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Rodes (search for this): chapter 19
ust the end of their brigade line, and a very thin line it was. We saw nothing of the major-general of our division. General Rodes, of Ewell's corps, was the only major-general we saw. He was a man of very striking appearance, of erect, fine figureead proudly, until his neck and shoulders were flecked with white froth, seeming to be conscious that he carried Caesar. Rodes' eyes were everywhere, and every now and then he would stop to attend to some detail of the arrangement of his line or hiry line. But they would not hearken to the voice of the charmer, charming never so wisely, and finally I appealed to General Rodes and asked him for a detail of men to throw off a short line at right angles to the works so as to catch and turn in these stragglers. He readily assented, and we soon had a strong, full line, though at first neither Rodes' own men nor our Mississippians seemed to appreciate this style of reinforcement. One point more, with regard to our experience at the left
Ewell (search for this): chapter 19
nt a battery, I'll know where to get one! Two years later, at the base of the Bloody Angle, General Ewell seems to have been of the same opinion. He held our centre, which had just been pierced andthese guns without being fired upon. It might have been a perilous undertaking, yet I think General Ewell would have given his consent; but the officer to whose command the guns belonged protested, a very thin line it was. We saw nothing of the major-general of our division. General Rodes, of Ewell's corps, was the only major-general we saw. He was a man of very striking appearance, of erect, all night and was drizzling all day, and everything was wet, soggy, muddy, and comfortless. General Ewell made his headquarters not far off, and seemed busy and apprehensive, and we gathered from ery place and the very time where this fire is said to have occurred; for we were sent for by General Ewell, as I recollect, early on the morning of the 12th, and we remained at the left base of the S
Barrett (search for this): chapter 19
e opportunity was brief; later it became impracticable, and the guns were permanently lost. Barrett, Colonel Cabell's plucky little courier, rode almost into the works with us, and we had left ousition which we thought afforded some protection. In a few moments someone shouted to me that Barrett was calling lustily for me. I ran back where I had left him and was distressed to see my good horse, Mickey, stretched on the ground. Barrett said he had just been killed by a piece of shell which struck him in the head. The poor fellow's limbs were still quivering. I could see no wound of snorted a little blood and was again as good as new. As soon as practicable, however, we sent Barrett and the three horses behind that brick kiln back on the hill, or to some place near by of compat Mickey, who seemed to have gotten his hand in, might keep up this trick of getting killed, as Barrett said, once too often. I may as well say. right here that the noble horse got safely through th
Napoleon (search for this): chapter 19
Chapter 19: Spottsylvania Death of a gallant boy Mickey free hard to kill the 10th and 12th of May handsome Conduct of the Napoleon section of the Howitzers frying pan as sword and banner prayer with a dying Federal soldier trot out your deaf man and your old Doctor the base of the Bloody Angle the musketry fire majestic equipoise of Marse Robert. At Spottsylvania Court House, when the artillery and infantry arrived and took the place of the gallant cavalrymen, who had a little closer the next time, as they did not care to go so far after the clothes and shoes and muskets — were so weary and worn and heavy at night that they could scarcely be roused to meet the charging enemy. The troops supporting the two Napoleon guns of the Howitzers were, as I remember, the Seventh (or Eighth) Georgia and the First Texas. Toward the close of the day everything seemed to have quieted down, in a sort of implied truce. There was absolutely no fire, either of musketry or
John Hunter (search for this): chapter 19
re able to do so turned to fly and our infantry were following them over the intrenchments; but it is doubtful whether this would have been the result had it not been for the prompt and gallant action of the artillery. There was an old Captai-Hunter,--it seems difficult to determine whether of the Texas or the Georgia regiment,who had the handle of his frying pan in his hand, holding the pan over the hot coals, with his little slice of meat sizzling in it, when the enemy broke over. He had his ministrations where the enemy had broken over; so we walked up there and found their dead and dying piled higher than the works themselves. It was almost dark, but as we drew near we saw a wounded Federal soldier clutch the pantaloons of Captain Hunter, who at that moment was passing by, frying pan in hand, and heard him ask, with intense eagerness: Can you pray, sir? Can you pray? The old captain looked down at him with a peculiar expression, and pulled away, saying, No, my friend, I don
Bloody Angle (search for this): chapter 19
