CHAPTER XXIX.
THE WAVE ROLLS BACK.
Confederates retreat from Gettysburg—The Federals pursue—Crossing the Potomac under Difficulties—Kilpatrick’s Cavalry Dash on Pettigrew’s Command—General Lee thought to rest his Army in the Valley of Virginia, but Meade followed too fast—Engagements that harassed the Retreat—General Lee wished to be relieved of Command, but President Davis would not consent to the Appointment of Joseph E. Johnston or General Beauregard.
The armies rested on the “Fourth,”—one under the bright laurels secured by the brave work of the day before, but in profound sorrow over the silent forms of the host of comrades who had fallen during those three fateful days, whose blood bathed the thirsty fields of Gettysburg, made classic by the most stupendous clash of conflict of that long and sanguinary war; while gentle rain came to mellow the sod that marked the honored rest of friend and foe; the other, with broken spirits, turned from fallen comrades to find safety away from the fields that had been so promising of ennobling fruits. The enemy had cast his lines on grounds too strong for lead and steel, and, exhausted alike of aggressive force and means of protracted defence, there was nothing left for the vanquished but to march for distant homeward lines.
The cavalry left on the Blue Ridge joined the Confederate left late on the afternoon of the 3d. Orders for retreat were issued before noon of the 4th, and trains of wounded and other impedimenta were put in motion by the Chambersburg and Fairfield routes, the army to march after night by the latter,—the Second Corps as rear-guard, the First to follow the Third and push on to secure the crossings of the Potomac at Williamsport and Falling Waters. It was daylight of the 5th when the road was open for the march of the First, and a later hour of the morning before the Second could follow.
Pursuit was made by the enemy, led by cavalry and the Sixth Corps, and the rear-guard had to deploy near Fairfield to check it. Rain was helping us. Before the enemy could get through the mud and push his batteries over the boggy fields, our trains had reached the mountain gorge, and the rear-guard was on the march following. Direct pursuit of the solid ranks was changed to march down the east of the mountains, but the firmer broad road gave the Confederates easier march. Kilpatrick got his cavalry in on the wagon-trains and destroyed a number, but did not delay the march of the column.
On this retreat the army, already crippled of its pride, was met by the dispiriting news of another defeat at Vicksburg, which meant that the Mississippi was free to the Federals from its source to the Gulf. Diverting incidents occurred, but we were in poor mood for them. As we approached Hagerstown, two grotesque figures stepped into the road about a hundred yards in front of us,—one a negro of six feet and a hundred and eighty pounds, the other a white man of about five feet seven. The negro was dressed in full uniform of the Union infantry, the white man in travel-stained butternut dry-goods. The negro had a musket on his shoulder. Riding up to them, it was observed that the musket was at the cock-notch. The negro was reminded that it was unsoldier-like to have the gun at a cock, but said that he wanted to be ready to save and deliver his prisoner to the guard; it was his proudest capture during the march, and he wanted credit for it. The man was a recruit lately from abroad, and did not seem to care whether or not he was with his comrades. However, there were doubts if he understood a word that was said. The uniform was a tight fit, and the shoes were evidently painful, but the black man said that he could exchange them. He was probably the only man of the army who had a proud story to take home.
The Union cavalry came severely upon our left flank at Hagerstown, forcing Stuart to call for infantry support. Parts of Semmes’s and G. T. Anderson’s brigades were sent, crossed the Antietam, and had uncomfortable experience with the horse artillery near Funkstown. They had dire complaints to make of the way cavalrymen put them in columns of fours against batteries, when they could have advanced more rapidly and effectively in line of battle and saved half of their men lost.