The men had to march very nearly two miles in the retreat, in full view of the enemy’s artillery, before they reached the timber, which served as a protection. If Heath had brought his men up as Pickett expected, it would only have caused a heavier slaughter, because I saw the tents of a number of lines of battle the next day, that the regulars told us were right there to support the breastworks, that Pickett couldn’t see when he was making the charge. He never could have held the position, against such heavy forces.
We went right over the summit of Cemetery Ridge, by the Peach Orchard and High Water Mark. It was all a dismal sight as it was raining steadily until about 12 o’clock, but the work of caring for the wounded and burying the dead was being carried on as rapidly as it was possible. The regulars took us on to our outpost and we bade them farewell, never to meet again. Major Mason knew some of the men personally, so we enjoyed their kindness very much. Major Mason took us back to Lee’s headquarters and Gen. Lee released us and sent us on back to our command.
In going back to our command, we passed by the remnant of Pickett’s gallant division. It didn’t look to be more than a regiment. The first man I recognized was my brother-in-law, Lieut. John Dill, who is still living. I asked him how many they had lost and his reply was: “We have lost all.” He got in sight of the breastworks, he said, before they had to retreat. He was wounded by the explosion of a shell.
As all of the Botetourt Infantry was in Pickett’s division, I soon found other men that I knew. The men of the Fincastle Rifles had the same sad story to tell, of the dreadful loss of their comrades. The descendants of the Botetourt Infantrymen can always be proud of the charge their ancestors made and glad they did not see the disconsolate, depressed remnant I saw that morning after the battle. It was the saddest sight, I think, I ever witnessed. You know the missing men were from my own county, and so many were my acquaintances. I talked to some of the gallant men of the Blue Ridge Rifles, Buchanan Rifles, also some of the men who composed Capt. Gilmer Breckinridge’s company, then commanded by Capt. Kelly.
Capt. Breckinridge raised this Co. at the beginning of the war and his father furnished uniforms for the men. Some of the men of Capt. Spessard’s Co. of Craig Co., told me of Nat Wilson’s death. He was killed just as he crossed the breastworks. He was raised in Fincastle and was one of my schoolmates.
We reached our command on the evening of the 4th. I found the regiment had lost heavily, but our company had not suffered so much. Six of our Co., beside myself, that only numbered 64, when we went to Gettysburg, were sent out on this lookout expedition. The most gloomy time of my life, I think, was from that eve until we started back to Va. the next day. Lee was whipped, but unconquered. Meade was slow in following us up.
The infantry and artillery moved in front and the extreme rear, was brought up by the cavalry, as usual.
The business of the cavalry was to fortify behind us and protect our men in front. We took wheat shocks and piled them up high and threw dirt on them and when the advance guards of the enemy would see our fortifications, they would slack in their movements. They would bring up their artillery and open fire on us often and we would retreat to other fortifications built by cavalry ahead of us and so on. Sometimes we would have to stop in the open field and fight the enemy. Sam Riley was killed in one of these engagements, while we were still in Penn.
George Hayth, “Flud” we all called him, was mortally wounded near Boonesboro and died at Winchester, about ten days later. Alonzo Rineheart was shot through the hand at the same time “Flud” was wounded, in one of these encounters, trying to drive the enemy back.
We struck the Potomac near Williamsport and learned there that our wagon train had been captured and about 15 men from my Co. were captured, also. They were acting as guards for the wagon train.