Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 21.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

I have been very much interested in two articles which have recently appeared in your paper over the signatures of General James A. Walker and Colonel Thomas H. Carter, relating to the battle of the 12th of May, at Spotsylvania Courthouse. I feel some hesitancy in coming before the public after such men as the two abovemen-tioned, but as I feel that it is a duty we owe to our cause and ourselves to throw all the light we can upon so important an event, I will hazard a statement as to what followed the capture of Johnson's line. Being simply an old soldier and entirely unknown to you and the public, I will take the liberty of referring you to General James A. Walker himself as to my reliability. I have not the slightest doubt that had Colonel Carter's guns been in position, a very different story would have been told. I have seen the Colonel's boys handle their guns more than once, and I know he is making no idle boast. What I shall say is in substance what I have written in a series of sketches [245] under the title of ‘My Experience as a Sharpshooter, and Other War Sketches.’ I don't know of your rules, but I shall reserve the privilege of using this material in the way I have just mentioned.

During the operations around Spotsylvania Courthouse, General John B. Gordon had command of Evans' Georgia brigade and Pegram's Virginia brigade. As a member of the Thirteenth Virginia Infantry, I was attached to Pegram's brigade. We were in reserve. To be in reserve at a time like that implied two things—confidence upon the part of our commander, and hard work upon the part of the men. In neither case was there disappointment.

The evening of the 11th closed in dark and chilly. We were made more uncomfortable by the fact that orders came around for ‘no fires.’ So, rolling up in our oil cloths, we were soon dreaming, perhaps, that the ‘Cruel war was over.’ The gray dawn of the morning of the 12th found us standing at attention. Some time since I read an account of the battle of the 12th of May, written by a Northern officer. In this account he said that they were told that a blow would be struck which would end the war. Nothing was said by our officers, but there was a nameless something in the air which told each man that a crisis was at hand. Orders were given in low tones. The dim, shadowy outlines of the different commands as they took their positions under the sombre shades of the pines, gave a weird effect to the scene.

Just as the day began to streak the East, we heard a rapid firing on our extreme left. In a short time a courier dashed up to General Gordon with an order. ‘Attention! Left face, forward! Double quick!’ passed up our lines, and we were off on a run. Troops in reserve had to have what the horse jockeys call ‘good bottom.’ At that time we were in good order for a run. Not a fat man in our ranks. A quarter of a pound of meat and a pint of unsifted meal, with hard work, was our formula for reducing flesh. On this occasion, we demonstrated that the old saying, ‘a lean dog for a long chase,’ was a correct theory. How far we went, I am unable to say, but it was to General Lee's extreme left. Just as we arrived on a run, we saw our boys, Hood's Texas, I think, recapturing works which the enemy had gained temporary possession of. We had scarcely time to draw a long breath before another courier dashed up to General Gordon, when the command came quickly, ‘About face! forward! double quick!’ Back over our tracks we sped, covering the [246] whole distance at a run. The men needed no urging, for we all felt that there must be some urgent need. General Gordon, accompanied by a young man, who was detailed from my old company (A) at division headquarters as a courier, went ahead.

This young man told me afterwards that when General Gordon reached General Lee he reined his horse back on his haunches, throwing his hand to his cap, he saluted General Lee, and said: ‘What do you want me to do, General?’ General Gordon was then, he said, the most superb looking soldier he ever saw. During our absence, as we afterwards learned, the enemy had broken over our lines, capturing the greater part of General Edward Johnson's division. It was to retake and re-establish this line we had been sent for.

When we, the reserve, I mean, arrived, General Lee was seated upon Traveler, engaged in conversation with General Gordon. Our brigade came up on a run and went through the manoeuvre of ‘on the right by file into line,’ by which we changed front, facing towards Spotsylvania Courthouse. As the boys came up the General could read the same question in all their eyes which General Gordon had asked. The General was in great danger, for we were under a lively fire as we formed. I saw the dust fly from General Gordon's coat, just above his sword belt. Checking his horse, he threw his hand to his back. He seemed satisfied that it was only a little darning for Mrs. Gordon, who was always in reach, and spurred on down the line. I passed in a few feet of General Lee; he was perfectly calm. No one would ever have dreamed that General Grant held probably half a mile of his works. It was just then the circumstance occurred which has given rise to some controversy. I allude to General Lee's being turned back. What has caused some confusion has been the fact that almost the same identical thing happened twice during that campaign. In the first instance, General Lee wanted to lead the Texans, when they turned him back. On this occasion General Lee took his position on the right of our brigade, with the evident intention of leading it into action. General Gordon told the General he must go back and said: ‘These are Virginians, and they are going to do their duty,’ appealing to the men at the same time. All who heard him responded that he must go back, and they would do what he wanted done.