d a strong, full line, though at first neither Rodes' own men nor our Mississippians seemed to appreciate this style of reinforcement. One point more, with regard to our experience at the left base of the Salient, and we have done with the Bloody Angle. Every soldier who was there, if he opens his mouth to speak or takes up his pen to write, seems to feel it solemnly incumbent upon him to expatiate upon the fearful fire of musketry. What I have to say about the matter will doubtless prove on I can suggest is that the fighting must have been much hotter further to the right. It may be well just here to explain, while we cannot excuse, the existence not alone of the great Salient of Spottsylvania, with its soldier nickname of Bloody Angle, and its fearful lesson of calamity, but also of other like faulty formations in our Confederate battle lines. It was noticeable toward the close of the war what skilful, practical engineers the rank and file of the Army of Northern Virgin
Beau Barnes (search for this): chapter 19
tery and was very devoted to it and his comrades in it, had come to the line to see how we were getting on, and gave us news of other parts of the line. He, Beau Barnes, and others of us, were standing by our guns talking, when a twenty-pounder Parrott shell came grazing just over our guns, passed on, and about forty yards behinf it and followed its upward flight until it seemed to be going straight to the sky. Stiles said, There it goes, as though flung by the hand of a giant. Beau Barnes, who was not poetical, exclaimed, Giant be darned; there ain't any giant can fling 'em like that! He was right! If the foregoing was not written with malicious intent to expose me to the scorn of all sensible and practical people, then my belief is that Willy Dame dreamed the absurd story; but if Barnes and I did speak under the circumstances mentioned, and both are correctly quoted, then I admit the redoubtable Beau had decidedly the best of it, and I apologize humbly. The 10th o
Henry Coalter Cabell (search for this): chapter 19
shed and his artillery captured. He wanted guns to stay the rout and steady his men, and he sent to the extreme left for Cabell's Battalion. I do not mean that the old battalion, or either of its batteries, was counted among the most brilliant arti. If I remember correctly, our other guns occupied positions on the line from which they could not be withdrawn. As Colonel Cabell and I rode ahead, as before mentioned in another connection, to learn precisely where the guns were to be placed, we been done, the opportunity was brief; later it became impracticable, and the guns were permanently lost. Barrett, Colonel Cabell's plucky little courier, rode almost into the works with us, and we had left our horses with him, close up, but in a had lost my pocket-knife, or some such trivial article of personal outfit, but difficult to replace; so, contrary to Colonel Cabell's advice-he didn't forbid my going — I went back on foot and in the dark to look, or feel, for it. I had no difficult
Custis Lee (search for this): chapter 19
, but that he had disappeared; that I could not track him far and soon gave it up, concluding I would never see him again. I certainly laid down that night one of Lee's Miserables, as we used to term ourselves, after reading Victor Hugo's great novel — a soldier edition of his works in Confederate sheep's wool paper having been d or for any other hour in all the tide of time. But for frequency and pertinacity of attack, and repetition and constancy of repulse, I question if the left of General Lee's line on the 10th of May, 1864, has ever been surpassed. I cannot pretend to identify the separate attacks or to distinguish between them, but should think thervice which, in the opinion of prominent officers thoroughly acquainted with the facts and every way competent and qualified to judge, was deemed to have saved General Lee's army from being cut in twain. There is one other feature or incident of the closing fight of the 10th of May which may be worthy of record, not alone beca
Benjamin Grubb Humphreys (search for this): chapter 19
to have gotten his hand in, might keep up this trick of getting killed, as Barrett said, once too often. I may as well say. right here that the noble horse got safely through the war, but was captured with his master at Sailor's Creek. When our guns first entered the works, or rather were stationed on the line just back of the little trench, there seemed to be comparatively few infantrymen about. One thing that pleased us greatly was, that our old Mississippi brigade, Barksdale's, or Humphreys', was supporting us; but it must have been just the end of their brigade line, and a very thin line it was. We saw nothing of the major-general of our division. General Rodes, of Ewell's corps, was the only major-general we saw. He was a man of very striking appearance, of erect, fine figure and martial bearing. He constantly passed and repassed in rear of our guns, riding a black horse that champed his bit and tossed his head proudly, until his neck and shoulders were flecked with white
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