Rich mountain in 1861.
[from the Richmond Dispatch of November 17 and December 3, 1899.]
An account of that memorable campaign and how General Garnett was killed.
History of the occurrences
Of May 10th, 11th, and 12th—Taliaferro Succeeds to command after the fall of
Garnett—Incidents of the report by
Dr. Henry M. Price, Company K, 44th Virginia Volunteers, with corrections and additional particulars by
C. T. Allen, formerly of
Lunenburg county, Va.
At the request of many old comrades, and through your courtesy, I will try to give your readers a true history of the occurrences of the 10th, 11th, and 12th of May, 1861, culminating in the tragic death of
General Garnett, and the loss of
West Virginia to the
State and the
Confederacy.
No campaign has been more misunderstood, nor more misrepresented, both North and South than this.
On the evening of the 10th of July, 1861, the Forty-fourth Virginia Volunteers, commanded by
Colonel William C. Scott, of
Powhatan
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co.,
Va., reached
Beverley,
Randolph county, and encamped at the base of
Rich mountain, just beyond, in the road crossing that mountain, on which, six miles beyond,
General Pegram held position, having 300 men, known as the ‘College Boys,’ entrenched on the summit of the mountain three miles off, and 900 with himself.
Scott had 800, rank and file, and six pieces of artillery.
At
Laurel Hill (
Elkins), nine miles beyond
Beverley,
General Garnett faced
McClellan's 15,000 with 2,000 men, composed of
Colonel William C. Taliaferro's brigade, the Thirty-first Virginia (
West Virginia), under
Colonel Jackson, and the First Georgia, under
Colonel Ramsey.
Thus
Garnett was attempting to hold four detached positions against
McClellan's united force of over three to one.
On the night of the 10th your correspondent was thrown out at the extreme picket on
Rich mountain, with orders from
Captain Shelton, of
Louisa, officer of the day, to scout out if anything unusual occurred, and find out its nature and report to him on rounds to the posts.
About midnight a movement of the enemy was discovered opening and cutting a way 'round
Pegram's position in the direction of the entrenched position held by the ‘College Boys.’
This was duly reported and a courier sent to
General Garnett.
At daylight of July 11h an order came to
Scott to immediately join
Garnett at
Laurel Hill.
When within three miles of that position an order came to countermarch double quick ‘to the forks of the road on
Rich mountain, some half a mile from the entrenched “College boys,” and hold the position to the last man.’
The position was reached about 1 P. M., and almost immediately the enemy— 5,000 strong—made an attack on the position of the ‘College Boys.’
A more gallant fight than these brave boys put up against overwhelming odds was never made.
They stood firm as the rocky base of the mountain beneath them, until the last round of ammunition was exhausted, and then, only then, scattered amid the forest.
The men of the Forty-fourth were held, under
General Garnett's positive order, as idle witnesses almost, of these brave boys' defeat—stern men crying in agony to be led in to their help, even almost to mutiny.
There never has been a doubt in our minds, if we had united with the boys the 1,100, and twelve pieces of artillery, would have checked, if not defeated, the ‘Buckeye Braggarts,’ as we did successively four times thereafter.
On that day, wrought to reckless frenzy, we might have been annihilated, but never defeated!
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Almost with the close of the fight, an order came from
General Garnett for
Scott to fall back to
Huttonsville, twelve miles from
Beverley, and he would join us there, concentrate, and give
McClellan battle.
We had nearly reached
Huttonsville, when there came another order from
Garnett for us to return to
Beverley, where he would join us, and fight there next day. Midnight of the 11th of July found us, after marching and countermarching all day, drawn up in the streets of
Beverley, waiting
Garnett, our last march made amid a thunder-storm and downpour of rain seldom witnessed.
As we stood in rank, wet to the skin, there came a last order from
Garnett ‘to take the prisoners from the jail and fall rapidly back to
Monterey, where he would join us by way of
Hardy and the
South Branch of the
Potomac.’
This was done,
Colonel Scott ordering your correspondent to remain at the log cabin, just out of
Beverly, to direct stragglers from the fight on
Rich mountain on the line of retreat.
This he did, remaining until the
Yankee cavalry appeared, approaching
Beverley from the direction of
Laurel Hill, on the morning of the 12th of July, then rejoining the regiment late in the evening of that charge at
Cheat mountain.
It is evident that, as the turnpike road was open for the
Yankee cavalry, it was equally open for
Garnett to have joined
Scott at
Beverley, and retreat that way to
Cheat mountain and entrench there, as the enemy did afterwards.