It took less time to form that line than it has taken me to tell it. [247] When rising in his stirrups, General Gordon gave the command, ‘Forward! Guide right!’

Those two brigades had a herculean task ahead of them. Thirty thousand troops, flushed with victory, held formidable works. The brigades possibly at that time, for they had already lost heavily since the campaign opened, not more than ten thousand strong, were about to grapple with this force. To General Lee's practiced eye it must have seemed a forlorn hope. How they acquitted themselves the sequel will show.

Immediately in front of our brigade was a dense growth of old field pines. When the order came to move forward, our boys stepped briskly to the front in perfect order, and were soon lost to view in the pine thicket. It was not until we had emerged from the thicket, on the opposite side from us, that we saw the enemy. To make our position plainer, I will here state that we were moving in a somewhat oblique line to a line of works which were under construction, and extended from heel to heel of the horseshoe, which contained the works Johnson had lost; in other words it was a simple straightening of our line of battle, throwing off the horseshoe. As we emerged from the pines we came suddenly upon this inner line, and which was heavily manned by the enemy. I don't think I exaggerate when I say that the enemy poured a volley into our faces at not over twenty yards. It was then, and not till then, that the ‘rebel yell’ rose wild and clear upon the morning air. It makes my blood jump quicker as I recall that scene. Never pausing a second, our boys mounted the works. In a moment the blue and the gray were mixed in a dense struggling mass. What must have been General Lee's feelings then, as he heard the crashing volley of the enemy, the wild cheer of his boys, and then comparative silence, for the boys were too busy to yell? Soon his practiced ear could detect a receding fire, as the enemy broke in confusion and were driven across the line of the horseshoe, towards Spotsylvania. Here they followed the line of Johnson's work towards the famous ‘Bloody Angle,’ our boys in hot pursuit.

As we advanced up a long slope, the ground gradually rising towards the ‘bloody angle,’ we discovered a dense mass of the enemy formed behind a worm fence, which struck Johnson's works at right angles. Somebody got it into his head that they had surrendered, and officers dashed in amongst our men yelling, ‘Cease firing, they [248] have surrendered.’ After some time the firing ceased, but our men continued to advance, every man with his gun cocked and ready to bring it to his shoulder. I was reminded of a big bird hunt. We were now, I think, in forty yards of the mass I speak of, when a shot came from their lines. As quick as thought our boys blazed away, and raising a yell dashed at them. In another moment the blue and the gray became a dense, surging mass. The fighting here was desperate. Pistols, guns, bayonets, swords, all came into play. A lieutenant of the Fifty-second Virginia was just to my right, almost touching me. I saw him put his hand upon a Yankee's shoulder, ordering him to surrender. The Yankee jerked away, and making a half turn, drove his bayonet through the lieutenant's body, killing him instantly. I had a loaded revolver in my hand, and 1 emptied it, in many instances close enough to burn their clothing. I recollect thinking during that fight of a remark Murat was credited with making, that he had been in a hundred battles and did not know whether he had ever killed a man. I saw then how that might easily happen. When so many bullets are flying it is impossible to say which did the work, and I am glad I did not know. The enemy broke again, retreating in the direction of the angle. We were now, I think, probably about 150 yards from it, when we became aware of a heavy fire from Johnson's old works, and discovered that they were heavily manned by the enemy. Turning from the pursuit of the mass in front of us we charged the works which were now to our left, killing, wounding and capturing everything in them.

