“For fully ten minutes the bullets were hissing near my ears. . .” : A Virginian remembers the fighting at Crampton’s Gapp

Philip F. Brown

                             

On September 14, 1862, the 12th Virginia Infantry of  Mahone’s Brigade, commanded by Colonel William Parham, was in position along the Mountain Church Road at the base of South Mountain. Within the lines of this regiment was Philip C. Brown serving in Company C. He would write a reminiscence of his experience in the war, first, as a series of articles in a local newspaper and then in book form that was published in 1917. The following is an excerpt from this book. In it he describes the aftermath of the fighting at 2nd Manassas as he works to rejoin his regiment after guarding the baggage not carried into battle, the march into Maryland, and the fighting at Crampton’s Gap.   Brown would be severely wounded in the arm and taken prisoner as Federal forces sweep up the mountain side.  Brown begins with camp being set up following the Battle of 2nd Manassas.


" When night came on we were not close enough to the battlefield to be disturbed by the wounded. It was a lonely vigil that Sidney Jones, Gus Durphy and I had that memorable night.  Before going to sleep, I deemed it wise to save a few coals for a fire next morning as we had used the only match in our party to start our evening fire. In raking up the ashes to cover the coals some cartridges accidently were caught up, and their explosion burnt my right thumb and singed my eyebrows.
We made our breakfast of hardtack, boiled in a tin cup, with a small piece of bacon, a dish that had become famous on the march, and known as “cush.” After turning over to the wagon train the belongings that were left with us the evening before, we started off to overtake our command. In doing so we saw the horrors of the evening previous. The ambulance corps of the enemy had been given permission to enter our lines, and care for their dead and wounded. The fields and roadway were strewn with them, and many sickening sights were seen. In several places the limbs and heads had been severed from the body by the artillery wheels, or mashed into a mangled mass by the hoofs of the cavalry trampling over them. At other places we counted where more than thirty bullets had struck a tree of not more than eight inches diameter, and in the height of a man. It was two days before we could overtake our command, as the line of battle before night had been pushed several miles from the point of first attack, and the regiment had one day start of us.

When we camped on Goose Creek, a few miles from Leesburg, John Pritchard and I obtained permission to go into town to provide a few articles for our mess, and, as it was nearly sunset when we left, it was understood that our return would be next morning. After purchasing tobacco and a small quantity of sugar and coffee, we sought rest on the lawn of a beautiful mansion, and were soon in a sound slumber, from which we were awakened by the music of several regimental bands passing through the town at the head of their commands. We little dreamed that ours was among the number, but so it was, and we marched off to overtake it. We forded the Potomac at Williams’ crossing (I think that was the name) about 10 A. M., and after dark arrived on the banks of Monocacy River, and still we had not overtaken our regiment. We were afraid to venture in the water not knowing its depth, and the September nights were growing cool. Leaving the road and entering the tall timber along the banks, we came to a stop, where we found many others were halted in a like manner. At last we found a suitable resting place. I took the precaution to unbuckle my bayonet belt, and pass it under my head for pillow, the bayonet scabbard under my rubber cloth. We were so exhausted from our long day’s march that our sleep must have been very sound, for, when I awakened, the sun was up, and my head flat on the ground. My belt had been unbuckled, and the bundle, containing coffee, sugar and tobacco, was stolen from under my head. Did I grow angry? Well, if my dear comrade, John Pritchard, is still alive, I would like for him to answer this! Fortunately for my sense of honor, no money had been given me to buy these articles, and the loss was, therefore, all my own.
Without a mouthful of breakfast we forded the stream; it was not deep, and we trudged along the dusty road and during the morning came to another point of the same river, where the railroad crossed on an iron bridge, and found it was being destroyed by some artillery command, to prevent its use by the enemy. Before night we were once more in the ranks of our own command, and felt a great relief. Very strict orders had been given by General Lee, that no property of any kind should be disturbed in passing through the enemy’s country, and, as our own wagon train was some distance in the rear, our rations were cut very short. Apples and green corn (when it could be had) were our principal diet. We passed through Frederick City on the morning of September 12, 1862, and the Twelfth Virginia made a handsome spectacle, as we marched through the streets, open order, arms resting on knapsacks. By this maneouvre [sic] four men abreast extended across the street, and caused our force to look much larger than it really was. Our next stopping point was the little town of Burkettsville, where we rested over night, and Saturday marched through Crampton’s Gap, in South Mountain, and camped in Pleasant Valley.

Sunday, September 14th, we received orders to retrace our march, re-crossing South Mountain, to defend the Gap against Franklin’s Corps, which was aiming to relieve the siege of Harper’s Ferry. I was nearly a mile from camp hunting for milk and bread, when I heard the drum corps beating the “long roll” and had to run fast to be in line when my name was called. The 12th was under the command of Lieutenant Col. Field, as Lieutenant Col. Fielding Taylor, though ill, was on the firing line and received a mortal wound. John Crow, of the Rifles, saved Col. Taylor’s gold-head cane by sticking it in the muzzle of his rifle as he retreated up the mountain.

All this was learned after my return from the North. I also learned that Leslie Spence, Ned Aikin, Captain Patterson and John Laughton were wounded same evening. General Thomas T. Munford, now eighty-six years old, living at “Oakland, ” near Union Town, Ala., on March 8, 1917, wrote me the following: “When I opened your letter, the Crampton’s Gap Fight, where you gave your blood, came back to me like a flash of lightning, revivifying the scenes that developed there as General Franklin moved out to attack the Gap.”I had orders to hold, with ten times our numbers visible. “To-day those scenes are forgotten, except by the handful who witnessed them — that campaign was  written in blood — as precious as soldiers could furnish, and General Lee’s audacity as a great soldier was never crowned more brilliantly.”

As we descended the mountain, we could see in the distance clouds of dust rising above the trees on the several roads leading to this point. Such an ominous sight made us feel that in a few hours a battle would be fought. I have never known how the 6th, 16th and 41st regiments were placed along the base of the mountain. I only know that the 12th was where the road diverged, right and left at the base. We were deployed eight feet apart; in order to extend our line as far as possible. We were behind a rail fence, with just enough distance from the road to lie down at full length, and rest our rifles on a low rail, where good aim could be taken. I suppose we were in position nearly as hour before the enemy’s advance column appeared in our front. About two hundred yards distant was another rail fence, a freshly fallowed field lying between us. We had strict orders not to fire until the enemy was in good rifle range. For fully ten or fifteen minutes after arriving at the point mentioned, they hesitated to make a charge on us. Finally a great cheering, as if greeting some welcome reinforcements, swelled along the line, and over the fence they clambered, and started for us at double quick time. When they had advanced about fifty yards, a deadly rifle fire hurled them back, leaving a line of killed and wounded. By the time they reached the point from which they started, another volley was poured into them. From these two opposite points, a desultory fire was kept for some time. Then another great cheering (more fresh troops) and over the fence they came again. I was in the act of firing my rifle when the cheering commenced [sic] ; and, seeing an officer with his hat lifted on the point of his sword, as he mounted the fence, I took deliberate aim, but the smoke of my rifle prevented my seeing what effect it had. I do know, however, that they moved only a few feet before they doubled back, and kept up their fire from behind the fence.

In the meantime, a battery of artillery in our rear was delivering a plunging fire of shot and shell into their ranks. Their force outnumbered our own so greatly that while we were holding them back in our front, they had lapped around our right and left for some distance ; when at a given signal they made a desperate rush upon our line. Though we popped our rifles as rapidly as possible, it seemed evident that we would soon be overwhelmed. When they were about twenty yards distant I was shot in the left arm, about three inches below the elbow, the bullet passing between the two bones, then through the elbow joint, and lodged in the muscle of the arm. I do not know whether it was the excitement, or what, but I felt no more pain at the time than if a brush had hit me; but the blood trickling to my finger tips, and the utter uselessness of or inability to move the arm, made me realize that it was broken, and before the enemy reached the fence I pulled myself into the road.

At this moment Cobb’s Georgians came to our relief, and enabled all who could, to escape, for they halted the enemy at the fence from which we had, only a few minutes before, been firing at them. While lying in the wheel rut of this road, with the Yankee guns not more than ten feet to my left, my face resting on my blood covered hand, I could not help thinking of the shocking sights seen after the battle of Manassas, for should a battery of artillery or a squadron of cavalry move I would be ground or trampled into an unrecognizable mass.

For fully ten minutes the bullets were hissing near my ears, and as soon as the enemy crossed over this road I held my shattered arm in my right, and took refuge in an old cooper shop near the roadside, where a number of Federal soldiers were making good use of several barrels of fresh cider. I passed by them, and seated myself on the back sill, feeling quite faint from the loss of blood. I was not there more than a minute when one of the number brought me a tin cup of the cider, addressing me as “Johnnie.” He seemed very much interested in my condition, and insisted on going with me to have my wound attended to. I was utterly amazed at this mark of kindness, and I soon followed him over the field, where many evidences of the effectiveness of our fire was seen. About midway my eyes rested on the finest canteen I had ever seen, and I hardly thought it would be violating the Tenth Commandment if I asked him to appropriate it for my use, and this he did most cheerfully.