At ‘Travellers' Rest,’ on
Greenbrier river, near dark of the 12th, we met the 12th Georgia, under
Colonel Edward Johnson, who fell in line after us, and continued retreat over the
Alleghany.
About midnight, 'mid inky darkness, at a long angle in the road, our prisoners, held in the front, broke away, and the fire of the guard striking our rear, led us to think we were being attacked by ‘bushwhackers,’ and the fire was promptly returned, leading the front to the same idea.
Then for some minutes the front and rear continued fiercely firing, the flash of our
Springfield muskets illuminating the visible darkness, the men, almost to a man, remaining resolutely firm and cool, as comrades fell around and the shrieks of the wounded pierced the darkness 'round.
Had
Mrs. Susan Pendleton Lee been an eye-witness of this scene, she would hardly have written, ‘These men were totally demoralized.’
On the evening of the 13th we rested for the night, and on the 14th of July reached
Monterey and encamped, awaiting
Garnett's forces to join us.
Pegram, cut off by
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this mismanagement, was compelled to surrender the force with him to
McClellan.
General Garnett commenced to retreat on the night of the 11th of July, with
McClellan in pursuit, who overtook him at Cannick's Ford, over
Cheat river.
Here
Garnett concluded to make a stand to check the enemy's advance.
A line of battle was formed of
Taliaferro's regiment and the 1st Georgia, with the 31st Virginia (
West Virginia) thrown out as a skirmish line and sharpshooters along the banks of the river.
General Garnett rode up to
Lieutenant-Colonel Pat Duffy, of Braxton Courthouse, in charge of the skirmish line, and called for twelve men. On reaching the stream he ordered eleven back, and himself and one man,
Zack Tillman, of
Lewis county, continued to the middle of the river.
Here
Garnett ordered ten men back, who, thinking the
General demented, hesitated.
A volley from the enemy riddled
Garnett's body.
It fell into the stream.
Tillman brought out safely the
General's horse.
The body was recovered by
McClellan and sent home by way of
Washington for burial.
On the fall of
Garnett,
Colonel Taliaferro assumed command, and speedily checked the enemy's advance, and his force safely reached
Monterey a few days after.
The entire force were detained a month at this place by measles of a virulent type which deciminated our ranks.
On the 15th of August we advanced to Traveller's Rest, on the
Greenbrier, to hold the
Parkersburg turnpike, and prevent any advance from
Cheat mountain on
Staunton,
General Henry R. Jackson, of
Georgia, being in command.
We had been reinforced by the 1st Arkansas,
Colonel Rusk, and
Fulkerson's
southwest Virginia regiment.
Early on the morning of the 2d of September,
Millroy, with 5,000 men and his field guns, crossed the bridge over the
Greenbrier to drive in our pickets and attack our entrenched camp.
Our pickets, 120 strong, taking the laurel on the side of the mountain, held their advance for three hours, making an unequalled fight of this character.
The 1st Arkansas,
Taliaferro's regiment, and the 44th Virginia held the entrenchments, the latter being on the left at the extreme point of the ridge, near the enemy and under our own battery and in line of fire of the enemy's. The 1st and 12th Georgians formed line of battle on the banks of the river to check the enemy's crossing.
The ridge, on our left, was held by the 31st Virginia (
West Virginia) and
Fulkerson's regiment.
The
Georgians, preventing
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Millroy from crossing to attack the entrenchments, the battle culminated into an artillery duel of three hours duration, when the enemy fell back.
During this artillery duel the writer witnessed as cool a piece of daring as he saw but once after during the war. He was lying down in his place in the trench at the extreme point, near the enemy's battery and directly beneath our own, in line of the direct fire.
The next man to to the left of him was
private Robert Blackburn, the present postmaster of
Antioch, Va., who was sitting up, a twelve pound shell fell in the trench between us, its firing, hissing fuse rapidly burning, predicating death or wounds to all in that part of the trench.
There was no time for me to rise and throw it out, so I exclaimed, as it fell: ‘Throw her out, Bob.’
Instantly he seized it and hurled it over the bank of trench, and it scarcely rolled twenty feet before it exploded.
Here was a fair specimen of our demoralization, so curtly mentioned in
Mrs. Lee's history.
Indeed,
Colonel (afterward General)
Edward Johnson paid the men the compliment to say, ‘They were as immobile under fire as a parcel of tarrapins on a sandbar.’
