Reminiscencies of a Confederate soldier of Co. C, 2nd Va. Cavalry

by Rufus H. Peck

As we had no drilling or fighting to do we had a good time. We had to keep up picket duty, was about all, except our cooking, chopping wood and taking care of our horses. One day, while here, a moonshiner came into camp and was arrested. We had orders to put a middle-aged man and one that could be trusted to guard. The Orderly Sergeant appointed Ballard McClaugherty, a middle-aged man, alright, but it seems that Ballard had seen the fellow too often and knew too much about him; but the Orderly didn’t know that, of course. The days of prophets and judges were over, but we still had men to prophesy, at times. Well, I for one, prophesied that the moonshiner would get away that night. After roll-call and taps were sounded and everybody had gone to bed, we were suddenly awakened by the firing of a rifle and some one yelling “Halt! halt! you d—— moonshiner,” and then a pistol fired three times. He then yelled “Corporal of the guard, post No. 1.” The Corporal, hurrying to the scene, said, “What’s wrong at post No. 1?” McC.’s bed-fellow, Jack Driskel, said, “Why, Mc.’s moonshiner has gotten away.” “Well, where did he go?” said the Corporal. “Oh, he’s gone hellwards, like hell beating tan-bark,” said Driskel. We never heard of him again at camp, but I think some of the boys saw him right often on the sly.

Everything moved on quietly until about the middle of March, when we were ordered back to Richmond. Early was being pressed pretty closely in the valley and we expected to be sent on there, but as Grant was preparing for movement, we were held to help protect Richmond for a couple of weeks. As soon as we got to Richmond, Gen. Lee issued an order that any one who had served the four years in the war and wanted to go home to be married, would be granted a ten days’ furlough. These men could take any of the broken-down horses from the company and bring back good ones. Two men from each company was all that would be allowed to go at one time. They left and others put in applications for furloughs, but before the first boys got back Grant kept us so busy that no one could leave. We left Richmond for Five Forks, arriving there one Friday eve.

The next day, Sheridan made a charge on our infantry and killed and captured a great many. We were ordered to re-inforce and protect the infantry and we drove the enemy back a considerable distance. As we fell back to our line, a skirmish line was formed, so we could pass over a wider scope and see if there were any wounded that we could help. I came across a splendid looking fellow, who didn’t look to be more than 15 years old, lying across a large clump of rock lillies. His head and feet were on the ground, but his body was up on the lillies. I jumped from my horse, thinking he was only stunned, but found he was dead. I never see the beautiful waxy bloom of the rock lily, that I don’t think of the fate of that fine looking boy, almost a child. I laid him flat on the ground, but could do no more.

We overtook the 57th Va. Regiment of infantry as they were going back to the breastworks. My brother-in-law, Lieut. John Dill, told me that they had suffered a great lost, but not near so great as at Gettysburg. He said that before we got there to re-inforce them, that Gen. Picket had ordered them to cross the breastworks and drive Sheridan’s cavalry back. They succeeded in driving them a short distance, but Sheridan re-inforced his men and drove the infantry back with considerable slaughter, but when he found we were reinforcing the infantry, his men began to fall back, also. We went into camp just back of the roads. The place took its name from the five roads leading from that point. Everything was quiet Sunday morning, until after twelve o’clock. I visited around among the Botetourt boys in the infantry during the time, and after dinner the pickets came in and said the enemy was advancing, and I looked and saw the enemy advancing in a few minutes, in five columns one right after the other. I’d left my horse just behind the breastworks and I ran back and got her. We had orders to fall into line and for No. 3 to hold horses and to dismount. It fell to my lot to hold horses, but the man next to me wasn’t a good runner, and I would rather go into the battle and he said he had rather hold horses, so we just exchanged places and I went on with the Co. We formed into line again and counted off with fours as No. 3 had dropped out to hold horses. Capt. James B. walked right down in front of us and asked for me, and some one told him I was right in the front. He came to me and said I thought you were out of ranks, I want to get your rifle and you go back and get your horse and bring up ammunition. Guggenheimer isn’t here, so you bring it. By the time I got about 300 yds. from the men of my Co., the firing had commenced. Just then I met Gen. Picket and his staff, and he asked me, what was advancing. I told him it was infantry. He said: “how strong?” I told him I had seen five lines in succession and I didn’t know what was behind them, of course. He immediately wrote a dispatch and gave it to a courier and sent it to the next officer in command. He sent a part of his staff with the courier. He turned back and went on just in front of me across Hatchers Run. I could hear the firing all the time. It was terrific. There was a man with me from Co. K. and we had some little trouble in finding the ordinance wagon but were not gone longer than an hour. When we started back with the ammunition, I saw that our forces were retreating. I soon came up to the infantry, artillery and the whole army, retreating toward Lynchburg. They told me that they had lost heavily. The enemy rushed right up and took the breastworks, capturing a good portion of the 11th regiment of infantry. Just about the time the infantry began to give away Capt. Jas. Breckinridge was killed. Poor brave fellow. He had taken my rifle and sent me out of the battle, when I had gone in after being drawn off to hold horses. After his death Lieut. Hayth was appointed. Capt. Grant’s army was then advancing on all the roads and we were trying to defend on the same. We traveled on until about nightfall, when Sheridan’s cavalry attacked our wagon train and at first we repulsed them, but they were too strong for us and they succeeded in capturing some of our wagons and men. We of the 2nd Va. cavalry were guarding the wagon train and several of our men were killed. Capt. Strother of the 4th regiment was with us and he went back to see if any of our men were left that we could help and to see if the enemy was following. He didn’t come back for some time and we called to him and the enemy had captured him and answered: “Here is your Capt. Strother; come down and get him.” We kept marching in the night, without food for ourselves or horses. When day broke when we could have maybe found a little provisions, the enemy was pressing on so that we had to continue marching. Gen. R. E. Lee had ordered a lot of provisions to be sent to Amelia Springs and as we did not get there when the train arrived, it was sent back, so our nearest source of supplies was at Lynchburg, which was a long way off.

