4. IV.
INCIDENTS ON THE PENINSULA.
Having given me the history of his adventures at Langly
and in Washington, Captain Darrell yawned, and persisted in
changing the subject. It was evident that he had made up his
mind not to talk any more at that time upon military matters;
and we accordingly passed to other topics.
He was here again yesterday, however, and I immediately
attacked him on the subject of his adventures.
He shook his head.
“You are making me talk too much about myself,” said the
Captain, “and I will get up the reputation of a boaster. One
of the greatest dangers with hunters, partisans, and scouts, is the
temptation to exaggerate, and tell `good stories.' All that I
say is true, and scouting with me is no more than hunting—as
if it were after bear or deer—and I speak of it as such. But I
don't wish to be thought a boaster.”
It was some time before I could eradicate from the Captain's
mind the impression that his histories were listened to with sentiments
of cynical doubt. He yielded very gradually—thawing
very slowly before the warmth of my assurances; but at last I
succeeded in quieting his scruples, and getting him in a talkative
humour. One thing led to another; this incident brought forth
that; and finally the Captain was persuaded to give me the following
story of his adventures at Williamsburg.
As before, I give the narrative almost exactly in the words of
the speaker. It was as follows:
“I might as well commence at the beginning. On the retreat
from Yorktown, last spring, when our army was falling back to
the Chickhominy, I was with General Stuart, and the cavalry
were retiring by the Telegraph and Williamsburg roads, covering
our rear. These two roads make a sort of triangle; like the
two sides of the letter V, the point of the V being down the
Peninsula. The Williamsburg road was the left side of the V
—look at these two straws—and the Telegraph road the other.
There were two by-roads running through the triangle and connecting
the main roads. If you have a clear idea of this, you
will understand what took place easily.
“The cavalry were falling back in two columns upon the
Telegraph and Williamsburg roads, General Stuart being in
command of the force on the latter. He was anxious to keep
up thorough communications with the other column, however,
and as I was familiar with every part of that country, he sent
me with Captain Conner, of the Jeff. Davis Legion, who was
ordered to cut across with a party, leave pickets at openings, and
see that the cavalry on the Telegraph road fell back regularly in
good order—parallel with the other column, and neither too fast
nor too slow. Well, I proceeded with Captain Conner along
the sort of bridle path which was the lowest down of the two
which I have mentioned, as connecting the main roads, keeping
a keen look-out for the enemy, who, I was pretty sure, were all
around us. The pines were too thick to see much, however—
you know what sort of a country it is—and we went on rather
blindly. About half way we met a countryman who was leading
a cow by the horns, and he told us that a party of the
enemy's cavalry had just passed along the other cross road
above toward the Williamsburg road.
“It occurred to me at once that our men on the Telegraph
road had fallen back more rapidly than the other column, and
unmasked the mouth of the upper cross road, which the enemy
had then struck into, intending to get into the Williamsburg
road and cut the General off. I stated my opinion to Captain
Conner, but he seemed to think differently. The cavalry which
the countryman had seen could not possibly be any but our
own, he said. I stuck to it, however, that they were probably
the enemy's; and as the countryman told us they were then
drawn up on the cross road, I offered to go and reconnoitre.
Captain Conner said he would go with me, and we started off at
a gallop through the pines toward the spot where the man said
they were.
“When I got within fifty yards I could see a party of cavalry
drawn up, as the countryman stated, and I was sure they were
Yankees. Captain Conner still adhered to his opinion, however,
that they were a part of our own force, and I told him I would
dismount, creep up, and determine the matter. He agreed; and
I got off my horse, threw the bridle over a stump, and crept
through the pine brush until I was within fifteen feet of them.
I saw the blue pantaloons and jackets plainly, and knew they
were Federals; so I crept back toward my horse. At the same
moment—it all occurred in a twinkling—I heard, `Halt! halt!
halt! halt! bang! bang! bang!' in front, and saw Captain
Conner, who had pushed on, certain that they were Confederates,
taken prisoner by the enemy. I had mounted, and the first
thing I knew I was in the midst of them—carried by my horse,
who became ungovernable—and I saw that my best chance
would be to make straight for the Williamsburg road, which was
not far, and if I got out, inform the General that a party was
lying in wait for him. I ran through them, followed by bang!
bang! bang! from their carbines, and drove ahead into the Williamsburg
road—right plump against a column of the enemy's
cavalry, drawn up to charge the General, when he came near
enough. My horse ran right against a Yankee's, who wiped at
me with his sabre—for they all had their sabres drawn—and
just missed me. I was going so fast though that I passed straight
through the column, and seeing that the other side of the road
was lined with heavy undergrowth, I jumped off my horse and
ran in, leaving my horse to the Yankees.
