After his return to his native State, he entered the South Carolina College, along with many others, who in after years made their State and themselves immortal by their fiery zeal in the War of Secession. At the college young James was a great favorite of all who knew him best, and while not a close student of text-books, he was an extensive reader, always delighting his friends with wit and humor. The student life, however, failed to satisfy his adventurous spirit, and wandering away to the far distant West, seeking adventure or congenial pursuits, he received a commission of Lieutenant in the United States Army.
The storm cloud of war, so long hovering over the land, was now about to burst, and Lieutenant James seeing separation and perhaps war inevitable, resigned his commission, and hastened to offer his sword to his native State. He commanded a battery at Fort Johnson, on James' Island, and shared with General Ruffin the honor of firing the first gun at Fort Sumter, a shot that was to electrify the world and put in motion two of the grandest and mightiest armies of all times.
CHAPTER XIII
Battle of Fredericksburg—The Fifteenth Regiment and Third Battalion Join Brigade.
A portion of the Federal Army had preceded Lee, reaching the heights opposite Fredericksburg two days before the arrival of Kershaw's Brigade and the other parts of the division. The Federals had been met by a small body of Confederates doing outpost duty there and held at bay till the coming of Longstreet with his five divisions. General [177] Lee was not long in determining the route Burnsides had selected and hurried Jackson on, and placed him some miles to our right, near Hamilton's Crossing, on the Richmond and Fredericksburg Railroad. When Burnsides became aware of the mighty obstacle of Lee's battalions between him and his goal, the deep, sluggish river separating the two armies, he realized the trouble that lay in his path. He began fortifying the ridges running parallel to and near the river, and built a great chain of forts along "Stafford Heights," opposite Fredericksburg. In these forts he mounted one hundred and thirty-seven guns, forty being siege pieces brought down from Washington by way of the Potomac and Acquia Creek, and lined the entire range of hills with his heaviest and long-distanced field batteries. These forts and batteries commanded the river and plain beyond, as well as every height and elevation on the Southern side. The range of hills on the opposite side were much higher and more commanding than those on the Southern side, still Lee began fortifying Taylor's, Mayree's, and Lee's Heights, and all the intervening hills also, by building forts and heavy redoubts, with protected embrasures on the flanks. Between these hills and along their crests the infantry threw up light earthworks. It could not be said that ours was a fortified position in any sense, only through natural barriers. There is a plain of a half to a mile in width between the river and the range to the South, commencing at Taylor's Hill, half a mile above the city, and widening as it diverges from the river below, terminating in a broken plateau down near Hamilton's Crossing. The highlands on the opposite side come rather precipitous to the water's edge. Along the banks, on either side, were rifle pits, in which were kept from three to five pickets, and on our side a brigade was stationed night and day in the city as a support to the videttes guarding the river front. These pickets were directed to prevent a crossing at all hazards until the troops at camp in the rear were all in position in front of Fredericksburg. Stuart, with the body of his cavalry, guarded the river and country on our right below Jackson, while Hampton kept a lookout at the crossings above on the left of Longstreet.
On the morning of the 11th, at 3 o'clock, when all was still and the soldiers fast asleep, they were rudely aroused from their slumbers [178] by the deep boom of a cannon away to the front and across the river. Scarcely had the sound of the first gun died away than another report thundered out on the stillness of that December night, its echo reverberating from hill to hill and down along the river side. These sounds were too ominous to be mistaken; they were the signal guns that were to put in motion these two mighty armies. "Fall in" was the word given, and repeated from hill to hill and camp to camp. Drums beat the long roll at every camp, while far below and above the blast of the bugle called the troopers to "boots and saddle." Couriers dashed headlong in the sombre darkness from one General's headquarters to another's. Adjutants' and Colonels' orderlies were rushing from tent to tent, arousing the officers and men to arms, and giving instructions for the move.
I can remember well the sharp, distant voice of Adjutant Y.J. Pope on that morning, coming down the line of the officers' tents and calling out to each as he came opposite: "Captain ——, get your company ready to move at once."