I was taken to five operating “field” hospitals before a surgeon could be found, who could spare the time from their great number of wounded, to attend to me. In an apple orchard, near a brick house, about one mile in the rear of the battlefield, a very noble and kindly disposed Federal surgeon, about sixty years old, with a sharp knife ripped my sleeve open, and cut it off about two inches below the shoulder. Then for the first time I knew the course of the bullet heretofore mentioned. He wished me placed under the influence of chloroform, as it would be exceedingly painful to extract the bullet so firmly embedded in the muscles. I objected to this, and told him I preferred to stand the pain. An incision about two inches long was made through the ligaments, and fastening the forceps on the bullet, they failed to remove it, until the fourth or fifth effort. When it yielded to his strong arm, the blood flew in all directions. He crammed a bunch of lint into the opening. The next minute everything turned pitch dark and I lost consciousness for several minutes. When I recovered, this kind doctor was bathing my face in cool water, and had such a sympathetic countenance that I felt he was a friend. He remarked, in a pleasant manner, “Young man, you stood the operation bravely, but you pinched my leg blue.” After placing the bullet in a pan of water to wash off the blood, he handed it to me with the remark, “You can now see why that bullet was so difficult to remove.” The point was turned back like a brim of a “rough and ready hat.” My arm was neatly bandaged and I remained sitting, with my back resting against a tree in the apple orchard. The Union soldier who accompanied me from the battlefield had remained by me, and as it was about sundown he brought me a small bowl of corn meal gruel, which refreshed me very much.

 A little while later who should come up but one of my company comrades, W. C. Smith, who had been slightly wounded in the shoulder. He informed me that Thomas Morgan and George Bernard, of the Petersburg Rifles, and Charlie Pritchard, of my company, were wounded and fellow prisoners, but I did not see them until next day. I laid on the upper porch floor of the brick house that night, on a bed of loose straw, brought by this kind Federal soldier, who also brought a canteen of fresh water, which proved a great blessing, for my thirst was insatiate, and I could not sleep. On the same porch floor with me were six or seven wounded Federal soldiers, two of whom died before daybreak. Next morning my soldier friend brought me another bowl of gruel and a cup of coffee. About 10 o’clock all the wounded who were able to walk were marched to Burkettsville [sic], and a church was converted into a hospital.”

During his stay in Burkittsville, Brown would find himself in very crowded conditions as surgeons worked feverishly to tend to the wounded. From here, he can clearly hear the distant rumbling of artillery and musketry as intense fighting takes place at near Sharpsburg. He also, successfully, fends off the surgeon’s knife as he is told the his arm must be amputated. He manages to remove himself from the hopsital and into the care of a private citizen who tends to his wound and saves his arm, for the time being. Eventually, he recovers enough to be placed on a train in Frederick and taken to Fort McHenry in Baltimore where he is paroled and awaits exchange. After being exchanged and sent to Richmond, his wound is not fully healed and becomes rather infected. After a quick surgery by a family doctor, fragments of clothe and bone are taken out of the wound. Luckily for Brown, he receives an honorable discharge from the Confederate Army due to the nature of his wound, his elbow being crooked. He would work in a Richmond hotel for the remainder of the war, witnessing its fall in the Spring of 1865.


Sources:
Brown, Phillip F.  1917.  Reminiscences of the War of 1861 – 1865. Richmond, VA: Whittet & Shepperson Printers. Google Books: Phillip F. Brown

"The whole division went in "with a yell.": An Ohioan describes the fight for Fox's Gap and other aspects of the Maryland Campaign

The following is a letter written by an unknown soldier in the 11th Ohio Infantry. The only clue is the initials "J.D.K." at the end of the letter.  In this letter, he describes his regiment setting out on the campaign into Maryland and tells of the fighting at Frederick, South Mountain, and Antietam. It appeared in the Dayton Daily Empire in October 1862.

Camp Burnsides, Md. Sept 30, 1862

Friend Joe:--Having as yet failed to see any notice of the part of the 11th Regiment O.V.I., took in the recent hard fought battle in Maryland, I will endeavor to give you a brief history of the ordeal through which they passed in the memorable battles of South Mountain and Antietam.

Gen'l Cox's Division (better known as the Kanawha Division) left Munson's Hill, Va. on the 6th of Sept: and crossed the Potomac over the Georgetown Aqueduct, marching through Georgetown and Washington City, and encamped in Maryland, a few miles from the Captal. On the next day we marched to Leesborough, where we encamped for the night. On the next morning we received the disagreeable news that our transportation was to be reduced to six wagons; three of those were to haul the ammunition and one for field officers, another for the Medical Department, and one for the Quartermaster's Department. Leaving us poor private "individuals" narry waggon with which to haul our cooking utensils. In consequence of this change every man had to carry his own rations for three days in his haversack, and also his cooking utensils; and take into consideration a knapsack, heavy loaded haversack, cartridge box with a hundred rounds, gun, etc. all making a respectable load for a pack mule, you have a pretty good idea of what a soldier has to carry on the march. It was a kind of " Stunner" on the line officers, for it compelled them for once, to pack their own "bed and board" on their backs. At night, when we camped, we found it very inconvenient, as every man had to do his own cooking and in order to make a cup of coffee you had first to brown the coffee, then smash it with a stone, then cook it, which generally took from dark until "tatoo." But enough of this; let's now on to Frederick City.

After one days march we reached Ridgville, 24 miles from Frederick, the enemies pickets having just left before our entrance. We stacked arms just outside this village, and camped for the night. Ridgville is situated in a beautiful country. There are some splendid orchards in its immediate vicinity, and the nice peaches and apples the I saw makes my mouth water whenever I think of them. There were such stringent orders against taking any thing in the fruit line that, viz.---"Any solder caught in the orchard, potato patch, corn field, etc without permission, will be arrested, Court Martialed, and if found guilty--Shot"--General Order. 

On our march from Ridgeville to Frederick I saw a soldier arrested for attempting to steal an old goose. The chap was in a field after a flock of geese and he had just succeeded in overhauling an old goose, when Gen'l Rodney and Staff came riding by and discovered the scamp, and thereby saved old Mrs. Goose's life, by ordering the fellow arrested, sent to the rear, and to be tied fast to the wagon until further orders. I never heard whether the offender was shot or not, but as geese don't come under the head of peaches, apples or potatoes, I don't think he was.

We past through New Market, six miles from Frederick, and on passing through we passed the Pennsylvania Reserves, who had arrived there an hour before us by another road. I noticed among them a good many new Regiments, some not a month yet in the service. They were soon destined to smell gunpowder, for some of the new Pennsylvania Regiments suffered terribly in the battle of Antietam, as their lists of killed and wounded show. 

It was reported along the road that the enemy had blown up the Stone Bridge across the Monocacy and were prepared to dispute our passage across that river, but this was found on approaching the bridge to be false, as the bridge was still there, and the enemies pickets had just been driven across it. They had a peice of Artilery posted in a ploughed field, on a hill, opposite the bridge, supported by a regiment of cavalry, a couple of our guns soon shelled them out, however, and they retired in the direction of Frederick closely pursued by our cavalry. During this skirmish Gen. Burside's made his appearance for the first time, and was vociferously cheered by all the troops along the line. He was accompanied by his Staff and body guard. He proceeded immediately to the front, I supposed to see what was up. The enemies pickets having been driven into town we advanced for the purpose of driving the enemy through Frederick, which our generals had found out, was only held by a brigade of Stewarts Cavalry and a battery of four guns. Gen. Cox's Division being in the advance was ordered to advance and take possession of Frederick---The first brigade was formed in line of battle on the right of the road and the 36th and 28th formed on the left. The 11th kept the road. Two peices of artilery were in the advance of the 11th, supported by a squadron of cavalry. Thus formed the whole line advance toward the town. The cavalry ahead met with some resistance at the edge of town by the enemy who were concealed behind houses and kept up a brisk fire for a while. Col. Moore, who commands our brigade, placed himself at the head of Gilmore's Chicago Cavalry and ordered them to charge. Away they went into town the artilery following close after. The 11th was then ordered up double quick, and when we arrived at the edge of town we were all out of breath, having come double quick for two miles. Gilmore's Cavalry having charged into town and not discovering the enemy supposed the town clear, but in this they were mistaken, for suddenly out of a street, leading on to Main street, came a large body of the enemies cavalry. They immediately came sweeping down on out cavalry, so sudden as to through them into confusion and force them back on our artilery who were in the street, with their guns in position, ready to rake the street when Gilmore's cavalry would get out of the way, some of the horses became unmanageable and one horse ran over the man holding the "Laneard" of a 12-pound Howitzer, loaded with canister, which caused the gun to go off sending the whole load of canister into our own men and horses. Wounding several of the men and killing eight or nine horses. Among the number was Lieutenat Chas. Akoff, of Col. Moore's Staff, who had his horse killed under him, and was himself badly bruised up by the fall. Col. Moore was taken prisoner, and the enemy had taken our guns and were preparing to haul them off, when just at this moment the 11th arrived at the edge of town. Col. Coleman seeing at a glance the situation of affairs gave the following order: "By companies into line. Now boy's I want you to take those guns. Forward, charge bayonetts." In one moment the guns were recaptured and the enemy were driven out of Frederick at the point of the bayonett. A number of prisoners were taken in this charge. Our acting Brigadier General Colonel Moore who was taken prisoner was paroled the next day. We encamped near Frederick that night. 

