Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 July 1886 — GREAT GUNS. [ARTICLE]

GREAT GUNS.

Soldiers’ Stirring Stories of Solid Shot, Screaming Shells, *<"■"— " 1 Big Battles. Bursting Bombs, Buzzing Bullets, and Bright

Ambush of the First Minnesota at Flint Hill. Virginia. On the 29th of August, 1862, General Pope’s army had been defeated in the second battle of Bull Kun and was retreating toward Washington. The Second Corps, coming iron! the Peninsula by the way of Alexandria, had taken up a position to cover the retreating army. It was toward evening, the Second Corps also leaving the field, with the Second Division in the rear, that General Sumner, who commanded the Second Corps, called the commanders of the different regiments of the division together, asking them what regiment would take the rear as rearguard and as a post of honor. As the regiment might either be taken prisoners or cut to pieces, all were silent. At lakt Colonel Alfred Sully of the First Minnesota spoke up: “General, !, with my regiment, will take the rear.” “Colonel Sully, your boys are too good for that,” was the reply of Geneeral Sumner. “General, my boys know how to take care of themselves.” “Colonel, as you wish it. You shall have the honor of taking the rear, and I hope and wish that I may see you and your regiment safe to-morrow morning again.” The line of march was taken up again. The First Minnesota having been somewhat in the advance in the division, laid down along the roadside, waiting for their turn to come. Passing by r the regiments of. the First Brigade, to which the First Regiment belonged, would call out, ‘‘Come along, Bushwhackers,” (the nickname of the regiment in the brigade); “don’t be lazy and straggling now.” It was getting dark, and the last soldiers had disappeared out of sight, when at last Colonel Sully called: “Attention!” and the regiment took up its line of march. They passed through Fairfax Court House, and were hardly a mile beyond the town when the Johnnies commenced shelling them—while in town they had learned the position of the regiment. The regiment kept steadily on for five or six miles, where they could hear the Johnnies close behind them, their cannons rattling on the rough road. Coming to a little valley between two hills, the opposite hill being timbered, Colonel Sully gave the order to double-quick, and commanded a halt at the opposite hill at the edge of the woods. He placed the regiment in such a position, the two wings forming a right angle, the point of the angle resting in the road, as to have everything that came along that road in a crossfire. Two pieces of artillery, that were with the regiment, were in the center of the road. Three pickets had been thrown outtoreport the advance of anybody. Soon the words of command and the unlimbering of cannon could be heard on the opposite hill. The pickets came in and reported the advance of a cavalryman. The cavalryman advanced almost to the mouth of the cannon, it was so dark in the woods nothing could be seen any distance off, when Colonel Sully, who stood between the two pieces of artillery, sang out, “Who comes there?” “Who are you?” came the reply. Colonel Sully asked again, “Who are you?” The cavalryman, with the words, “Take this, and be damned,” swung his horse around and fired his revolver at Colonel Sully. The shot missed him, but hit the right-wing man of Company A. The pistol shot had not died away when Colonel Sully's clear, deep voice rang out, “Ready, fire!” and a volley, as compact as ever was fired by any regiment, together with the discharge of the pieces of artillery resounded in the hills. When the echoes had died away, the shouting of commands, the cries of the wounded and the bustle of a skedaddling body of troops could be heard on the opposite hill. Colonel Sully, in his calm voice, as if nothing had happened, gave the command, “By the right flank, file right, march;” saying, at the same time, “they won’t trouble us any more to-night.” The regiment took up its line of march, feeling sure that the rear was safe for that night. When General Sumner heard the firing he ordered an aid-de-camp to find out what was the. trouble. When the aid-de-camp reported that Colonel Sully and his boys had shown the enemy their faces, he said: “Oh, I expected that; that is like him." The result of this little encounter became only known to the regiment sdmg“lfx or seven months afterward. The regiment was doing picket duty in the spring of 1863 in front of Fredericksburg, on the Rappahannock, above Falmouth, when occasionally a one-armed citizen would come visiting the nearest picket post. The boys of the regiment asked him one day how he lost his,arm—if he hud been a soldier. He said he lost his arm at such a place, naming just the same spot where the regiment laid in ambush for the Johnnies. They asked if he knew what regiment they had to do with. He said no. They told him that it was theirs, the First Minnesota. -—“Well, boys,” he said, and shook hands with them, “although I lost my arm by that affair, I must say you did do well there. We were near enough to hear you tearing at a furious rate through that little valley to

the sheltering timber, and we were just getting, ready, thinking you on a dead-run skedaddle, to give you a good eend-off and eend the cavalry in after you, when you gave us that tremendous volfey; I belongedto the cavalry, and you emptied forty saddles for us. What harm you did to the infantry and artillery I do not know. The artillery left their cannons behind them, apd the whole force that was not left behind either killed or wounded skedaddled uh far as Fairfax, thinking you had turned the tables on ns, "- - —— - : ■ “What force did you haye there?” the boys asked. “There were two regiments of infantry, two squadrons of cavalry, and .four pieces of artillery.” ' After this the one-armed man was often seen at the picket posts chatting with the boys.— Chicago Ledger.