At this juncture of affairs I am satisfied I was in less than fifty steps of the angle, and I am perfectly certain I could have gone to the angle without encountering an enemy. The officer commanding our brigade that day was, I think, Colonel Casey, of Bedford. Finding that our pursuit of the enemy had separated our brigade from the Georgians, he ordered us to close to the right. In doing so, we increased the distance between our left and the angle to probably a hundred, or possibly one hundred and fifty yards. Not long after this movement, about half an hour, I think, a large number of tile enemy made their appearance to our left and rear. Running through the entire length of the horse shoe, from toe to heel, was a skirt of timber. Under cover of this the enemy had crossed over at the angle, and passed down the centre about one hundred yards, coming out so as to strike our left. As they made their appearance, a part [249] of our left swung back from the works so as to front the advancing enemy. A small party of us, on the extreme left, thought they were a party cut off, and were coming in to surrender. We were so sure of it that we stood our ground until they came in ten steps of us. The foremost man was an Irishman. He had a cap in one hand and his musket in the other. When he reached the point I have just mentioned, he called out, ‘Surrinder!’ We soon saw our mistake; one of our party quickly threw his gun to his shoulder, fired at the Irishman and missed him; the Irishman threw his gun up, but before he could fire, another one of our party fired, killing him. We were too close to run, and knew that our men would open, and we would be between two fires. So we dropped flat on the ground, the enemy passing by, and over us-just then our left opened on them, and they came back pell-mell, and as they passed us going back our party jumped up, and gave them a parting shot. It was a close call for us. Had our left given back, we would have gone on to reinforce Johnson's party. This party of the enemy retreated, and crossed the works at the angle. From that time out, during the entire day, neither side occupied the space between our left and the angle. About this time Colonel Casey directed me to go in search of General Gordon, or some officer on Lee's staff, and directed me to explain the situation, and ask for reinforcements to fill the vacant space on our left.

I started along the line of works and went towards Spotsylvania Courthouse. As I approached the part of our line which was occupied by the Georgians, I noticed that they were all down behind the works, and as I advanced towards them they motioned to me to get down. I couldn't understand what they meant, until all at once I discovered a line of the enemy lying flat in a tall growth of broom-sedge, which covered an old field in front of the Georgians .Balaam when he saw the angel standing in his way with the flaming sword was not more astonished than I was. The first thought which passed through my mind was why on earth couldn't I see those fellows? They were so close I could almost distinguish one face from another, and why they didn't shoot me is a mystery, unless they thought I wasn't worth the ammunition. Under the circumstances I was very willing to overlook the slight. It has been said that ‘Where ignorance is bliss, 'twere folly to be wise.’ This was an exception to that rule. Ignorance was undoubtedly bliss in this case, but it would [250] have been very far from folly to have been wise. It took me very little while to disappear behind the works. I was now in a dilemma. I couldn't stay there, and after seeing what was out in the sedge I did not relish the idea of again taking the chances. After creeping along the works for some distance I found a place where the ground sloped back from them. Here, by lying flat and working along snake fashion I could keep out of sight until I reached the skirt of timber alluded to above, when I, made good time. Soon after leaving the Georgians I heard cheering and heavy firing. I think the enemy tried to break over the Georgians, and were driven back. After accomplishing what I was sent for I returned to my position on the left of our brigade. During the entire day there was an incessant fire on us, both from infantry and artillery. With the exception of the ground just at the angle the enemy had been driven out of Johnson's entire line. The tree which General Walker alludes to was but a few steps from us.

The fire from the Angle annoyed us all day. A party of us went to our commanding officers and volunteered to take it. Our plan was to crawl from one traverse to another (they being from fifteen to twenty steps apart all the way from our left to the angle) until we got up to the enemy. He declined, however, thinking it not worth the risk. I feel sure it could have been done.

In giving my account of this day's work I have not mentioned anything except our own operations, the Georgians being out of sight, but that they did their share I have not the slightest doubt. For they could always be depended upon to do as much as any command in our service. Night closed one of the most disagreeable days I ever spent. As soon as it was dark we were taken from the horseshoe, and placed in the line I spoke of from heel to heel. The next day was quiet. Toward evening General Ewell came to us with a paper (from Washington) with a full account of the battle of the 12th. Although nearly a third of a century ago, the press was alive, and wielded such an influence in the great war that the question as to ‘which is the most powerful the pen or the sword?’ is as far from settlement as ever. The general read us the Northern account, in which the army correspondent paid us, I think, a merited compliment when he said: ‘The fighting of the Rebels was simply splendid.’ ‘But, boys, you ought to hear what General Lee says about you,’ said the old general. Of course, we all besieged him to tell us, but [251] he rode off laughing, and said: ‘It would make you too vain.’ He never told us, but we felt sure it was something good, and, if possible, we were more willing than ever to do just what Marse Robert wanted done.

I have written more then I intended, but I suppose you know when an old soldier gets to fighting his battles over, he is hard to stop.

Yours, &c.,