On the 13th, General Rodney's (Rodman) Division took the advance, and skirmished with the enemy's rear guard, driving them through Middletown and across Middle Creek, over which the enemy burnt the bridge, and then retreated to South Mountain, where there were a large force of the enemy. On Sunday morning the 14th, Cox again took the advance, and moved on with his division towards South Mountain. Our artillery took position on the hills looking towards the Gap, through which ran the turnpike and commenced shelling the Gap and woods to ascertain the enemy's position, in the meantime we were sent to flank them on the left, their position being now accurately ascertained, and passed through a strip of woods immediately under the batteries, they shelled us at the same time, but without effect, we gained a position in an open field upon a slope of the Mountain. A few moments were now spent in the maneuvering the different regiments into position. The 11th were sent into a cornfield to draw the enemy's fire, while the 12th and 23d regiments, were in readiness to charge. The 11th had advanced but a short distance into the cornfield when they received a murderous volley from the enemy who were concealed behind stone walls on their right and in their front, which subjected to a terrific cross fire, wounding a great number and killing a few. Almost simultaneously the 12th and 23d charged down the hill with a yell, and rushing upon  the stone wall, engaged the 12th and 23d North Carolina Regiments. A desperate hand to hand fight took place, which lasted but a few moments and ended in the utter rout of the enemy. The enemy suffered severely in this charge. On examination most of their dead were found to have been killed by the bayonet. A number of persons were taken in this charge. The 11th were withdrawn from the cornfield and formed into line of battle, ready for the struggle next to come, which was not far off. Lieut. George Croome,  was shot by a musket ball in this action, while in the act of charging one of his guns with a load of canister. He died in a short time after. 

The enemy having been driven from their first position were next discovered in a narrow lane, protected by a stone wall, in front of which were posted their batteries. The position was a strong one, and one of their own choice, and as our artillery could not be brought into action owing to the nature of the ground, it looked next to impossible to dislodge the enemy. Gen. Cox formed his division into line and ordered a charge, (the only way to move them out from behind stone walls.) Everything now being ready the word charge was given and the bugle sounded and the whole division went in "with a yell" and a terrific encounter ensued, desperate fighting on both sides with bayonets for some time when at length the enemy gave way in confusion, retreating in all directions. Their lose in this charge was terrible, the ground lay strewed with rebel dead. Their loss in dead on our flank was 1000 and the wounded three times that number, also a great number of prisoners. The gallant and lamented Col. Coleman here performed a daring act which I think worth mentioning. After this charge was made the 11th and 28th were obliged to fall back a short distance as an overwhelming force of the enemy's cavalry and infantry were advancing. A number of our men got separated from their companies and were taken prisoners. Instead of the enemy taking them to the rear, they kept them remaining on the field, one of their officers remarking that "it was no use to be in a hurry for they would have a lot more in a moment," but in that next moment the column of rebel infantry and cavalry were repulsed and routed. Col. Coleman rode ahead of the regiment and before he knew it rode straight into the rebels who had our men prisoners. The Col. seeing he was in a bad snap, he being entirely alone at the time, concluded to put a bold face on the matter, so he drew his sword, and asked our men in a loud voice, "What are you doing there?" "Why, Colonel we are prisoners." "Prisoners," roared the Colonel, "get your arms immediately!" Then going up to the crown he told the rebels that if they didn't surrender immediately he'd cut them to pieces. The rebels thought of course that the Colonel had a force somewhere near and surrendered. There were 23 of them. The enemy being now driven from all their strong positions on the mountain, Gen. Cox;s division stopped for rest, having been engaged with the enemy since 8 o'clock in the morning. Such is a synopsis of the fighting on our left at South Mountain. The rebel loss in killed was very heavy. They lost three to our one. In the narrow lane behind the stonewall their dead lay in heaps. There were 58 dead rebels thrown down an old well and covered up. Some of the boys out of our company were detailed to bury the dead. And did not again arrive to the regiment until after the Battle of Antietam. 

After resting on the battle-field until 4 o'clock the next day, we again took up our line of march towards Antietam creek, fighting the enemy every step of the way. 

On Tuesday, there was a brisk artillery duel for over two hours' duration, there being a great number of guns engaged on both sides. But the enemy were compelled to abandon their position and fall back across Antietam creek, where the combined forces of Jackson, Longstreet and Hill were ready to give us battle.

On Tuesday, the whole day was spent in forming a Line of Battle. There was sharp Artillery firing at long range, in which we had decidedly the advantage, owing to our superiority in guns. The enemy occupied the heights across Antietam Creek and had their forces so disposed as make their position a strong one. The line of battle extended nine miles from right to left. Cox's division were in the advance on the left on Tuesday evening. The 2nd brigade, 36th, 28th, and 11th under Col. Crook, laid along the side of a hill, the enemy shelling them from different batteries for about an hours, wounding some 5 or 6. Owing to the nature of the ground which Col. Crook selected but few were hurt, although shells burst over their heads at the rate of two per minute.

On Wednesday morning early the great battle of Antietam commenced and in a few moments it became general all along the line. The 11th Conn, 11th regulars, and 11th Ohio, opened the battle on the left. Three Companies of the 11th Ohio being thrown out as skirmishers. Col. Coleman was mortally wounded early in the engagement while deploying the men as skirmishers. No braver man fell on that bloody field. He was always found, in time of danger, at the head of his regiment. He never was known to say "Go boys," but it was always " Come on Boys." He has been with us since our organization at Camp Dennison, and the men placed the utmost confidence in him. Our part of the programme was to force a passage over a narrow stone bridge which spanned the Antietam, directly in front of the heights, occupied by the rebels. The fight at this place was for awhile terrible, but finally our troops charged, took the bridge and drove the enemy from the heights. 

Had the troops that made this charge been supported in time they would have captured the enemies batteries. Some of the men had their hands already on the guns; and had it not been for a new regiment, only three weeks in the service, giving way in the center, the enemy would have been completely routed and their guns captured, as it was they were forced to relinquish a part of the ground they had gained. 

Our part of the programmed being accomplished we had only to hold our position which we did until relieved by fresh troops. Every house, barn, and haystack for miles around were converted into hospitals, and which were crowded to excess. All along the whole line the ground was strewen with dead and wounded. On the right where the enemy massed their troops in solid column, their dead lay in heaps. They lay side by side just as they stood in line of battle. It was been the hardest battle fought during the war, and the rebels were beaten. A good many believe that if the battle had been renewed the next day that the whole rebel army would have been captured but McClellan knew his own business best, and I suppose that if the thing could have "been did" he would have done it.

The following is the list of killed and wounded in Company A, 11th Regiment:
Killed--John Hammon---Antietam
wounded at South Monutain---John Kramer in the leg; James Wyrick, shot in hip; Milyon Smith, shoulder; Robert Frank, in the leg; Lieut. Johnson, slightly. 
                                                                             J.D.K.

Sources:

1. J.D.K. Dayton daily empire. (Dayton [Ohio]), 17 Oct. 1862. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress. <http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026002/1862-10-17/ed-1/seq-2/>

"Many of our men were falling...": Recollection of Rufas Dawes, 6th Wisconsin Infantry

Rufus Dawes

 In the late afternoon hours of September 14th, what would become known as the Iron Brigade would advance directly against the Confederate defenses holding Turner's Gap. Major Rufus Dawes, as part of the 6th Wisconsin Infantry, would participate in the assault. He would write about his experiences during the war and they would be published in 1890. The following is an excerpt covering the regiments march through Frederick and into battle on the 14th, the night after the battle, and the pursuit on the 15th.

"Our camp on the quiet Sabbath morning of September 14, 1862, was in the valley of the Monocacy, new Frederick, Maryland. There are few fairer landscapes in our country than this valley affords from its eastern range of hills. The morning was bright, warm, and clear. The bells of the city of Frederick were all ringing. It was a rejoicing at the advent of the host of her deliverance, the Army of the Potomac. The spires of the city were glistening in the morning sunlight. To the south-west could be distinctly heard the muttering of cannon. This was General Stonewall Jackson attacking the garrison at Harper's Ferry. From right to left along the valley below us, were stretched the swarming camps of the blue coats, and every soldier felt his courage rise at the sight. Through a wooded and uneven country, by different and devious routes, the columns of the grand army had marched forward. We had known something of their progress, but had not so felt their power as we did now when they were concentrating before us. The deep feeling of almost affectionate admiration among the solders for the commander of our army, General McClellan, was often thus expressed: "We have got a General now, and we will show the country what we can do."