“They banged away at me as I went in, but only a few had
their carbines ready, and they did not come near me. They
could not follow me, as the pines were too thick for any horseman
to enter. My object now was to get back to the General
and tell him of the attempt to cut him off. I thought I would
reconnoitre, however, first, and ascertain their force, so I crept
up to the edge of the bushes, and looked out. As I did so, I
saw them moving backwards and forwards, greatly excited,
with `Here they are!' `Look out!' but soon afterwards they
fell back, apparently looking for a better position. The next
thing I saw was Colonel Goode, of the Third Cavalry, coming
up the road, and I ran out and met him, felling him what I
knew, and stating that they were going to charge him. He
drew his men up on the right of the road so as to let the Yankees
charge by, and slash into them; and as I had no horse I
got into the bushes just in advance of the head of the column,
intending to shoot the commander of the Federal cavalry as soon
as I could see him well. I had my carbine and pistol, which I
had hung on to through all, and soon I heard the enemy coming,
shouting and yelling, right down on Colonel Goode.
“As they came within about fifteen yards, I levelled my carbine
at the officer in front, and pulled trigger; but the cursed thing
snapped. I had been skirmishing all day, and it had got dirty.
I fired my pistol into them, however, and the Federal Cavalry
halted, both sides sitting in the saddle and banging away with
earbines. Our men had the better of it, though, as the Yankees had
their sabres drawn, and we got the first fire on them, killing
several of them, I saw in the road afterwards. I wounded three
or four myself, and was still popping at them when they concluded
to give it up, and go back. They turned round, and I
ran out, looking for a good horse, as several were running about
without riders. I got a good one, but found he was wounded,
and just then I saw a splendid black stallion, who took my eye
wonderfully. I tried to catch him—walking up and holloing
`woe!' to him—but whenever I got near, he trotted off, and I
missed him. I determined not to give it up, however—and I
kept following and trying to catch him until I was at least a mile
and a half back toward Williamsburg. I caught him at last,
mounted him, and started back toward the scene of the skirmish.
I remember feeling in fine spirits, and looking down at my
splendid stallion, who was full of fire and spirit—a big black fellow,
the very horse I wanted—admiring his neck and action. I
was still examining him, with my head down, as we went on at full
speed toward the spot where I expected to find Colonel Goode,
when suddenly I heard a quick `Halt! halt! halt!' `Here's
one of `em!' in front; and a carbine ball whizzed by me. I
looked up, and there was the enemy in the road instead of Colonel
Goode, who had fallen back. They had got reinforcements, and
brought up artillery to plant in the road—and I had run right
into them!
“There was only one thing for me to do, and that was to get
away from there as fast as possible. I accordingly wheeled round
and went back over the same road I had come, followed by a
dozen men, shouting `halt! halt! halt!' and firing at me. I
leaned over on my horse, and could hear the balls whizzing by me
every second—I afterwards found the accountrements, especially
the thick bundle behind the saddle, full of bullet holes. I would
have got away from them, but all at once my horse threw up his
head—a ball had passed clean through it. He still kept on,
however,—horses will go long with that sort of wound—but
another bullet struck him right behind my leg, on the left side,
and I felt him staggering. The party saw this, and set up a
whoop, which was rather too near. I saw that they would catch
me, if I depended on my horse, so I threw myself off and ran
down a little path in the bushes, by the side of the road, and did
not stop until I was well concealed. They fired at me and
around several times, but as they were afraid of coming on
our infantry, they gave it up, and rode away.
“As soon as they were gone I came out of the bushes, and
went to my horse. He had fallen in the road, and I took from
him several articles strapped to the saddle, and left him to die.
“I knew now that the General would retire by the Beach
road, the only one left, and I determined to strike across and join
him, trusting to luck to get a horse somewhere. I accordingly
set out in that direction, trusting to my skill to flank the enemy's
pickets, which I knew I could do, and get through. My only
fear was that I would be shot by our own pickets, as it was now
getting dusk. I went on, through the woods and fields, avoiding
the enemy's fires whenever I saw them, and approaching our
lines. I had got very nearly through, when suddenly I came
upon three cavalrymen in the middle of the road, near a little
bridge I had to pass. I was sure they were Yankees, so I cocked
my pistol, and walked up to them boldly, saying in a loud commonplace
tone—
“ `Hem!—ah!—what company do you belong to, men?'
