History of Kershaw's Brigade / With Complete Roll of Companies, Biographical Sketches, Incidents, Anecdotes, etc.

by D. A. Dickert

The want of alertness on the part of the enemy threw our pickets off their guard. Colonel Maffett was lounging under the shade of a tree in the rear of the skirmish line, with a few of the reserves, while those on the picket line lay at convenient distances, some with their coats off, others lying under the shade of trees or in the corners of a fence, all unconscious of an approaching enemy. The Federals had surveyed the field, and seeing our pickets so lax, and in such bad order for defense, undertook to surprise them. With a body of cavalry, concealed by the forest in their front, they made their way, under [419] cover of a ravine, until within a short distance of the unsuspecting pickets. Then, with a shout and a volley, they dashed upon the line and over it, capturing nearly all, made their way to the rear, and there captured lieutenant Colonel Maffett and many of his reserves.

Commotion struck our camp. Drums beat, men called to arms, line of battle formed, and an advance at double-quick was made through the old field, in the direction of our unfortunate friends. But all too late. The surprise had been complete and the captured prisoners had been hurried to the rear. Colonel Maffett's horse, which was grazing near the scene of the skirmish, galloped through the enemy's disorganized lines, some trying to head him off, others to capture him, but he galloped defiantly on to camp. The enemy amused themselves by throwing a few shells into our lines.

The horse of Colonel Maffett was carried home by his faithful body servant, Harry, where both lived to a ripe old age. Not so with the unfortunate master. Reared in the lap of luxury, being an only son of a wealthy father and accustomed to all the ease and comforts that wealth and affluence could give, he could not endure the rigor and hardships of a Northern prison, his genial spirits gave way, his constitution and health fouled him, and after many months of incarceration he died of brain fever. But through it all he bore himself like a true son of the South. He never complained, nor was his proud spirit broken by imprisonment, but it chafed under confinement and forced obedience to prison rule and discipline. The Confederacy lost no more patriotic, more self-sacrificing soldier than Lieutenant Colonel Robert Clayton Maffett.

On the 27th we marched to Princeton, and remained until the 31st, picketing on the Opequan River, then returned to Charlestown. On the day before, the Third Regiment went out on the Opequan, being in hearing of the church bells and in sight of the spires of Washington. What an anomaly! The Federals besieging the Confederate capital, and the Confederates in sight of Washington.

From Charlestown we were moved back to Winchester and went into camp for a few days. So far Early's demonstration had been a failure. Either to capture Washington or weaken Grant, for day in and day out, he kept pegging away at Petersburg and the approaches to it [420] and Richmond. These seemed to be the objective points, and which eventually caused the downfall of the two places. The enemy in our front had moved up to Berryville, a small hamlet about eight miles from Winchester, and on the 30th of September we were ordered out to attack the plan. The Federals had fortified across the turn-pike and had batteries placed at every commanding point. In front of this fortification was a large old field, through which we had to advance. The Brigade was formed in line of battle in some timber at the edge of the opening and ordered forward. The frowning redoubts lined with cannon and their formidable breastwork, behind which bristled the bright bayonets, were anything but objects to tempt the men as they advanced to the charge. As soon as we entered the opening the shells came plunging through our ranks, or digging up the earth in front. But the Brigade marched in good order, not a shot being fired, the enemy all the while giving us volley after volley. The men began to clamor for a charge, so much so that when we were about half way through the old field the command came "charge." Then a yell and a rush, each man carrying his gun in the most convenient position, and doing all in his power to reach the work first. The angle in front of the Third was nearer than the line in front of the other Regiments. Just before we reached the works the enemy fled to a grove in rear under an incline and began firing on our troops, who had now reached the work and began to fire from the opposite side. The firing in this way became general all along the line. The Artillery had withdrawn to the heights in rear and opened upon us a tremendous fire at short range. The enemy could be seen from our elevated position moving around our right through a thicket of pines, and some one called out to the troops immediately on the right of the Third Regiment, "The enemy are flanking us." This caused a momentary panic, and some of the Brigade left the captured work and began running to the rear. Colonel Rutherford ordered some of his officers to go down the line and get the demoralized troops to return to the ranks, which was accomplished without much delay.

