An independent scout.
by Robert W. North, co. B, 12TH Virginia cavalry.
What I am going to relate happened nearly twenty years ago, and as none of the participants, as far as I know, kept any diary or even a memorandum, it is probable that memory may be at fault, and that some things are omitted and others are stated not exactly as they occurred.In the summer of 1863, Jones's brigade, formerly Ashby's, with others of Steuart's command, was guarding the left flank of Lee's army, being stationed in front of Culpeper Courthouse doing picket duty on the plains around Brandy Station. The young men of Company B, Twelfth Virginia, mostly from Jefferson county, were very anxious to see their relatives and friends, and despairing of getting a furlough, determined on ‘taking a flank’; in other words, resolved that they would go home, and after having a good time for a few days, return to their duty and their command. After many plans were discussed, it was at last decided to combine business with pleasure, to canvass the three Jefferson companies of the regiment, and see how many men could be induced to go on a raid in the lower part of the Valley. I was not present at their first meetings, but in a few days they had about thirty men enrolled, of whom more than twenty belonged to Company B. They even persuaded a lieutenant to go with them, a man of undoubted courage, of good practical common sense, and fitted in every way, except in education and refinement, to be the leader of such an expedition. As he differed [242] from me in this great respect, that he never returned to his duty, his name will not be mentioned; for all the privates, with the exception of one, that fell under the influence of this lieutenant, returned to their command. This lieutenant and his friend subsequently went inside the enemy's lines and took the oath.
One evening about sundown, when the regiment returned from grazing their horses, the men that were going, instead of unsaddling and preparing for the night as the others, quietly mounted their horses, fell in outside of the camp, and marched off in the night. We reached the pickets on the extreme left of the army about midnight, and upon being stopped, the officer commanding stated that we were on a special scout, and the statement being satisfactory, we went on our way rejoicing. So well had the affair been managed, that neither regimental nor company officers knew of our absence till morning roll-call. We passed through Rappahannock. Warren and Clarke counties and camped near the Charlestown and Berryville turnpike. At that time Charlestown was held by some infantry and Captain Somers's company of cavalry, and it was our purpose to capture some of his command. The very first day fortune seemed to favor us, for six cavalrymen came out of Charlestown, and after proceeding three miles, turned in to Mrs. Fromer's on the Berryville turnpike. They had been watched, and at the overseer's house were attacked, and without any casualties on either side were secured. There was some firing, and while the Yankees were trying to escape and our boys were firing at them, a negro woman ran out and cried at the top of her voice: ‘Gemmun, Missus says you must stop fightina in dis yard!’
It was our intention to attack some detached picket post or scouting party, but for several days we could learn of no opportunity, and despairing of success, moved to the neighborhood of Smithfield, seven miles from Charlestown. In the meantime, the commanding officer at Martinsburg had heard of our presence, and had sent Captain Jones, of the First New York cavalry, with about one hundred and fifty men to break up and drive us out of the country.
One bright morning, the pickets on the hill saw a straggling cavalryman passing through Smithfield. Two men were sent out and captured him. Upon questioning him, he told us of Captain Jones and his command; at the time it was not believed, but in less than an hour it was found to be too true. The men had hardly got in with the Yankee, before Captain Blackford, an independent officer, and about half a dozen of his men who had been flushed by Jones, rode [243] into our camp and informed us that the Yankees were right at hand. By some means we were under the impression that there were about sixty of the enemy, and as we numbered nearly forty, were well mounted, well armed, and picked men, it was determined to fight, and that as soon as we could find the enemy. I never saw a command in better spirits, and, as far as I could see, in the following action every man did his duty.