At eight o'clock A.M., our brigade marched forward on the National turnpike, the sixth Wisconsin in advance. Our entry into the city was triumphal. The stars and stripes floated from every building and hung from every window. The joyful people thronged the streets to greet and cheer the veterans of the Army of the Potomac. Little children stood at nearly every door, freely offering cool water, cakes, pies, and dainties. The jibes and insults of the women of Virginia, to which our men had become accustomed, had here a striking contrast in a generous and enthusiastic welcome by the ladies of Frederick City. At eleven A.M. we reached the summit of the Katoctin mountain. Fences and trees showed marks of a skirmish of the evening before. From the summit of this mountain a splendid view was spread before us, in the valley of Middleton. Over beyond the valley, eight miles away, from along the slopes of the South Mountain, we could see arising the smoke of battle. We hurried  along down the road toward the scene of action, every gun of which we could see and hear. Our march through the little village of Middleton was almost a counterpart of our reception at Frederick City. The people were more excited as the cannon boomed loud and near, and bloodstained soldiers were coming in from the field of battle. Hearing that a colonel of an Ohio regiment had been brought in to Middleton, wounded, I made a special inquiry and found that it was Lieutenant Colonel Hayes of the 23rd Ohio (Rutherford B. Hayes). We marched on beyond Middleton about a mile and a half and then turned into a field to make our coffee. The fires were not kindled, when an order came to fall in and move forward. It was announced that General Hooker had said "that the crest of that mountain must be carried to-night." General Hatch's division turned from the National road toward the right, but an order was recieved assigning Gibbon's brigade to a special duty. The brigade countermarched and advanced again on the National road for half a mole. We then turned to the left into a field and formed two lines of battle. The seventh Wisconsin and nineteenth Indiana were in the front line; the second and sixth Wisconsin in the second line. We had in the ranks of our regiment for hundred men. Simmon's Ohio battery, planted in this field, was firing shell at the rebels on the summit of South Mountain. Before us was a valley, beyond which by a steep and stony slope, rose the South Mountain range. From our position to the summit of South Mountain was perhaps two miles. Two miles away on our right, long lines and heavy columns of dark blue infantry could be seen pressing up the green slopes of the mountain, their bayonets flashing like silver in the rays of the setting sun, and their banners waving in beautiful relief against the background of green. 

Battle of South Mountain

Turner's gap through which the National turnpike passes over the mountain, was directly in our front. To attack this pass was the special duty for which we had been selected. To our left along the wooded slopes, there was a crash of musketry, and the roll of cannon, and a white cloud of battle smoke rose above the trees. From Turner's gap in our front, and along the right on the summit of the mountain, the artillery of the enemy was firing, and we could see the shells bursting over and among our advancing troops. For nearly an hour we laid upon the grassy knoll, passive spectators of the scene. The sun was sinking behind the mountain, when our order came to move forward. 

The two regiments in front (7th Wisconsin and 19th Indiana) moved in line of battle. Our regiment and the 2nd Wisconsin followed at supporting distance, formed in double columns. Thus we went down into the valley and began to climb the slope of the mountain, which was smooth at first and covered with orchards and cornfields. The regiment was halted in an orchard and two companies ("B" Captain Rollin P. Converse and "K" Lieutenant John Ticknor) were sent forward as skirmishers. Our skirmishers immediately encountered skirmishers of the enemy and drove them slowly up the mountain, fighting for every inch of the ground. Nothing could be finer than the conduct of these two companies, or more gallant than the bearing of their young leaders. The officer commanding the skirmishers of the second Wisconsin, Captain Wilson Colwell, was killed.

For half a mile of advance, our skirmishers played a deadly game of "Bo-peep," hiding behind logs, fences, rocks and bushes. Two pieces of artillery of battery "B" moved up on the turnpike under Lieutenant James Stewart, and when the skirmishers were checked, they would wheel into action and fire shell at the houses, barns, or thickets, where the rebels found a cover. The enemy now turned upon us the fire of their batteries, planted in the pass near the mountain top, but their shot flew over. 

General Gibbon mounted upon his horse and riding upon high ground where he could see his whole line, shouted orders in a voice loud and clear as a bell and distinctly heard throughout the brigade. It was always "Forward! Forward!" Just at dusk we came to a rough, stony field, skirted on its upper edge by timber. Our skirmishers had encountered the enemy in force and were behind a fence. The seventh Wisconsin in front of us, climbed the fence and moved steadily forward across the field and we followed them, our regiment being formed in double column. Suddenly the seventh Wisconsin halted and opened fire, and we could see a rabid spitting of musketry flashes from the woods above and in front of us, and wounded men from the seventh began to hobble by us. The sharpest fire came from a stonewall, running along in a ravine toward the left of the seventh. Captain John B. Callis was in command of that regiment. He ordered a change of front, throwing his right forward to face the wall; but there burst from the woods, skirting the right of the field, a flame of musketry which sent a shower of bullets into the backs of the men of the right wing of the seventh Wisconsin. Many men were shot by the enfilading fire to which they could make no reply. Captin Hollon Richardson came running towards us shouting: "Come forward, sixth!" Sharp and clear rang out on the night, the voice of Bragg: "Deploy column! By the right and left flanks, double quick, march!" The living machine responded to this impulsive force with instant action, and the column was deployed into line of battle. The right wing of our regiment came into open field, but the left wing was behind the seventh. "Major!" order Bragg, "Take command of the right wing and fire on the woods!" I instantly ordered:
"Attention, right wing, ready, right oblique, aim, fire, load at will, load!" The roll of this wing volley had hardly ceased to reverberate, when Bragg said: "Have your men lie down on the ground, I am going over you." "Right wing, lie down! Look out, the left wing is going over you!" was the command. Bragg had brought the left wing behind the right wing and he ordered them forward over the ment of the right wing as they laid upon the ground. The left wing fired a volley into the woods, and the right wing advanced in the same manner over them and fired a volley into the woods. Once more Bragg gave a volley by the left wing. There were four volleys by wing given, at the word of command. In a long experience in musketry fighting, this was the single instance I saw of other than a fire by file in battle. The characteristic of Colonel Bragg in battle was a remarkably quick conception and instant action. The conduct of the men was worthy of their commander. In the deployment of the column under fire, they hurried over the rough and stony field with the utmost zeal, and while many men were struck by the bullets of the enemy, there was neither hesitation nor confusion. After the four volleys by wing and a welcome cheer by the seventh Wisconsin, there was positive enthusiasm. Our whole line was slowly advanced up the mountain, the men shouting and firing. The rebels behind the stone wall and i the timber shout: "O, you d---d Yanks, we gave you h--ll again at Bull Run!" Our men would shout back: "Never mind Johnny, its no McDowell after you now. 'Little Mac' and 'Johnny Gibbon' are after you now." The rebels fell back from the woods, but stuck to the stone wall. The hostile lines had approached each other closely and the fire was deadly. It was dark and our only aim was by the flashes of the enemy's guns. Many of our men were falling, and we could not long endure it. Colonel Bragg took the left wing, directing me to keep up the fire with the right wing, and crept up into the woods on our right, advancing a considerable distance up the mountain. He gained higher ground than that of the enemy in our front, and from this position opened fire. 

Colonel Bragg directed me to join him with the right wing. Owing to the thick brush and the darkness of the night, it was a difficult matter to scramble up the stony side of the mountain. To add to our difficulties, the rebels opened fire upon us; but our gallant left wing fired hotly in return and the junction was completed. Our cartridges were getting short and our guns were dirty with bad powder. Gradually by direction of Colonel Bragg we ceased firing and lay still on the ground. A man in company "A" exclaimed: "Captain Noyes, I am out of cartridges!" It is likely that the enemy in the woods above us heard him, for they immediately opened upon us a heavy fire. We returned the fire, and for a short time the contest was very sharp. This was the last of the battle. When all was again still, Colonel Bragg felt sure that he could here the enemy withdrawing. He ordered, "Three cheers for the Badger State." They were given and brought no reply. A few volunteer skirmishers crept forward into the woods in front of us. Further pursuit was impossibly. We were nearly out of ammunition and our guns so dirty that we could hardly use them. We lay among thing bushes on the steep rough slope of a mountain in almost total darkness. 

