Top mountains; and on the 16th encamped within four miles of Lewisburg—men and horses completely broken down.
A rest was here absolutely necessary to refresh man and beast. But a day was allowed, however, and on the 18th they were once more on the wing, and from day to day the march continued homeward, until the battalion reached its old camp, near New Market, on the 30th of May, after an absence of thirty-nine days, on one of the most remarkable raids of the war.
But the expedition was by no means a success. General Jones’ original purpose was to destroy the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at various important points, but, as he might have expected, these points were guarded by large bodies of troops, which compelled him to forego that intention. He started without accurate information, and only learned it when in the enemy’s country. He then turned his attention to gathering the stock along his route, much of which, however, never reached the Valley. It is true he did destroy an immense amount of property and a few unimportant bridges, but it had no practical results. One of the valuable lives lost, then, was worth more than all the good accomplished. And, moreover, his command returned to the Valley in a completely broken down and unserviceable condition.