“ `Company A, sir.'
“This was not sufficient. Company A might be a Yankee company.
So I said,
“ `What regiment?'
“ `The Fourth.'
“This was no more definite than the other.
“ `Ah!' I said, `ahem—the Fourth, eh? Fourth New York,
I suppose?'
“ `No—the Fourth Virginia,' replied one of the men. I never
was more relieved in my life, and told them how things stood, and
which way to look out. I went on through the awful mud, and
when I had gone some distance met a regiment of Confederate
infantry coming down, with an officer on horseback at their
head, who was very much out of humour.
“ `Where is the post?' he was saying. `I don't believe it is this
way, and we must have come in the wrong direction. Where
is the regiment to be relieved?'
“I recognised General Pryor, and said:
“ `I can tell you, General.'
“ `Hello! who's that!' he replied, looking through the dark,
`how did you know me?'
“ `By your voice. I remember meeting you at the Commercial
Convention in Knoxville, to which I was a delegate—and making
your acquaintance.'
“ `What is your name, sir?'
“I told him, and added,
“ `The regiment you are looking for is down in the fortifications,
in that direction; and though it will be going back, I will
act as your guide.'
“So I went with him, and finding some friends in the Nineteenth
Mississippi, commanded by Colonel Mott, a friend of mine,
I lay down, and went to sleep.
“On the next morning, I was still talking with my friends of
the Nineteenth, when chancing to look toward the front, I saw a
line of men advancing through the brushwood, who, I was certain,
were Yankees. It was drizzling, and no attack was expected,
though we knew that the enemy was right in our front;
and when I told the Lieutenant, in command of the company
I was with, that the men in front were certainly Yankees, he did
not believe it.
“ `They can't be,' he said; `they are a party of our own men
who have been out on a scout toward the enemy, and are coning
in.'
“As he was speaking, the line came on steadily, and I saw
distinctly the blue pantaloons, and oil-cloth capes thrown over
their heads as a protection from the rain. I knew from this
that it was the enemy, as none of our men had capes; and I
jumped up, carying to the men:
“ `They are Yankees! Fire, men! They are right on you!'
“ `Hold your fire!' shonted the Lieutenant, `don't shoot your
friends! It is some of the Seventh Alabama from our left.'
“ `There are no troops on our left!' I replied, `the Seventh
Alabama is on the right, and those people are Yankees! Fire,
men!'
“And I ran out pointing at them where they were advancing,
within twenty yards, in the pines.
“ `Don't fire, I say!' shouted the Lieutenant to his men, `they
are friends!'
“Well, I'll take the responsibility, as far as I am concerned!'
I said; and levelling my carbine I took aim, and saw one of
the men fall. As soon as I shot, the whole party stopped suddenly,
as though they were astonished.
“ `Fire!' I cried to the Mississippians, `give it to' em, boys!'
Charge!'
“And I blazed away with my pistol as I ran toward them.
They did not wait for the expected charge—it turned out to be
only a company—and broke and ran. I followed, and came to
the man I had shot, who was dying. His gun was lying by
him, and I seized it, and fired on them as they were running;
but finding no one following me, I concluded I had better go
back. When I got to the fortification I found Colouel Mott
there, attracted by the firing; and showed him the gun I had
brought back, telling him that they were Yankees.
“ `Certainly they were,' he replied, `and the Lieutenant in
command ought to have known that there were none of our
troops on the left.'
“As I had nothing to do, I proposed to the Colonel that if
he would give me half-a-dozen men I would go and scout in
front, and bring him any information I could procure of the
enemy's movements. He agreed to this, and called for volunteers.
A dozen men stepped out, but I told him I did not want
more than six; and with these, I went along in the track of the
party of Yankees. I remember one of them was named Bryant,
a first-rate man, and he stuck to me all day, though he was
wounded; but he would not leave me.
“Well, I followed the party, marching the men in single file,
and looking out every moment for the Yankees. I came on
their trail at last, and thought I could hear the hum of their
voices just over a knoll in front of me. The woods there have
hollows in them, and you can get very close to a party of men
without knowing it if they are in one of them. There was a
hollow of this sort just before me, and the hill sloped up in such
a way, that you could get right on them and not be perceived.