For the reader to understand the action, the position of Smithfield must be described. Smithfield is built in a hollow, the road from Shepherdstown to Summit Point running through the centre of the town, and forming the main street. The road from Charlestown comes into the main street at right angles about the centre of the town. This road runs over a high hill, the summit of which is distant about six hundred yards from the main street. We were camped near the Charlestown road, and striking that road about a mile from Smithfield, took up our march for the town. When we reached the top of the hill a party of the enemy was coming out from the town. They rapidly formed on the left of the road in an old field, and we as rapidly got ready for action. Before we fired a shot we could see the bullets of the enemy knocking up the dust in the road, and a stronger proof of their demoralization, before all were formed, some ran away. Before we got to them all ran, and Captain Jones, finding that he would be left alone, was forced to flee. George Craton, of our company, immediately followed him, and I, seeing that he was an officer, for his shoulder-straps were plainly visible, followed Craton. The fellow was brave, for, turning in his saddle, he fired at his pursuers till he emptied his pistols. He was cut off from his men, and attempted to make his escape across the lots back of the town. He was driven at last to a rail-fence, staked and ridered, which his mare could not jump. When we reached the fence he was a few steps beyond it on foot, and upon our approach turned and deliberately snapped one of his pistols at us. Craton, in reply, unstrung a Sharp's rifle, for we had both emptied our pistols, with characteristic coolness leveled it, and the cap snapped. Up to this time not a word had been said, but upon Craton's fumbling in his pocket for another cap, Jones approached and said these are his exact words:—‘Well, boys, you have got me, but you would not have got me if the damned cowardly hounds had stuck up to me.’
Directly Ned Bonham and John Terrill rode up to us, and we all staid there for some little time thinking that the action was over, [244] except the pursuit of the Yankees. Without loading my pistol I rode up on the hill, which commanded a view of the Summit Point road, and seeing the enemy running, and having no idea that our men were in front of the Yankees, went back and reported that the enemy were running. John Terrill went to reconnoitre, but never returned, having been driven off, but afterwards had the good fortune to capture a straggling Yankee. When I got back I found Bonham and Craton quarreling about Jones's mare. Craton and I were mounted, Craton on Jones's mare, Bonham and Jones being on the ground. As suddenly as if they had sprung out of the earth, a small party of the enemy attacked us, capture d Bonham before he could mount his horse, recaptured Jones, and after chasing Craton and myself nearly a mile captured Craton, I alone being left to tell the tale.
But the adventures of the main party must be told. Captain Blackford and our men drove the force, under the immediate command of Jones, in confusion before them to the main street of the town, and there, much to their astonishment, met about a hundred troops drawn up in reserve. Without hesitating at all, they attacked, broke through, and after getting clear of the enemy retreated, but not at all in good order. The enemy pursued for about five miles, but it was not a panic by any means, for when they crowded our men too closely, the latter turned and always drove the advance of the enemy before them.
That night we mustered our forces, and found that our losses were six or eight missing—none killed or wounded that we could learn the only casualty on either side being the wounding of Jones in the hand, and four bullets in his mare. Some of these facts were afterwards learned from the returned prisoners, Craton being the first, having made his escape from Fort McHenry.
Now what were we to do? We had hoped that by making a gallant fight, capturing a number of the enemy, and returning to our command from a victorious field, our transgression would be forgiven. But it was just the reverse. We had been whipped, and badly whipped, and instead of having a number of prisoners in excess to show, the balance was on the other side. To complete our misfortune, on the way we heard that the commanding officer of the brigade, Colonel Lomax, had said, when he heard of our absence, that he would see if he could not hang some of those gentlemen of Company B. We had got within a few miles of camp when we met some of our own company. From them we got the pleasant [245] information that Lomax had been made a brigadier, and assigned to another command, and that Colonel Oliver Funsten, to whom many of us were personally known, was in command of our brigade. We were for many days in dread of what was to be done with us, but when day after day passed, and none of us were put under arrest, we put away our fears and became ourselves again.
It was told of Colonel Funsten, that while we were away one of his aids said that the Virginians could not reproach the North Carolinians with deserting, for thirty of Company B, Twelfth Virginia, had deserted in a body. Colonel Funsten replied: “Tut, man, they have not deserted, those boys are fighting the Yankees every day.”
It should be added that the little captured property that we had taken was sold, and when our comrades returned from prison each was given his share of the proceeds, none being given to those that escaped.
It must not be supposed that we went on this scout to avoid a battle or get away from the discipline of camp, for we courted battle, and the discipline was as strict as that we had left. But we all wanted to see our friends and to get fresh horses, and to accomplish these objects we would risk a great deal.
Rocky Mount, Louisiana, July, 1883.