The enemy in front began slackening their fire, which caused some of the men to leap over the works and advance to the brow of a hill just in front of us to get a better view. The enemy rallied and began [421] pouring a heavy fire into the bold spirits who had advanced beyond the lines, wounding quite a number. General Kershaw, with a brigade of the division, crossed over the turn-pike and began a counter-move on the enemy's right, which caused such panic, that in a few minutes their whole line withdrew beyond the little town. Acting Assistant Adjutant General Pope, on the brigade staff, received a painful wound in the cheek, but outside of a sprinkling throughout the brigade of wounded, our loss was slight.

That night the enemy was reinforced, and about 9 o'clock next day there was a general advance. The enemy had changed his direction, and now was approaching parallel to the turn-pike. I was in command of the brigade skirmishers during the night, posted in a large old field on left of the turn-pike. Just as a detail, commanded by an officer of the Twentieth, came to relieve me, the enemy was seen advancing through a forest beyond the old field. The officer, not being familiar with the skirmish tactics, and never being on a skirmish line during action before, asked me to retain the command and also my line of skirmishers and conduct the retreat, which I did. The brigade at that time was on the retreat, and this double skirmish line covered and protected the rear. If there is any sport or amusement at all in battle, it is while on skirmish line, when the enemy is pressing you. On a skirmish line, usually, the men are posted about ten paces apart and several hundred yards in front of the main line of battle, to receive or give the first shock of battle. In our case the line was doubled, making it very strong, as strong, in fact, as some of the lines of General Lee's at that time holding Petersburg. When the enemy's skirmishers struck the opening our line opened upon them, driving them helter-skelter back into the woods. I ordered an advance, as the orders were to hold the enemy in check as long as possible to give our main line and wagon train time to get out of the way. We kept up the fire as we advanced, until we came upon the enemy posted behind trees; then, in our turn, gave way into the opening. Then the enemy advanced, so forward and backward the two lines advanced and receded, until by the support of the enemy's line of battle we were driven across the turn-pike, where we assembled and followed in rear of the brigade. There is nothing in this world that is more exciting, more nerve stirring to a soldier, than to participate in a battle line of [422] skirmishers, when you have a fair field and open fight. There it takes nerve and pluck, however, it is allowed each skirmisher to take whatever protection he can in the way of tree or stump. Then on the advance you do not know when to expect an enemy to spring from behind a tree, stump, or bush, take aim and fire. It resembles somewhat the order of Indian warfare, for on a skirmish line "all is fair in war."

We returned without further molestation to the vicinity of Winchester, the enemy not feeling disposed to press us. It was never understood whose fault it was that a general engagement did not take place, for Early had marched and began the attack, and pressed the enemy from his first line of works, then the next day the enemy showed a bold front and was making every demonstration as if to attack us.

General Kershaw having been promoted to Major General, General James Connor was sent to command the brigade. He was formerly Colonel of the Twenty-second North Carolina Regiment, promoted to Brigadier, and commanded McGowan's Brigade after the battle of Spottsylvania Court House. After the return of General McGowan, he was assigned to the command of Laws' Brigade, and about the 6th or 7th of September reached us and relieved Colonel Henagan, of the Eighth, who had so faithfully led the old First Brigade since the battle of the Wilderness.

While in camp near Winchester, the Eighth Regiment, under Colonel Henagan, was sent out on picket on the Berryville road. In the morning before day General Sheridan, with a large force of cavalry, made a cautious advance and captured the videttes of the Eighth, which Colonel Henagan had posted in front, and passing between the regiment and the brigade, made a sudden dash upon their rear, capturing all of the regiment, with Colonel Henagan, except two companies commanded by the gallant Captain T.F. Malloy. These two companies had been thrown out on the right, and by tact and a bold front Captain Malloy saved these two companies and brought them safely into camp. The whole brigade mourned the loss of this gallant portion of their comrades. Colonel Henagan, like Colonel Maffett, sank under the ill treatment and neglect in a Northern prison and died there.