Soon after this
General Robert E. Lee, then in command in
West Virginia, when he planned an attack on
Cheat mountain from the west, called for 2,500 volunteers from this force to storm the entrenchments from the east.
He got them, and they marched to position at midnight, awaiting all day for the signal guns from the west side —that never came.
General Lee could not have deemed them suffering much from demoralization.
Late in the fall our forces fell back to the top of the
Alleghany for winter quarters,
Colonel Edward Johnson in command.
On the night of the 25th of December, the enemy, 5,000 strong, under
Millroy, made a night march in a snowstorm to surprise us. Our pickets, on the turnpike road up the mountain, were bayoneted, rolled up in their blankets, asleep on their posts.
Our men were round their camp-fires, cooking breakfast; the ‘Buckeyes’ suddenly appeared, firing into them.
Surprised and overpowered by such numbers, our men scattered in disorder, falling back some thousand yards and halted.
Colonel Johnson, in his night-clothes, slippers and overcoat—for there was no time left to dress—put himself at their head, with an ‘old grub’ picked up, and charged the enemy, our force growing at each step by the surprised men. For a short time it was
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a hand-to-hand fight at close quarters.
Gradually the enemy gave back; then faster and faster, finally flying in total rout along and down the mountain side.
All things considered, this was one of the most remarkable victories gained during the war.
General Loring having assumed command, on hearing that
Fremont was ascending the
East Branch of the
Potomac with 10,000 men to cut him off at
McDowell, slowly fell back to the
Cow Pasture mountain, to protect
Staunton.
About midnight of the 6th of May,
Stonewall Jackson, marching rapidly from the Shenandoah Valley with a part of his small force, joined us and at once ordered us ‘to go back to Mc-Dowell’ and fight, but whip the enemy.
We reached the vicinity of
McDowell, where Freemont had united with
Millroy, about 2 P. M. of the 8th of May.
We at once formed line of battle on the ridge above, the centre being held by the 44th and 21st Virginia and the 12th Georgia regiments.
Upon this attack, after attack was made to break it. The fight stubbornly continued until night, when the enemy were totally routed by a general charge and their camp, stores, etc., taken.
From this date this command became part of
Stonewall Jackson's famous foot cavalry—present in every fight up to his lamented death.
They formed part of the force of
General Edward Johnson, cut off at the
Bloody Angle, and furnished the principal part of the six hundred officers—the martyrs of
Morris's Island and
Fort Pulaski-many of them food for the sharks of
Charleston harbor or their bodies decaying amid the boggy marshes round
Fort Pulaski.
At the former places—held by negro troops, late slaves—their ration was two ounces of bread, washed down with a pint of
Cayenne pepper tea.
Captain James M. Hughes, Company K, 44th Virginia, who resides near
Scottsville, Va., says he owes his life to a negro—
Corporal Triner—who, taking a fancy to him, daily brought him battercakes, hid beneath his shirt bosom.
His brother,
Lieutenant John Hughes, less fortunate, and many others, were reduced to skeletons, under the agony of starvation from a stimulated appetite goaded by the beverage given.
The few who at last, in the very jaws of death, returned home were walking skeletons, whom even their friends failed to recognize.
If any one desires to hear the terrible torments suffered by these victims of a diabolical cruelty without parallel, even in the world's darkest pages, let them call upon
Captain James M. Hughes, as brave and true a soldier as marched to the tune of Dixie beneath the Stars and Bars, and as the unbidden ear of memory rises in his
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fearless eye, he will a tale unfold that will damn the authors of this diabolical scheme and consign them to eternal obliquity of the blackest pages of the world's eternal history.
Corrections and further particulars by C. T. Allen.
Mexico,
Mo., November 25, 1899.
To the
Editor of the Dispatch:
In your weekly issue of November 21st I have read with pleasing interest an article by
Dr. Henry M. Price, late of the 44th Virginia Volunteers, touching the incidents and occurrences of July 10, 11, and 12, 1861, at and about
Rich mountain, the scene of the second battle of the late war—the first being the
battle of Big Bethel, on June 10th.
I remember with remarkable distinctness many occurrences of that time, and I recall this day, after the lapse of thirty-eight and one-third years, many little incidents of that terrific battle on the summit of
Rich mountain, in which over 25 per cent. of the brave boys who went into it on the
Confederate side ‘bit the dust.’