A Day’s March with Sherman. It is not often that one gets a chance to spend a day with an'invading army, its base of supplies abandoned, and its rations “picked up” from the country tributary to the march.. Such was the writer’s good fdrtune when Sherman’s army was making: its way, on short rations, from Nashville to Atlanta. andL wo will detail a few of the incidents of thatday*We were a foraging party, sent in advance to hunt up supplies and buy or capture them. When we found them there was no question as to who would ultimately become the consumers of those supplies. Our orders from General Sherman were to keep, as nearly as possible, a given route, and to “set tire td a stack, house, bam, or something, from time to time, that he might know our route and where we were.” And away we rode, a well-mounted, finely disciplined body of cavalry and of artillery—a single piece—with a long train of empty army wagons. Thirty miles among the mountains were soon passed, and little promise of forage. Our signals had been left along from time to time, but to every inquiry we found the one answer—no corn, no bacon — and we believed them. It was an interior region, without market facilities, but about noon things began to look better. We halted and fed our horses and men, and made inquiries as to corn for sale or in store for miles ahead. Not a sign. Things began to look serious. At last we got the name of an old planter about twenty miles aheadr- Reports gave him com; but the rebs had been foraging in his neighborhood, and it was doubtful if even he had com now. It was our best show, and, mounting, we hurried forward. The day was well gone when we halted in his neighborhood. To our inquiries he gave a decided negative. Emphatically he had no corn. We, upon consultation, decided not to believe him. We enlisted his negroes in the search, and began a systematic hunt of the forest valleys in his neighborhood, Perhaps history will never record just how much is due to the negroes’ aid in our finding that corn, but we found it—a goodly supply for mules, horses, and, if need be, men, for more than a day. And it was in the nick of time, too. It was needed.—■———x

The corn was cribbed in the dense forest of one of those deep mountain valleys, and almost unapproachable, but we soon found and opened up his road, and loaded the corn into our wagons. The old fellow was quite willing to take a Government voucher for the corn when he saw that it was gone, an act of clemency that he did not deserve. It should have been confiscated. In the next few hours we found, within a few miles in different directions, several thousand bushels of com and a few small stores of bacon. In one or two ettses the owners, finding that we were in pursuit of such commodities, came and offered them for sale. But we were strong in the belief that even these would not, but for the belief that we would find and take them, and they offered them in the hope of getting a better price. In any event we secured in this neighborhood enough forage for Sherman’s army for several full rations to all the animals, cavalry or team service, and it came at an opportune moment, and when things began to look a little doubtful for the future. There is no enemy that confronts an army like a want of rations. They can stand short rations when not in active service quite tolerably, but here was an army of men and animals all doing their best—making full days over an unknown country, etc. FuH rations were a necessity. We will only add" that when G.en. Sherman’s ffirces, reached this point they found a goodly collection of corn and meal and a large number of fair bullocks ready for the butcher. But we have exceeded our twenty-four hours, and close here.

