CHAPTER IX.
The campaign of ’64 in the Valley of Virginia was marked by acts of barbarism and savage cruelty on the part of the enemy, such as history scarcely parallels; but certainly not in the annals of any nation making the least pretense to civilization. In years past, the American heart was wont to burn with righteous indignation at the recital of the wrongs of Poland and Hungary; but then Russia and Austria were but in their rudiments. It was reserved for the “best government the world ever saw” to reduce barbarity to a science, to substitute the torch for the sword, murder for honorable warfare, and to elevate the incendiary’s crime to the dignity of national policy. Having failed to subdue the men of the Southern Confederacy in the field, the soldiers of the Federal army, with such vast odds in their favor, of numbers and resources, with the whole world open to them, and contributing immensely both of men and means—the Federal soldiers, with all these advantages, descended to make mean war upon women and children and dumb brutes, seeking in the sufferings of these helpless victims the victory elsewhere denied them, and thus to strike their foe whom they dared not meet in fair conflict.
An official, high in rank in that army, and at this writing high in position under that Government, wrote that the Valley should be so devastated “that a crow flying over would be obliged to take its rations.” And faithful and vigorous were the efforts made to carry out that policy. The Vandals, whose name has become a synonym for ferocious cruelty, were accustomed to spare the ungarnered crops not required for their own maintenance; but by official orders from army headquarters, Sheridan’s army in the Valley of Virginia obscured the light of day, and illuminated the darkness of night, with the smoke and flames of the conflagration that devoured alike the dwelling and the stable, the barn and the mill, stored with hay and grain, and the yet ungathered crop standing on the ground. Whole fields of corn were wantonly fired in the shock, and in many instances horses and cattle in their stalls, and swine in their pens, were heartlessly burned alive. For two weeks and more did their fires fiercely burn, while the brave officers commanding this corps of murderers and incendiaries made report of their noble achievements, and the Yankee nation applauded. It was rebels, rebels against this most beneficent Government, who suffered, and in their pangs was offered a sacrifice holy and acceptable on the altar of Freedom. Truly Vandalism should be expunged from our vocabulary, and Yankeeism written instead.
General Hunter, whose chief monument was the smoke from the Virginia Military Institute, and the private dwellings burned by his order, had the honor of inaugurating this system of warfare in the Valley, which was afterwards so fully adopted and elaborately carried out by the Yankee Government.
All these brutal wrongs the First Maryland cavalry witnessed, and where powerless to prevent, they did not forget to avenge where opportunity offered.
Other wrongs they had to remember and avenge, such as their whole prior experience had never before known—the cold-blooded murder of their comrades.
In October, 1864, Churchill Crittenden and John Hartigan, privates of company C, were detailed to procure provisions for their company, which could only be obtained from the neighboring farm houses. The regiment was lying then in Page county, and as the country between the two armies had not been foraged so closely of its supplies, because of its being a middle ground, these two men, so detailed, sought the required rations between the two lines. Whilst getting their supplies at a farm house, a large scouting party of the enemy came suddenly upon them. They attempted to escape, and a running fight ensued, which resulted in the death of two or three of the enemy and the wounding of Crittenden severely, and the capture of both himself and Hartigan.
The prisoners were taken back two or three miles, and there by order of General Powell, then commanding Averill’s old brigade, shot in cold blood, denying them the poor privilege of writing to their friends, though Hartigan, particularly, who had a young and lovely wife, earnestly entreated with his last breath to be allowed to send her a message.
These facts were all carefully traced out, and verified by the statement of the citizen at whose house the two men were first attacked, and near which they fought and were captured; by the statement of the citizen, some two miles to the rear, near whose house they were buried, not by the assassins, but by the pitying farmer; and by the evidence rendered by the opened graves of the poor murdered men.
From that time, General Powell’s name was familiar to the ears and memories of the First Maryland cavalry, and many were the vows there uttered over the dead bodies of their comrades to avenge their death—and they were fearfully avenged, though the chief assassin escaped.
In November, 1864, the battalion, now in General Davidson’s brigade of Lomax’s division, crossed the mountain and camped near Washington, in Rappahannock county, in order to obtain supplies, which were now exceedingly scarce. For days at a time the only food was apples and bread made of corn meal of such miserable quality as to be utterly inedible except under pressure of the direst necessity. Coffee and sugar had long before disappeared—so long that it was a real effort of memory to recall their flavor—and the taste of meat was now a matter of rare occurrence, and then often obtained by the capture of a bewildered squirrel or rabbit, or the accidental falling of a tree on some luckless hog, which happened oftener than people would suppose or believe who are unacquainted with the pertinacity with which that animal will haunt a cavalry camp to steal from the horses, and at which they have often been known to be killed by a kick. Apples were, however, in abundance, and excellent, and assisted greatly in keeping up the commissariat.
Supplies of all kinds, however, were exhausted in two or three weeks, and the battalion moved back to the neighborhood of Madison Court House. Here it remained until December, when General Davidson was relieved by General Jackson, the former General having been only temporarily in command during the absence, while wounded, of the latter, the proper commander of the brigade.
At this time the enemy made a simultaneous advance upon Madison Court House, Staunton and Charlottesville, at which latter place Custer’s division of cavalry was fought by Brethod’s battery of horse artillery, composed mainly of Maryland soldiers, without support of any kind; and so bold and vigorous was their defence that Custer retired with loss, under the impression that a large force confronted him. The column advancing upon Madison Court House, consisting of two divisions, was engaged and held in check nearly a day by Jackson’s brigade, the fight having begun in the morning and lasted until 9 P. M. The battle was closed by a charge of the First Maryland upon the left flank of the enemy, which was most advanced. The charge was made less effective by reason of the leading squadrons stumbling into a deep and wide ditch, which, owing to the darkness, could not be seen until too late to prevent the horses from falling. But although not damaging the enemy to the extent hoped for, it had the effect to break and scatter his line in confusion, and keep him quiet for the balance of the night.
After waiting for some time for further demonstrations from the enemy, and there being none, General Jackson quietly withdrew his brigade a few miles, and the men lay down in the snow, which covered the ground to the depth of ten inches, to get a little rest. In the meantime General Lomax, who had been notified in the beginning of the enemy’s advance, was assembling at Liberty Mills his different brigades, which had necessarily been scattered in order to subsist. By daylight General Jackson was moving to that point, where, after partaking of some food, the troops were directed to throw up rude breastworks, which was done by piling fence rails along the banks of the stream. This had scarcely been accomplished when the enemy made his appearance and deployed most beautifully on the opposite hills, when a brisk skirmish began, which continued all day and until night, when the exhausted troops were ordered to unsaddle and seek some rest, but they had barely dismounted when a courier dashed up and reported that the enemy had crossed the stream, and that they were to be charged at once. In an instant the gallant troopers sprang to their horses, and Jackson’s brigade dashed at the enemy’s advance. For some time the ground was stubbornly contested, when Jackson’s column to the right and left of the First Maryland broke, which compelled the whole to fall back. They were quickly rallied, however, when a desperate charge was made, and the enemy in turn compelled to retire. Lomax then withdrew his division to Gordonsville, where it rested that night, and at daylight it was again drawn up in line of battle to meet the enemy, who had made his appearance. A sharp but brief conflict ensued, in which the enemy was repulsed, when he withdrew, and finally retired by the road he came to Winchester.