The next day the wagon train was attacked by a lot of colored cavalry, but we succeeded in driving them off. I went into a stable to get some feed for my horse and in getting the hay, found a black man shot in the mouth, but not dead. I told the people of the house, to tell the Yankees when they passed to care for him, that we couldn’t. The horses were so worn out, not having food or rest, that they could hardly pull what few wagons we had left. Some of the wagons were loaded with a lot of books, statistics of the war, etc., and we came across such a muddy place, that the horses couldn’t get the wagons through, so we threw a lot of the books in, but that wouldn’t fill up the hole so we could cross. There were no rails or timber near, so some of the men shot some of the poor old worn out horses and dragged them into the mud hole and then drove the teams and wagons across on their bodies. I couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. I would have left the old wagons stand there forever, and turned the horses loose, first. I knew, and the majority of us had known for sometime, that we were whipped and the sooner we would surrender the more lives would be saved and the less we’d have to suffer.

The next day the enemy pressed us closely at Wilson’s Creek, and Gen. Pickett’s few men that were left, tried to hold the position, but nearly all of them were captured. We were all engaged in the fight, but not a great many were killed. That night, I saw Col. Munford, who was commanding Gen. Wickham’s brigade, and his staff officers, stopping at a farm house to get supper, and we had orders to stop, also. I had noticed a double crib with some corn in it, and there was a “provost guard” guarding the crib. We tried to get him to let us have some corn for our horses, but he wouldn’t. I told him the next day the Yankees would come and take it all and we had just as well have it. He had a gun and I noticed he would let loose of the gun every few minutes and put his hands in his bosom, as it was very cold. I just went away and sharpened a tobacco stick and slipped his gun away and set the tobacco stick by, instead. I hid the gun and then eight of us went up and told him we wanted the corn. We had asked him two or three times, but got the same reply each time. We told him we were going to take it now, no matter what he said, and started into the crib. He reached for his gun, as he supposed, and raised it at us, when he found he had nothing but a tobacco stick. I said: “Now you see you’ve let some one steal your gun, so we’ll get the corn.” He just had to laugh and let us take it. We got about 8 bushels and divided it out as far as it would go. That was the first good, full feed my horse had had since we left Carolina Co., a week or ten days before.

Every few hours a courier would come with orders for us to ride back a few miles to protect the rear and then we would have to come back and rush to the front or on ahead for some purpose. We surely had a hard time then and so little food or rest; none practically, you might say, and then we had that feeling of working with no prospect for better times. We didn’t get any food for ourselves again that night, but was glad to get corn for the horses, as they had a worse time yet, than we.

The next morning, after marching all night, Capt. Trent, our regimental quarter-master, sent me on ahead of the army about thirty miles, to a Mr. Gill’s farm. He told me to go to a farm house on the right hand road and get breakfast and my horse fed, which I did, and then take a road parallel to the road the army was moving on.

I got there about night and told Mr. Gill the circumstances. He had been getting the tenth part of all the crops and provisions in that section of the county and sending it to the army. So Capt. Trent sent me ahead, thinking he might probably have something for the starving men and horses. He said he had sent everything he could get to the army and could only feed me and my horse. He told me that men had been passing for three days and nights and he thought the whole thing was over and the soldiers going home. I told him who I’d left just behind and how we’d been fighting and marching day and night and what hardships we had undergone. He had me to register and stay all night with him, of course. I knew the army couldn’t get there before the next day, even if the enemy didn’t attack them, for we were a poor, wornout set of men and horses, and moved very slowly. The next morning we went out to the road and the stragglers were still passing. These were men going on home. After awhile our men came on and when they found Mr. Gill had no provisions, we just had to go on until night. The enemy was not pressing so we lay down to sleep, but didn’t get to sleep long, for orders came in the night for us to move on.

We went slowly, and at daybreak we were ordered to dismount and went down a little slope and found a lot of Yankee infantry guarding the Farmville Bridge. We fired on them and they on us, but we soon captured Gen. Curtiss and his whole brigade. The infantry, at first, ran and left a lot of knapsacks, and we ransacked them to find something to eat, but found nothing. General Curtiss surrendered without much resistance, so not a great many were killed. We left a young fellow by the name of William Fields at Sailor’s Creek dead, as we thought, and at Farmville we lost another fellow, Luck, and I never knew anything of either of them again until the summer of 1911, when I met both at a reunion at New Port News.