The argument was unanswerable, and Shellman subsided, “As we have no commissary to plase the gintleman—and I’m blasted if I am much plased meself—I would suggest we went skrimmigen.”
The command responded aye unanimously, and, rolling up our blankets, we prepared to move. Resuming our march, we soon came to a neat, substantial looking farm house, where it was determined an effort should be made to procure breakfast at any price in Confederate currency. We crossed the fence and approached the house. Our commander was to be the spokesman, but just as he was about to apply his knuckles to the stout oaken door, the clatter of horses feet was heard, and to our no little surprise General Lee and staff galloped up.
“The brigade will retrate and rally on me, being it’s in the presence of superior numbers, for by Saint Patrick, for all the Confideracy, I wouldn’t have Gineral Lee see me besage a lone counthry house without his orthers,” was the command of our brigadier.
The “retrate” was conducted in good “orther,” and the forces assembled upon the commandant some two hundred yards distant. Here, after a short consultation, we concluded to make another essay upon a house close at hand. As we neared the premises the prospect of success seemed discouraging enough, for some twenty cavalry horses were tied to the pailings, and experience had taught us their riders were close by. Judge then of my surprise, when upon inquiring for the proprietress of the house I was confronted by an old and dear acquaintance, Mrs. Hamilton, of Loudon county, and now, at this writing, residing at Chantilly, on the Little River turnpike. ’Tis needless to say the party were made welcome, and in a few minutes we were seated around a bountifully supplied table, laughing and chatting merrily, the vexation of our former disappointment forgotten. A quiet smoke followed, when we prepared to part with this most estimable family with unfeigned regret. The dear old lady of the house, with tears in her eyes, bid us farewell, and her last words were, “Should anything happen to yourself or comrades, don’t forget my house.” I little thought but forty-eight hours would elapse ere I was once more her guest, but under vastly different circumstances. But of that anon.
As we passed through Thoroughfare Gap there were evidences on all sides of a stubborn fight, and I could not help being struck with the vital importance of possessing the place. It seemed almost a Thermopylæ, and it astonished me that it was not defended by a larger force of the enemy. Had General Lee been delayed here forty-eight hours we would have lost Jackson and his command, and the remainder of the army would have been compelled to recross the Rappahannock. How imminent the peril! But the masterly generalship of the peerless Lee averted it, and the flanking columns across the mountains soon removed every obstacle. But no time was to be lost, for already we had been delayed too long; and the incessant peals of artillery in our front plainly told us Jackson was sorely pressed, and needed our assistance.
How little the General whose “headquarters were in the saddle,” knew his advantage; for he had it within his power to have annihilated the Confederate army. But if we are to believe his own report, and the account of his “Man Friday,” (“Personal recollection,” in that vilest of periodicals—Harper,) the illustrious Pope had too many generals in the field, and too many masters in Washington. The “lamented” would telegraph “do this;” Halleck would say “do that;” Fitz John Porter would do nothing; McClellan sent the commissary wagons to Washington, and it was but natural the hungry troops should seek their rations there—all of which, combined “unsaddled” poor Pope, and placed McClellan in his stead.
More than once that night, as General Lee paced his room, he was heard to mutter: “The Gap must be forced at any sacrifice. On the success of this movement depends everything. General Jackson must be hard pressed; but he will hold out, or I do not know my man. Twenty-four hours behind my promise to him; forty-eight hours would result in his destruction.”
Friday, the 29th day of August, 1862, was a hot, sultry day, and the corps of Longstreet, already wearied and broken down by excessive marching, dragged itself along with difficulty. Had it not been for the stimulus afforded by the roar of Jackson’s artillery the ten long miles from Thoroughfare Gap would have consumed much more time, and there would have been many more stragglers. But steadily those veterans pressed on, and before noon the head of the column reached Haymarket, but a short distance from the scene of conflict. We here received the most encouraging accounts from Jackson. He was not only holding his ground, but had driven the enemy some distance before him. But nevertheless an expression of relief must have passed over that usually stern and placid face when he observed the clouds of dust that heralded the approach of the iron Longstreet.
Rapidly the different brigades and divisions were thrown into position, and by three o’clock the line of battle was complete. Longstreet held the right, joining Jackson near the Groveton turnpike, and about a mile from that village, where was stationed Hood with his Texans, Virginians and Mississippians. Being personally acquainted with the General, I suggested to Atkins that he proffer the services of the “brigade” to him, which was readily acceded to. That gallant, glorious, but subsequently unfortunate officer, received us most cordially, but regretted that for the present he could assign us to no other duty than that of firing a musket. Enfields were soon procured, and we took our place in the ranks of the Fourth Texas, a regiment that at the battle of Gaine’s Mills had won imperishable laurels.
In the woods to the left Jackson was hotly engaged. The musketry fire was terrific, and it seemed neither to advance nor recede. A curtain of smoke that hung over the tree-tops told us where the fighting was going on, but not a soul could be seen. For more than two hours this desperate struggle continued, when a soldier or two in blue emerged from the woods into the open plain, rushing frantically in the direction of the Federal reserves. Another and another followed, and presently a heavily column, torn and shattered, broke forth from the woods in wild confusion. A moment after, in close pursuit, a column in grey appeared, moving at the double-quick with the most beautiful precision, though subjected to the fire of a battery of artillery, which opened on them as soon as they appeared. But the glorious column never wavered. On, on, they pressed. The enemy was seeking protection behind the battery. It mattered not, they would take battery and infantry too; all the better. Oh! how it made my heart ache as I saw the great gaps rent by grape and canister as they pressed on in this desperate charge. But “forward” was the command, and “forward” they went. The battery is neared; no hesitation there; and in an instant it is enveloped by our grey jackets. A yell, a wild Confederate yell, announced the success of the charge, and in a moment we saw them retire with hundreds of prisoners and the captured battery.