We did not dare to let the men sleep. Colonel Bragg sent to General Gibbon for ammunition. General Gibbon replied that it was impossible for him to furnish it, but that he hoped that we would soon be relieved by other troops. He said that we must hold the position we had gained so long as there was "an inch of our bayonets left." The night was chilly, and in the woods intensely dark. Our wounded were scattered over a great distance up and down the mountain, and were suffering untold agonies. Owing to the difficulties of the ground and the night, no stretcher bearers had come upon the field. Several dying men were pleading piteously for water, of which there was not a drop in the regiment, nor was there any liquor. Captain Kellogg and I searched in vain for a swallow for our noble fellow (William Lawrence, Co. I) who dying in great agony from a wound in his bowels. He recognized us and appreciated our efforts, but was unable to speak. The dread reality of war was before us in this frightful death, upon the cold, hard stones. The mortal suffering, the fruitless struggle to send a parting message to the far off home, and the final release by death, all enacted in the darkness, were felt even more deeply than if the scene had been relieved by the light of day. After a long interval of this horror, our stretcher bearers came, and the poor suffering heroes were carried back to houses and barns. At last word came that General Sumner's troops were marching up the mountain to relieve us. How glade we were to hear it, they only can know who have experienced the feeling of prostration produced by such scenes and surroundings, after the excitement of a bloody battle. It was after midnight, and it seemed to us bitterly cold. The other regiments of our brigade had marched down the mountain, but our relief--where was it? We sent Adjutant Brooks to General Gibbon, who said that our relief had been ordered, and would certainly come. But it did not come. Colonel Bragg finally sent Adjutant Brooks to Brigadier General Willis A. Gorman, the brigade commander, who had orders to relieve us. The Adjutant reported that he offered to lead the war to prevent the possibility of confusion or mistake, but that General Gorman's reply was:" I can't send men into that woods to-night. All men are cowards in the dark." He forgot that the men whom he condemned to shivering and misery for the rest of the night had fought and won a bloody battle in the dark. We were not relieved until eight o'clock in the morning of September 15th, when the 2nd New York regiment of Gorman's brigade came up. As soon as it became daylight, we examined the field of battle, and found many dead and wounded rebels. The troops opposed to us were five regiments of a brigade commanded by Colonel A.H. Colquitt, the 6th, 23rd, 26th, and 28th Georgia, and 13th Alabama regiments. One rebel soldier from Georgia, wounded in the head, his face a gore of blood, fled from us as we approached. We could hardly persuade him that it was not our purpose to kill him. 

General George B. McClellan was stationed in the same field where Simmon's Ohio battery was planted and he had watched our brigade in the engagement. He wrote the following to the Governor of Wisconsin: " I beg to add my great admiration of the conduct of the three Wisconsin regiments in General Gibbon's brigade. I have seen them under fire acting in a manner that reflects the greatest possibly credit and honor upon themselves and their stated. They are equal to the best troops in any army in the world."

After being relieved by the second New York we marched down the mountain to the National turnpike and the men began to build fires to make coffee and cook their breakfast, but we were ordered to march immediately to the Mountain House on the top of South Mountain. It was hard, but the men fell in promptly and marched along munching dry hard tack. It was now 24 hours since they had had their coffee. Our brigade was put by General Hooker in the advance in the pursuit of the enemy and our regiment marched at the head of the column. We pushed along the turnpike down the western slope of the mountain. Presently old gray haired men, citizens of Maryland, came rushing up to meet us. They seemed almost frantic with joy. They swung their hats and laughed and cried without regard for appearances. Once respectable old gentleman who trotted along beside my horse said; " We have watched for you, Sir, and we have prayed for you and now thank God you have come."

Here his feelings got the better of him and he mounted a bank and began to shout. The last I saw of him, he was shouting and thanking God and the 19th Indiana was responding with lusty cheers. As we approached the village of Boonsboro, it seemed deserted, but when our column entered the streets, doors and windows flew open and the people thronged out to greet us. Flags that had been hidden in the darkest corner were now unfurled. These people informed us that the rebel infantry had passed through the town in haste and in much disorder. Colonels were in some cases, they said, carrying regimental banners. They said that General Lee was present when the retreat commenced. We turned to the left in Boonsboro toward Antietam Creek."
 

Two days later, Dawes and comrades would find themselves in the maelstrom that was David Miller's cornfield now known as The Cornfield. Dawes would survive the fighting at Antietam and go to serve in the Army of the Potomac until the summer of 1864 when he mustered out of service. He would be made a brevet Brigadier General of Volunteers in 1866 to date from March 1865. After the war, he would serve on the board of trustees for Marietta College and serve one term in the US House of Representatives. He would pass away in 1899.



Dawes, Rufus Robinson, Service with the Sixth Wisconsin Volunteers, Marietta (OH): E.R. Alderman & Sons, 1890. Available online at archives.org here.

"At this time, I received a gunshot wound near the knee-joint, which whirled me over...": Captain Abraham Hunter, 23rd Ohio Infantry

The following is a letter published in the Clevaland Morning Leader on October 1, 1862. Written by Captain Andrew Hunter,  commanding a company in the 23rd Ohio Infantry. Hunter had enlisted in the 23rd as a thirty-two year old first lieutenant in Company K in June 1861. In February 1862, he would be promoted to captain of Company D. Writing from Middletown, he would report back on the status of men from Company K and his experiences during the march in Maryland and the fighting at South Mountain. He would also write about the morale of the wounded in the hospital in Middletown where he was recuperating from a wound he received during the 23rd's charge at South Mountain. He also includes a list of casualties from Company K. Captain Hunter recover from his wound but tragically, he would be killed in action at the Battle of Cloyd's Mountain on May 9, 1864.

From the 23rd Ohio Regiment

Middleton, Md., Sept. 22d, 1862

Since I last wrote you from Flat Top Mountain, Va., our regiment, with four other Ohio regiments, composing General Cox's brigage, have seen some rough times. We left Western Virginia on the 14th of August, reached Washington on the 25th, proceeded immediately to Alexandria, from there to Upton's Hill, where we remained during the late battles at Manassas. Our reverses there did not discourage our men in the least. All they desired was to be led froward to meet the enemy, whose invasion of Maryland causes us to retrace our steps to Washington, through which we marched and joined General Burnside's division, which was en route toward Fredrick City, Maryland.

We reached Frederick on the 12th, our division being in advance; we had a skirmish with the enemy's rear guard, composed of artillery and cavalry. The rebels disputed our approach to the city for some time, but soon left us to take quite possession. On entering, our troops were loudly cheered, and at almost every window the ladies waved the stars and stripes. Such demonstrations of loyalty I never before witnessed, especially by the ladies. The next day we marched to the town, encamped for the night in sight of the enemy's camp on the South Mountain, three miles from here, where they made a stand.

At daybreak the next morning our bugles awoke us to prepare for the contest. Our division was in advance on the left, and our regiment, which was sent through the woods, coming suddenly upon a division of the enemy's right--was the first to commence the engagement. For three or four hours the struggle was severe; every foot of ground was disputed on both sides. At first we found it extremely difficult in the thick brush we were in to take sure aim, besides the enemy occupied a small eminence on which was a stone wall behind which they took shelter. I am unable to give you a correct idea of the position of our regiments during the day. The 12th and 30th were in a line with us on the right, and we had each of us enough to do to mind our own business. 

At last the order was given to form line at the base of the hill, which, when done, we lay on our arms, and gradually advanced on our hands and knees up the slope until within a short distance of the stone wall, when the order rand along the line, "Up and charge!" I have seen charges made before by old soldiers, but nothing could surpass the Ohio boys in this charge. Every man sprang to his feet, and with a while yell, rushed forward upon the foe. Bayonets clashed for a moment or two, when the rebels took to their heels in great disorder, leaving behind piles of dead and wounded, and some two hundred prisoners. 

At this time, I received a gunshot wound near the knee-joint, which whirled me over, and which prevented me from sharing with my brave comrades in the desperate fight on Wednesday, where they suffered severely. Our loss is heavy both in officers and men. Our loss is supposed to be 250 in killed, wounded, and missing, but I rejoice to know that the rebels have got a good thrashing for once, at least.

It is gratifying amid all these scenes of danger and suffering to observe with what spirits the men bear up. In the Hospital the other day, where the wounded were lying, one who is an expert performer on the banjo commenced playing and singing a comic song, which made his wounded companions, in spite of their sufferings, laugh heartily. His name is William Brown, son of respectable parents in Elyria. He is wounded severely in the side; and by the way, there is a young boy from Clevaland whom I observed behave with great coolness in the battle on Sunday. His name is Edward Brooks, son of Dr. Brooks, West Side. A ball had grazed his wrist, and by some means he had lost sight of his company at the time we were about to charge. He begged to be allowed to fall in along with our boys. The last I saw of him he was fighting his way manfully amid the thickest of the ranks. I believe he is well and uninjured. 