Well and distinctly do I recall this day the fact that
Colonel William C. Scott and his full and brave regiment was close by-almost in sight-and that our cry of distress, as our comrades fell ‘like leaves in wintry weather,’ was unheeded by him. I recall also the fact that one of our men,
Waddy S. Bacon (one of
Walker's Nicarauga campaigners and filibusters, as brave a man as ever trod the earth), in some way ‘ran the gauntlet’ of shot and shell on that ever-memorable July II, 1861, and went to
Colonel Scott in person, told him of the situation, begged him to go to our help, showed him how an attack in the
Federal rear would demoralize the whole Federal force and cause them to flee as if ‘from the wrath to come,’ and offered to go side by side with him in leading the rear attack.
No,
Colonel Scott didn't ‘budge’ one inch!
Pegram's heroes—only about 250 actually engaged—confronted by
General Rosecrans with three full regiments—at least 3,000 men—stood like a ‘stone wall’ on that mountain summit, fighting to the death, hoping, waiting, praying that
Colonel Scott would come to their help and rescue.
They fought and hoped and waited and prayed in vain.
Finally, as they were about to be surrounded by the
Federals ‘lapping’ all around them, they fell back, leaving seventy-odd dead on the field of honor.
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The
battle of Rich mountain, on July 11, 1861, is not down in history as one of the big battles of the war. In comparison with a hundred others, perhaps, it was a small affair, and will not be noticed by the future historian.
But it is a fact, nevertheless, that it was a bloody battle, and those engaged in it on the
Confederate side ‘stood to their guns’ with a gallantry and heroism worthy of all praise.
The fact that they lost over 25 per cent. of their number attests the stubbornness of the battle.
Allow me to correct
Dr. Price in a few particulars, of which I know more than he could possibly know, for he was with
Colonel Scott and I was with
Pegram, though I was not actually in the fight on the mountain summit.
Dr. Price says
General Pegram was ‘entrenched on the summit’ of
Rich mountain, with 300 men, known as the ‘College Boys,’ and 900 men elsewhere.
Here my friend is in error.
Lieutenant-Colonel John Pegram (afterwards major-general, and killed at
Five Forks, near
Petersburg, on or about April 1, 1865), arrived at
Rich mountain with his regiment, the 20th Virginia volunteers, on Tuesday or Wednesday evening, July 9th or 10th--I have forgotten which—and assumed command.
We came from
Laurel Hill, where
General Garnett was in command.
When we got to
Rich mountain there were a few troops there-how many I do not now remember.
Among them was a field battery commanded by a gray-bearded and brave old gentleman named
Anderson.
But all told,
Pegram's force on July 11th didn't number more than 1,000 men, if so many.
‘The
College Boys’—students from Hampden-Sidney College, commanded by
Professor John M. P. Atkinson, brave and splendid soldiers, every one of them!—constituted one company only in the 20th Virginia, but they were only a small part of the
Confederate force who held the mountain summit so bravely that day. As well as I remember, there were no entrenchments—if any, very poor indeed—on the mountain top. We had not been there long enough to throw up entrenchments worthy the name, and the few troops there before we got to
Rich mountain were engaged in felling trees and making an abattis on the southwestern slope of the mountain.
I think it can be safely stated that there was no ‘entrenched position’ on the mountain summit, but there was a so-called ‘intrenched position’ (logs piled up with cracks chinked with rocks and sticks, &c.!) on the southwestern slope.
Now, my friend,
Dr. Price, says
Colonel Scott, on the morning of July 11th, in obedience to an order from
General Garnett, started
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from
Beverley to join
Garnett at
Laurel Hill, and was then ordered back to the forks of the road on
Rich mountain, some half mile from the entrenched College Boys, and hold the position to the last man.
Colonel Scott reached this ‘forks of the road’ point about 1 P. M. July 11th, when immediately 5,000 Federals, who had passed this ‘forks of the road’ point, I presume, before
Scott got there, attacked
Pegram's force on the mountain .summit.
Now, let's see how ‘things’ stood just at this point of time.
The Confederates under
Pegram on the mountain summit were aligned across the road, facing in a somewhat northeast direction, the
Federals under
Rosecrans attacking
Pegram and facing in a somewhat southwestern direction.
Immediately behind these Federals and within a ‘half mile’ of
Pegram was
Colonel William C. Scott, with 800 men and six pieces of artillery, all eager to go to the rescue of the brave
Pegram and his fast-falling men!
My conscience!
What havoc
Colonel Scott could have played with his 800 brave men and six pieces of artillery by a dashing attack on the
Federal rear!