I crept up the side of the hill, going from tree to tree, looking
and listening. I could not see anybody, but I was sure I heard
the hum of voices not far off; and I determined to reconnoitre
and ascertain who the party were. I accordingly went cautiously
up the hill, to peep over, leaving my men behind.
“Just as I got near the top I heard the tramp of feet, and
could see the heads of the men coming up the hill. The officer
in command was walking in front, and before I knew it he was
right on me, within three yards.
“ `Dress up to the right!' he cried quickly to his men.
“ `Dress up, yourself, sir!' I shouted to him, suddenly.
“And as I spoke, I levelled my carbine at his breast, fired,
and shot him through the body. Before the enemy had recovered
from their surprise, I shouted back, as if I was speaking to
my company:
“ `Charge 'em, men! Fire on 'em! Char-r-rge!'
“And I set the example by firing my pistol as fast as I could
at their heads, which was all I could see above the hill. They
fired a volley at me, but their position was too unfavourable,
and the bullets went whizzing high up in the trees. My men
came up promptly, and we all took trees and commenced skirmishing
with them, neither side advancing, but keeping up a
scattering fire all the time.
“The captain, when I had shot him, sat down on the ground,
and remained there leaning his shoulder against the trunk of a
tree. The tree I had dodged behind was not far off, and we
carried on a conversation for some time; I suppose about half
an hour. I asked him why he had come down to the South,
and he said he wished now that he had stayed at home. He said
a good many things, but I don't remember them now. His
name was a singular one; he told me what it was, and I've got it
somewhere; his company was the 47th Sharpshooters, New York.
“I had shot away all my ammunition, and I got up and went
to him, asking him for his pistol. He took hold of the belt, and
tried to unbuckle it, but was too weak.
“ `It's no use,' he said, `I can't undo it, and you had better
go back. You will just make them shoot both of us.'
“He did not look as if he was shot; I could see no marks of a
wound; but soon after I had gone back to my tree, he raised his
shoulder from the trunk which he was leaning against, sat upright,
and then fell upon his back, dead.
“About this time there was a general advance of our line
upon the enemy, all along; and the company of sharpshooters
fell back, firing as they went. Our troops came along, and charged
their main line, which was posted behind a fence, some distance
in front; and here Colonel Mott was killed as he was leading
the charge. I went along with them, but had first gotten the
dead officer's sword. As soon as our men advanced, and the
enemy went away, I came from behind the tree where I had
been sitting down firing, and approached the body. He was
lying on his back, with his eyes open—dead from my bullet,
which had passed through his breast. I had no sword, having
left mine behind that morning; so I unbuckled his belt, and
drew it from under his body, and buckled it around my own
waist. It had a good pistol and cap-pouch, besides the sword,
on it—I have the sword still.
“That was a hot day,” concluded the Captain; “this was
where Tom—got wounded. He came up to a Federal officer,
a finely dressed fellow, and ordered him to surrender. He
obeyed, but made no motion to yield his arms. Tom said:
“ `Give up your arms, sir!'
“The officer handed over his sword which he held in his
hand; but did not seem to remember the pistol in his belt.
“ `Give me your pistol!' exclaimed Tom, with a scowl at
him.
“ `I have surrendered my sword,' was the reply, `spare me
the disgrace, sir, of giving up my pistol also to a private!'
“He had surrendered his sword, but wished to spare himself
the mortification of handing over his pistol! Tom put his bayonet
at him, and he soon surrendered his pistol.
“Soon afterwards Tom had a duel at ten yards distance, with
a Yankee. They loaded and fired twenty times without hitting
each other, until Tom made a good shot and bored him through
the breast. He dropped his musket, threw up his hands and
fell back. Tom was very soon wounded, however, and was
firing still when Colonel Baldwin came along with a led horse,
and, as he knew him, put him on it. He was going to the rear
when he saw General A. P. Hill, sitting by a stump, smoking;
and as the young man was an acquaintance, he asked him what
was the matter. He informed him that he was wounded; and
the General took off his cravat, and tied it around his leg, above
the wound. Tom then rode on into Williamsburg.
“That was my great fighting day, and some time or other I
will tell you all about it. I had command of two or three regiments,
and never had more fun in my life.”