I have forwarded you a list of casualties in my company, so that the friends of Company K who live in the vicinity of Cleveland may know the fate of their relatives, knowing your paper to have a large circulation in Lorain, where Company K was raised:

Serg't Thomas G. Wells, killed; Serg't Jos. Wagner, killed; Corp'l H. Fitts, wounded; Corp'l E. Herrick, wounded; Corp'l. DeGrass Chapman, wounded, Corp'l B.F. Burns, missing; W.R. Terril, wounded; Seward Abel, wounded; Joseph Mitchell, wounded; E. Campbell, wounded; Jacob Bollinger, wounded; J. King, wounded; William Brown, wounded; Jacob Brown, wounded; F. Sammis, wounded; G. Schernes, wounded; J. Hill,wounded; J. Springer, wounded; Albert Squires, wounded; F. Squires, wounded; and among the wounded; is your correspondent, A.A. Hunter, Captain Co. K, 23 Reg't. O.V.I.

Source:

Captain Abraham Hunter. "From the 23d Ohio Regiment" Cleveland Morning Leader, October 1, 1862. Accessed October 14, 2012, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83035143/1862-10-01/ed-1/seq-2/

"I have never been able to account for my escape." : Reminiscence of Hugh W. Barclay, 23rd Georgia

 

On September 14, 1862, Lt. Hugh W. Barclay of Company B, 23rd Georgia Infantry would find himself in position with his company, taking cover behind a sturdy stonewall on the eastern slope of South Mountain. Barclay's mission, along with the rest of Alfred Colquitt's brigade, was to hold the line protecting Turner's Gap, preventing Union forces from gaining control of the gap and severely jeopardizing the Confederate position.  In the following passage, Barclay describes the intense struggle between Colquitt's brigade and John Gibbon's midwesterner's of the Iron Brigade, including the death of a fellow officer and the wounding of his brother, E.S. Barclay of the Phillips Georgia Legion.  This is only an excerpt dealing with the fighting on South Mountain, the whole piece covers Barclay's service during the war as told to his niece.

We rested one day at Frederick and continued our march to Hagerstown where went into camp. This was Saturday the 13th of September 1862, and that evening the cavalry reported the enemy not far away. 

Next morning, Sunday the 14th, we marched back a few miles to South Mountain, formed line of battle and waited the coming of McClellan's advance. About 3 o' clock in the evening the pickets began firing, the position of the 23rd Geo. Was about half way down the mountain to the left of the road, seven companies of which were behind a rock fence and the other three companies D.E. & B, exposed, my company B. one of them. The Yankees advanced in great force, and seemingly with much assurance. For a while we three companies made it as warm as possible for them, but soon we were shot out. In fifteen minutes with 32 men in my company, 23 were killed and wounded, five dead on the field. The other companies, D & E, suffered in about the same ratio. I have never been able to account for my escape. We were lying flat on the ground and upon our knees to shoot. Sergent Price by whose side I was lying, and who is now, if living, a Baptist preacher, in North Georgia, received several wounds, and a man on my right was shot in the forehead, fell dead across me. When my company was shot out, I got behind a big rock which was in line with the regiment behind the rock fence and there I found Lt. Steel of Company D. We were lying side by side looking at the blaze of fire from the men behind the rick fence and listening to the hurrahs of the Yankees who made charge after charge when an occasional bullet came up the line our way. Lt. Steel remarked, "They have flanked the regiment on their right and we will be captured". I told him I thought not or hoped not, when just then I heard the dull thud of the bullet that hit him, and he said "I am killed". He never moved, and the bullet that hit him, must have entered his heart. It must have gone over me or under me for I was nearest the direction from whence it came. This battle, much of it, was at night, as late as 9 o' clock it must have lasted. The regiment behind the rock fence were about out of ammunition, and fortunately about this time the Yankees ceased firing. Our troops away to the right were giving away and word was passed up the line to quietly slip away which the men did, and the regiment escaped capture. The loss here to the regiment was confined principally to the three companies. Away to our right we suffered considerably, losing many men and officers, and among the latter, my brother, E.S. Barclay, Lt. Col. Phillips, Geo. Legion who was seriously wounded, and though he lived a year or so thereafter, never recovered. The enemy, some of our men said who were wounded and captured said the Yankees loss in front of the rock wall was about 300 killed, including the Federal General Reneau(Reno). Gen. Hill rode up to Gen. Colquitt during the fight and asked what regiment that was down there and said they would be captured.

Brother William was proud of the conduct of his regiment that night. In his report of that battle, General Hill called Brother the hero of South Mountain. This battle was made necessary to the assembling of the army for the great battle of Sharpsburg which followed the next Tuesday and Wednesday. All that Sunday night we marched, passing through the village of Sharpsburg and went into camps on the banks of the Potomac. After the close calls I had in this battle, it would seem I never should have been scared thereafter. . .

Sources:

  Unknown,  Barclay Reminiscence . http://196thovi.tripod.com/23rdgeorgiainfantry/id34.html [accessed August 15, 2012.] 

Unknown, Barclay photo . [accessed August 15, 2012]

"Well, captain, your men fight like devils..."

The following excerpt is from the memoirs of Sergeant Archibald F. Hill of the 8th Pennsylvania Reserves that were published in 1866. Sergeant Hill enlisted in the 8th Pennsylvania Reserves regiment as a private in June 1861 and was promoted to corporal in July 1861 and eventually to sergeant in May 1862. He would serve with the regiment on the Peninsula and would find himself in the fight at South Mountain. He would survive the battle, but three days later at Antietam, he would be wounded in the leg as his regiment advanced to a point just to the north of the Cornfield. Archibald would be carried by his comrades in a blanket to an ambulance that was awaiting just beyond the regiments bivouac beyond the North Woods. He would be transported to a barn and then eventually a school house where he would  have his left leg amputated. He would find himself recovering in the Smoketown Hospital during the fall of 1862 and he would receive a surgeons certificate and be discharged in December 1862. The excerpt begins following the arrival of the Hill's regiment arriving and going into camp near the Monocacy River near Frederick.

Chapter XXXVII

South Mountain

When night came and there were no indications of marching, we wrapped ourselves in our blankets and sought repose. 

The morning of Sunday, the fourteenth of September, was beautiful--the sky clear. Before noon, however, it became clouded over, and there was every appearance of rain. We had time to breakfast before we were ordered to fall in. At last we were on our way again--westward. An hour after we passed through Frederick, where the number of flags and white handkerchiefs waved at us from doors and windows was truly gratifying.  At almost every door stood some bewitching creature with a pail of clear, cold, sparkling water; while others stood with glasses in their hands inviting us to drink. They talked pleasantly with us, and manifested every indication of preferring us to the rebels. I can't for the life of me tell what made me so thirsty that morning; for I must have stopped a dozen times for a drink of water; and each time it chanced (?) I was helped to a glass by a beauty.

As we progressed the sound of artillery began to be heard in front. We had marched twelve miles and were certainly within two miles of the firing when it ceased. A little after three o'clock we found ourselves almost at the base of a tall mountain. Here taking a by-road we (our division) filed off the pike to the right. We had marched nearly half a mile when a rebel battery which was posted at the summit of the mountain opened upon us with shell and round shot. By left-oblique movement, we soon succeeded in gaining the cover of an abrupt ridge near the base of the mountain. The battery then ceased to play. A line of battle was now formed and preparations made to move forward.

About this time Lieutenant Carter said to Captain Conner--

"Captain, I think there will be a fight!"

"No doubt there will," replied the captain.

"Captain," he continued earnestly, " I know I shall be shot."

"Oh,  nonsense!"

" But I will; I am an unlucky mortal. I was shot while on the Peninsula almost the first chance I got--I was only wounded there; to-day I will be killed; I know it."

"Come now, lieutenant, it's only a foolish notion that has got into your head; get rid of it; cheer up: you will come out all right."

"I wish I could think so. I will fall doing my duty, captain," said the brave fellow; for he was a brave man. 

"I know you will do you duty, lieutenant."

About four o'clock we began to advance. We toiled up the steep ascent in front of us, when we discovered that a valley lay yet between us and the main ascent of South Mountain. While passing through a corn-field upon the hill, the enemy's artillery again opened upon us with solid shot. Down the hill we went--across the small valley--up the steep ascent of the mountain. A few hundred yards from the base of the mountain was a stone-fence. Below this, the ground was clear; above, the face of the mountain was covered with trees and rocks. When withing fifty yards of the stone-fence, a murderous fire of musketry was opened upon us by the rebels, who lay concealed behind it, and swarms of bullets whistled about our ears. With a wild shout, we dashed forward--almost upward--while volley after volley was poured upon us; but we heeded it not; we rushed madly on. The rebels, intimidated by our voices,and taken aback by our recklessness and disregard of their bullets, began to give way. We reached the stone-fence,and sprang over. The rebels reformed among the rocks, and fought with remarkable obstinacy.

Captain Conner had left his horse at the rear, and he and Lieutenant Carter were just springing over the wall, withing a few feet of each other, when the later was struck in the head by a bullet, and fell back--dead. 