His artillery could not have done much real service owing to the topography of the ground surrounding him, but his men with rifles and muskets, aided by the uproar that could be created by six pieces of artillery firing even blank cartridges, could at that early period of the war have ‘raised the siege’ of
Pegram and his men and saved the day. But
Colonel Scott didn't ‘budge’ one inch. There he stood, an ‘idle witness’ of brave comrades praying him to come to their rescue, calling for his help, but fighting and dying at their post!
No wonder
Colonel Scott's braves ‘cried in agony to be led to their help, even almost to mutiny.’
I never knew
Colonel Scott personally, I do not now know whether he be dead or alive.
I have never known what reason he gave for not helping
Pegram that day.
Dr. Price says
Colonel Scott was ‘held under
Garnett's positive order at the forks-of-the-road point,’ and couldn't leave.
I have no doubt at all of the truth of that statement.
But let us look at the situation, and perhaps we will see that
Colonel Scott was not justified in fulfilling literally his order.
General Garnett first ordered
Scott to join him at
Laurel Hill.
Then
Garnett didn't know that
David L. Hart, a mountaineer, who lived on the mountain summit, was leading
Rosecrans with three full regiments to
Pegram's rear.
But he soon became aware of it, and realizing
Pegram's extreme danger of being overwhelmed and
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captured—‘horse, foot, and dragoon’—ordered
Scott back to protect
Pegram's rear, and believing that the ‘forks-of-the-road’ point was the best place for
Scott to take and make his fight and ‘hold to the last man,’ ordered him so to do. When
Scott got there he plainly saw that he was too late—that the
Federals were actually in position beyond the forks of the road, higher up the mountain, and ready to begin, and did in a few minutes, begin the bloody attack upon
Pegram's rear.
Colonel Scott had taken his position, and he held it, an ‘idle witness’ of the slaughter of his brave comrades on the mountain summit, and there he stayed, because
Garnett had ordered him to do so!
His brave men wanted to rescue, or at least help,
Pegram, but
Colonel Scott said ‘No!
I was ordered to take and hold this position at the forks of the road,’ and I am doing it.
Colonel Scott ought to have seen that the very wording of his order—‘to hold’ the forks-of-the-road point ‘to the last man’—contemplated his getting to that point before the
Federals got there, or at least before they struck
Pegram's rear on the mountain summit.
When he did get there, the
Federals had passed up the mountain and were ready to begin, and did in a few minutes begin the battle.
He ought to have seen that ‘circumstances had changed’ from what they were anticipated to be when
Garnett wrote that order, and the order was no longer obligatory upon him. Then, left to his own view of the actual situation, the view of a brave soldier, with a splendid advantage over the enemy staring him in the face, what was
Colonel Scott's duty?
Any one can answer—to strike the enemy in the rear with all possible dash; put every rifle and musket and every piece of artillery to its best work; raise the rebel yell, and make the enemy feel, or at least imagine, that ‘hell had broke loose,’ not ‘in
Georgia,’ but in his rear.
If
Colonel Scott had done so, the day would have been saved, I think, and many a brave boy would have lived to fight again.
But he didn't, and the day was lost, and the whole of what is now
West Virginia was thrown away, a new State carved out of the ‘Old Dominion’ without warrant of constitutional law—‘the bastard offspring of a political rape!’
When I recall the dreadful sufferings of
Pegram's men on their retreat from
Rich mountain; how we trudged through the very blackness of darkness the night following the battle through a trackless wilderness; how we tramped through mud and rain down to
Monterey; how men fell by the way from hunger; how wounded
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comrades were set up against trees and given the farewell hand of fellowship, and never heard of again—when a recollections of these sufferings comes back to me, and I think how much of them could have been avoided had
Colonel Scott realized his duty as he looked on as ‘idle witness’ at that forks-of-the-road point on July 1, 1861, the tears drop down my cheek, and I feel that
Colonel Scott was most grievously at fault.
Let no one think for one moment that I impugn in the least degree the courage of
Colonel Scott.
That is not my purpose, for I never knew him, or anything of his personal characteristics.
But I do say that
Colonel Scott failed that day to realize what his duty was. He literally obeyed orders, when he should have realized and known by the intuition of a soldier, that his duty was to throw his orders to the winds and strike the enemy in his front and their rear and die, if need be, in saving the day.
In another communication at some convenient season, with the permission of the
Dispatch, I will say more of
Rich mountain and its consequences.