We pressed the rebels closely. They stood awhile, loading and firing, but at last began to waver. Directly in front of the right of our regiment, they gave way; and several companies from our right--ours among them--pressed forward, becoming detached from the regiment. We soon found ourselves thirty to forty paces ahead of the regiment, having gained the flank of the Seventeenth South Carolina. We were within twenty or thirty steps of them, directly on their left, and they did not see us; then we mowed them down. Poor fellows! I almost pitied them, to see them sink down by dozens at every discharge! I remember taking deliberate aim at a tall South Carolinian, who was standing with his side to me loading his gun. I fired, and he fell into a crevice between two rocks. Step by step we drove the rebels up the steep side of the mountain. By moving a little to the left, I reached the spot where I had seen the rebel fall. On my arrival thither, he arose to a sitting posture, and I was convinced he was not dead yet, I inquired whether he was wounded, and he very mournfully nodded assent. The blood was flowing from a wound in the neck. He also pointed to a wound in the arm. The same bullet had made both wounds; for at the time I fired, he was in the act of ramming a bullet home--his arm extended vertically. He arose to his feet, and I was pleased to find him able to walk. I informed him that, in the nature of things, he was a prisoner; and I sent him to the rear, under charge of one of the boys. 

Having done so, I threw myself upon the ground, and crawled among the rocks to a position fifteen paces in advance of the company, with the intention of taking some unwary rebel by surprise, and getting a fair shot at him. Cocking my rifle, I abruptly arose from my position, which was protected by a rock three feet high. Oh, horror! there, scarcely ten paces from me, stood a great grim rebel, just on the point of bringing his gun to an aim--right at me, too, and his dark eyes scowled fiercely upon me from beneath the broad brim of a large ugly hat. Now it is sheer nonsense to talk about taking a cool aim under such circumstances. Therefore, with a little more agility than I had ever before exhibited, I blazed away at random, and dropped behind the rock--every hundredth part of a second seeming like an age; for I felt sure that the rebel bullet would catch me yet, ere I could drop behind my redoubt. A bullet tipped the rock above my head as I dropped.

Step by step, the rebels retired. I waited at my new position till the line came up. Our boys had just reached me, when Dave Malone was struck in the head by a bullet, and he fell back, quivering and gasping for breath. He soon expired. After the battle, he was buried in the wild, lonely mountain--where he fell. 

By sunset we had driven the enemy to the crest of the mountain. Many were dead and the wounded they left lying among the rocks. Many prisoners were taken. Among the wounded left on the field was a rebel officer of manly appearance. He was wounded in the thigh, and appear to be suffering intense pain. Captain Conner approached him, and said:--

"You are wounded, are you not?"

"Yes in the thigh--and badly," was the reply. 

"May I inquire your name?"

"I am Major Meanes, of the Seventeeth South Carolina. May I ask you the same question?"

"I am Captain Conner, of the Eighth Pennsylvania Reserves."

"The--the--Pennsylvania Reserves!"

"Yes:

"Well, captain, your men fight like devils; they are driving our men right up this steep mountain; I never could have believed it!"

"Ah, major, there is blood in Pennsylvania as well as in South Carolina."

"I am convinced of that."

About dark, the rebels abandoned the mountain at this point, and the firing ceased. At the left and centre, however, the fighting continued till nine o'clock, when it ceased, and the whole rebel force gave way. O that it had been daylight, that we might have pursued them at once! Under the circumstances, however, it was impossible. The night was very dark, and the ways of the mountain obscure. We lay down among the rocks and slept.

Our whole loss at the Battle of South Mountain was twenty-three hundred; that of the enemy, more than four thousand. If there was every a victory gained, in any war, in any campaign, the Battle of South Mountain resulted in a most decided and complete Union victory.


Sources:

Hill, Archibald F., Our Boys: The Personal Experiences of a Soldier in the Army of the Potomac. Phila: John E. Potter, 1866. Pgs. 394-398.

 Ibid, 405-410.

Gayley, Alice J. Roster, Co. D, 8th Pa Reserves (www.pa-roots.com) [accessed 3/21/12]

"They were so numerous that it looked as if they were creeping up out of the ground..." George Neese, Chew's Artillery, on Crampton's Gap

The following is a recollection from George M. Neese, a gunner in Chew's Horse Artillery. Roger P. Chew's horse battery was in position about half-way the mountainside in the area of Crampton's Gap, the primary artillery support for the Confederate defenders along the Mountain Church Road at the base of the mountain. Neese writes:

September 14- This morning the shades of night were still lingering over the landscape when we left camp, and early dawn found us on top of South Mountain, looking over the beautiful Middletown Valley that was lying before us like a diversified illuminated map, with its wooded hills, pleasant fields, hamlets, and towns reposing in the quiet calm of a peaceful Sabbath morning. But before the sun shots its first golden lance across the Catoctin range to kiss away the early dew, the booming of Yankee cannon came rolling across from the Catoctin hills, announcing in ominous thunder tones that the Yankee hosts were advancing, and that there would be but little Sunday for soldiers to-day in this part of Uncle Sam's domain. As soon as we found the whole Yankee army was on the advance, we moved about halfway down the mountain and went in battery ready to work on the first bluecoats that ventured within range of our guns The cannon we heard  so early this morning were at Jefferson, where the Yanks were shelling woods searching, I suppose,  for masked batteries, of which they were most awfully afraid. 
There are two principal gaps in South Mountain through which the main roads pass that lead west through the Middletown Valley. Turner's Gap is the most important one, as the National Road which passes through Frederick City, Middletown, Boonsboro, and Hagerstown leads through Turner's Gap, consequently the heaviest portion of the Yankee forces was hurled against the defenders of that pass to-day. We were at Crampton's Gap, which was some four or five miles south of Turner's and, judging from the small force we had there for its defense, it was not considered of much importance from a Confederate point of view. However, the Yankees did not so consider it, from the heavy force of cavalry, artillery, and infantry they brought to bear against it before the day was over. We had only three companies of infantry, Munford's brigade of cavalry, and six pieces of artillery to defend the pass against at least two, perhaps three, divisions of Yankee infantry, with accompanying artillery and a big bunch of cavalry. At about ten o'clock we saw the first of the Yankee host, about three miles away, approaching our gap cautiously and slowly. As they drew nearer the country seemed full of bluecoats. They were so numerous that it looked  as if they  were creeping up out of the ground -- and what would or could our little force of some three or four hundred available men standing half-way up the bushy, stony mountain side do with such a mighty host that was advancing on us with flying banners? As they came nearer to the mountain they threw out a heavy skirmish line of infantry on both sides of the road, and were still advancing  very slowly when their skirmish line came to within about a mile of our position , so we opened on it with our rifled guns. Our line of fire was right over the village of Burkittsville, and completely checked their skirmishers about a half a mile from Burkittsville. The Yanks now brought up a battery and opened fire on us, but they were about two miles off and all their shell fell short. I fired at them in return, but in doing I disabled my gun. The mountain where we were in battery was a little steep and my gun is a vicious little recoiler, and the recoil space of our position was too sloping, rough, and limited for a free kick, consequently with the second shot I fired--with two mile range--at the Yankees my piece snapped a couple of bolts of its mounting, entirely disabling it for the day. After my gun was damaged there was nothing for me to do but leave the field of action, but before I left I stood awhile and gazed at the magnificent splendor of the martial array that was slowly and steadily moving toward us across the plain below like a living panorama, the sheen of the glittering side-arms and thousands of bright, shiney musket barrels looking like a silver spangled sea rippling and flashing in a midday sun. 
The remainder of the battery held its position, and when the enemy advanced to a closer range opened fire and kept it up until nearly night; but late this evening the enemy forced the pass by flanking and fighting, with overwhelming numbers, and compelled our little force to retire. To observe caution with which the Yankees, with their vast superior numbers, approached the mountain, it put one very much in mind of a lion, king of the forest, making exceeding careful preparations to spring on a plucky little mouse. For we had only about three hundred men actually engaged, and they were mostly cavalry, which is of very little use in defending a mountain pass like Crampton's Gap, where there is one narrow road leading up the mountain and all the remainder of the surroundings heavily timbered  and thickly covered with regular mountain undergrowth and large, loose rocks and boulders.
Crampton's Gap is really neither gorge nor gap, only a little notch in the crest of South Mountain, and nearly all the fighting to-day in trying to defend it was done on the eastern face of the mountain. It is marvelous how a few hundred  of our men held in check nearly all day two divisions of Yankees, besides their artillery and cavalry, and I will venture the assertion that, as usual, correspondents of Northern newspapers will say that a little band of heroic Union patriots gallantly cleaned out Crampton's Gap, that was defended by an overwhelming force of Rebels strongly posted all over the mountain and standing so thick that they had to crawl over each other to get away. 
In retiring our disabled gun from Crampton's Gap we went to Boonsboro and moved southwest direction about four miles on the Shepherdstown road to our wagons, where we arrived at ten o'clock to-night, and camped. In going from Crampton's Gap to Boonsboro we passed within a half mile of Turner's Gap, where a portion of General Longstreet's forces were engaged, fighting desperately right in the gap, which the enemy was assaulting vigorously with a heavy force. The artillery fire was very heavy and the deep-toned thunder of Longstreet's guns, mingled with the crash of fierce and incessant musketry, raged and roared and rolled along the mountain slopes and made the craggy battlements of South Mountain tremble from base to crest.
Boonsboro is a pretty little town at the western base of South Mountain, on the National Road. The houses are nearly all built of brick and kept in good condition all through the town. Before we got to Boonsboro, we passed through Rorhersville, a small hamlet in a pleasant valley, three miles south of Boonsboro. We also passed through Keedysville, a small village three miles southwest of Boonsboro. 
Pleasant Valley is a beautiful little mountain vale a mile wide, extending toward Harper's Ferry along the western foothills of South Mountain. 

Neese would move with Chew's artillery through Williamsport to Martinsburg and onward toward Shepherdstown, (West) Virginia where the unit went into camp as part of the artillery reserve. On the 17th, Neese reported clearly hearing the booming of the cannon and sounds of the battle that was raging in the fields ourside of Sharpsburg. Chew's battery was ordered to Sharpsburg late in the day, arriving just as the fighting ended. The battery would remain in position until the 19th, when the Confederates retreated back across the Potomac. Neese would marched with his men over much of the Berkeley and Jefferson counties in (West) Virginia and remained in the Shenandoah Valley for the remainder of 1862.

Sources:

1. Neese, George M. Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery. New York and Washington: The Neale Publishing Company. 1911.

2. photo of George Neese. 

"I never before saw the ground covered with dead..." Letter from Private Thomas Williams, Co. K, 12th Ohio Infantry

The following is a letter from Thomas Williams of Co. K, 12th Ohio that was published in The Highland Weekly News on October 2, 1862. The paper was the local paper for Hillsborough, Ohio. Thomas enlisted in the 12th Ohio in June 1861 at the age of 18 and was discharged from service in December 1862. He was wounded at South Mountain, reporting here that he had his index finger on his left hand "tapped". He writes of his experience in the battle, the hospital scenes in Frederick, his views on the scenery of western Maryland, and casualties of the 12th Ohio.

Middletown, MD, Sept. 16, 1862

Dear Brother:
      
 I am well at the present time, with the exception of a sore hand. I suppose you heard of our severe engagement with the enemy on last Sunday. (the 14th inst.)

In the evening, I got "tapped" with a ball, which took off a finger on my left hand - the one next the little finger.- It is very sore a present. It will have to be cut off again, which will be a painful operation. Brother John escaped unhurt. So did Sylvanus Cox - or had, at least, up to yesterday evening. I don't know whether our division is in the engagement to-day, or not. It was not yesterday, as it was resting.  Thomas Stonestreet was killed; he never moved after he fell. Our regiment suffered a great deal up to the present time. I know of 4 killed, 7 wounded, and 8 taken prisoners - the latter were sent ahead as skirmishers - in our company alone; so you may know that there was a big loss. 

Gen. Cox's Division was in the advance, so we were in the fight all day Sunday. We made three different charges during the day, and drove the enemy every time. Once we got close enough to prick some of them with the bayonet. We took a great many prisoners during the day; I suppose our regiment alone took about 300. John captured one fellow. When he had his gun half loaded, he ran up to him with bayonet presented, and told him to "hand over his traps." The rebel replied, "Here, I am a prisoner," (handing over his "traps") and John marched him off with the rest, half scared to death.


In the last charge (just before dark) I was wounded, while within fifteen feet of the rebels, who were behind a stone wall, and I went to the rear; but the regiment pushed on and drove the rebels again. I was sent to the hospital at Middletown, where I now am.


The prisoners say they never saw men fight like our division did there- that there was not such fight before Richmond. We didn't stand off and let them shoot at us: but as soon as we could get sight of them we would charge, and that they couldn't stand. Our division has won a great praise among the officers. Gen. Cox thinks he can go anywhere with it- he has such confidence in the bravery of his men. And Col. White thinks there is not another such a regiment as his "gallant 12th." Major Cary was wounded; Capt. Wilson (Co. A) do; Captin Leggett reported killed. A Lieut. of Co. "G" was wounded. 
 
I suppose you saw an account of our "advent" into Frederick City. I tell you we went in there nice. The citizens of Maryland are nearly all Union people, and they are very clever to us. All of the wounded who are able to walk will be sent from here soon, to give room for those who are badly wounded; but where I cannot say. There are over 200 wounded in this hospital and there are nine or ten [hospitals] more in town. I tell you I have seen "sights" before, but this is the greatest I ever saw. I never before saw the ground covered with dead as it was with "Secesh" where we charged. We were so close to them, that we could not well miss them, when we fired, and we just "rolled" them. Those that the balls from our guns hit were nearly all killed. 


I have seen many pretty places, but never as pretty a country as that between here and Washington; no exceptions whatever. When you write again to John, direct as before. I cannot tell you yet how to direct to me; but I will write again as soon as I learn where I am to remain until my hand gets well.


My love to all, and remember me, as ever, your Brother,
Tom

 

Source:

1. Roster Co. K, 12th Ohio

2. Library of Congress. Chronicling America: Historic Newspapers, The Highland Weekly News, October 2, 1862. article [accessed Feb. 17, 2012].

"The sight of the field after the battle is more horrible then the battle itself..."

The following letter was written by John M. Lovejoy. He enlisted in the army in August 1862 in Company G of the 121st New York Volunteer Infantry. He was only 19 years old and his first taste of battle came during the fight at Crampton's Gap. Fortunately, Lovejoy's regiment remained in reserve during the battle but, Lovejoy writes about what he witnessed as the 6th Corps attacked up the slopes of the mountain. He also writes, rather graphically, about what he witnessed as his regiment moved up to the Crampton's Gap to occupy the gap and bury the dead. Following the battle, he would serve as an orderly tending to wounded of both sides in Burkittsville. He would rise to the rank of Corporal before being mustered out with his company in June 1865. 

Headquarters of the 121 Regt. NY Vol.

Battlefield near Burkittsville, Maryland

My dear Cousins and friends,



It is with strange feeling but yet a feeling of gratitude that I now attempt to write to you about one half hour ago, the 2nd lieutenant came in with letters for the company. On having heart leaped with joy when I heard my name called now I must write in short all that will interest you. One week ago yesterday we took up the lines of march to join the division. We joined Slocum's. We belong to [Franchot's] Reg., Bartlett's Brigade, Slocum's Division, Franklin's Corps. Yesterday morning (Sunday), we were near at three o'clock. At five, we were in line for march. We had not marched more than 2 1/2 miles when the booming of artillery told us that we were engaging the enemy about Harpers Ferry. We marched on til noon when we halted in a field in front of the Village of Jefferson. About [two] hours had passed in sight of artillery firing when were were ordered forward. We moved across the fields instead of roads and cornfields and ridges when we were halted in a ravine between the mountain and our batterys. Our men fired a gun to draw the [attention] of the rebels while were were moving down the gulf the rebels returned the fire. The shells falling over our heads about fifteen feet. I must confess that I dazed when the shells passed whistling like fury. When we got in the ravine, we found about five thousand men drawn up in line ready to march at a moments warning. About three o'clock, all the forces except out reg. were called upon to march to the field. We were held in reserve. Our boys marched boldly across the plain under such a volley of grape, canister, and shell. The hill the rebels held was as steep as that south of you house. The rebels had their batteries planted in a road out through the wood about half way up the hill. Our forces marched up to the face of the hill under the fire of their infantry and artillery when they returned a few rounds. When Gen. Slocum ordered to charge . . . they sent up such chants that they could be heard at a great distance. They charged on heeding not the fire of the rebels. The rebels stood their ground bravely until our forces got quite close to them when they turned and ran. I can tell you the way they skedaddled was a . . . . The pinch for me came next morning to see the dead and dying and wounded soldiers, the greater part of them shot through the head. I saw at least 100 dead rebels. In some places they lay so thick that one could not move without treading on them. You can't imagine the [sounds] of the wounded and dying with dead and dying all around you. I'm sure as for one, I should rather be killed out right. I saw [a] poor fellow killed who had been shot through the leg. He had rolled up his pants, put tobacco on the wound, and had kept it dry when another bullet took him through the head scattering his brains in all directions. I saw one poor rebel die. At times he prayed, at times he saw. He cursed the yankee who had given him his death wound. The sight of the field after the battle is more horrible then the battle itself but, enough of this. The loss of the rebels were three hundred killed and wounded to seven hundred prisoners. Our loss was about one hundred killed and wounded and no prisoners. One word from your friend to David, Jonathan should enlist, stay at home . . . and to when you can enjoy yourself. Any man can be patriotic at home but when his belly is empty, his patriotism is all gone. Some times on our march, we did not draw rations. . . . If my life is spared, I shall be with you by another fall. Enjoy yourself as well as you can, but I must close. Good bye from you cousin and friend John M. Lovejoy.