jA Battle Incident. The writer of the following, four years a volunteer in the rebel army, wishes the name of the “young blue-coat” described herein: On the morning of the third of May, 1863, we found the Yankees occupying Fredericksburg, and our outpost driven in. My battery was occupying the works to the east of the plank road, with the redoubt in our front occupiecThy infantry; and still further in advance of our position were placed sharpshooters, protected from the Yankees by small rifle pits. We could plainly see the Yankees preparing to charge our works, and were elated at the prospect of adding a few more of the Northern mudsills to our slain on Virginia soil. The sharpshooters were instructed to pick off the officers when they came within easy range. We (the artillery) were instructed to let the attacking column pass the bridge over the canal, and to open on the support as it ca&e forward, and the infantry in the redoubt were to do up the attacking column. These arrangements were scarcely completed when a column of blue-coats made its appearance on the plank road leading out of Fredericksburg, directly in our front, and another column of blue-coats was visible farther south, directly in front of a stone wall at the base of a hill to our left that was occupied by our men. The two columns advanced with solemn tread and arms at a trail. The scene was a sublime one that beautiful Sabbath morning. The artillery on both sides had ceased firing, and for a few moments our officers and men in the works gazed with admiration at the column advancing in our front. Their officers in place, not a word is spoken, not a command is heard. They have cross-_ ed the canal. They are at the base of the hill. Our sharpshootersare at work. Their commander, is shot from his horse. Their line officers go down on either side of the column. A shell from our gun bursts at the head of the column. Our infantry pour into their ranks a shower of leaden hail. Our gun is reloaded and opened on the support that is hurrying - to their rescue. The column is ascending the hill; not a shot has been fired by them; they are past th • Sharpshooters over the redoubt our infantry were occupying. “Give them canister,” our officer repeated. -■ We tire busy reloading our gun. We attach the 1 inyard and move the gun into position, “Bring on that flag,” rang out almost ever my. head. I. looked up. Abeardless blue-coat, with a green Greek cross on his left breast and “61st P. V.” in brass figures and letters upon his cap. With a smile on his face, there- he stood, capping his gun. Soon his comrades were

around him. The works are taken. No shoulder strap is in sight. Our gun remains loaded in the blue-ctjdts’ possession. Our infantry had failed, to do up the attacking column, and we were left to the mercy of those brave blue-coats, who hardly halted, but passed quickly to our rear and opened fire on our fleeing infantry. - I have often thought of that charging column—their discipline so perfect- JNo exultation at qur misfortune; no insult offered. It waH murder to pick off their brave officers, for they were disciplined up to a point where every private became a leader. Truly it was a sight never io be forgotten. Frank Fisher. Omaha, Neb.

“Physical Disability.” We clip the following from the National Guardsman, and commend it for the good that is in it: A young man succeeded in getting a certificate of exemption from the draft from the Board of Enrollment on-the ground of “physical disability,” and hastened to his betrothed to announce his escape. Strangely to him, the good yews affected her ill an unexpected manner, and she withdrew from his presence with but the shadow of an excuse. The young man was confounded, and, visions of riyals rising up before him, soughTan explanation from the lady’s father, who always treated him graciously and was favorable to the proposed alliance. The father in turn was mystified, and immediately seeking his daughter, found her in great grief. “Oh, father,” said the girl, “I have been shamefully deceived. Oh, how mortifying to be known to be engaged to a man who comes shamelessly to me, just before our marriage, and rejoices in ‘physical disabilities.’ Why did you not tell me that the man was imperfect or sickly before matters went so far? I have no ambition to turn my future home into a domestic hospital or myself into a perpetual nurse.” The fifther tried to persuade her by saying that probably a trifling ailment, magnified by the complaint, might have obtained his exemption from service, and reminded her : that her lover was a fine rider, a graceful skater, and very expert in many exercises.

“And under all this,” added the fair girl, “he hides some dreadful infirmity. Surely you do not think I would be engaged to him if I knew him to be consumptive, scrofulous, or worse? I thank God that the draft has lifted the mask. And the man actually delights in being advertised as physically disqualified to serve his country. Oh, shame! He shall know,” said she, rising with pround indignation, “that he is physically disqualified to husband me!” And the father, physiologically considering how the seeds of disease are entailed from one generation to another, approved his daughter’s decision, and informed the young man that he might henceforth consider himself “exempt” from the proposed marriage, on the ground of acknowledged “physical disability.”

Tale of the Tiger Zouave. When the war broke out the masses of the people on both sides of the Potomac knew very little about—each other, says the Atlanta Constitution. They did not travel, mix, and mingle. The stay-at-homO Southerner took a partisan and sectional view of the North; and the stay-at-home Northerner took a partisan and sectional view of the South. We belieVed that the typical Northerner was tall, hatchet-faced, blue-eyed, and light-haired. It took a long time to convince us that the North was mainly made up of brunettes, while the South was the home of the blondes. When the Louisiana Tiger Zouaves came through here, about the first year of the war, they were critically examined. One of our cilizens picked out a chunky, swarthy, black-haired zouave, and remarked to a crowd: ‘“There is a specimen of the pure Southern type. There is no mistaking it anywhere. Such a man could not be bom under Northern Skies. He is either a creole of Louisiana, a Spaniard, Frenchman, or Greek. I will settle the matter right now.” Walking up to the soldier he opened a conversation with him, and finally asked him to name the State of his birth. “Well,” said the zouave, hesitatingly, “I don’t know that it makes any difference, but it may surprise you a little. I was born in the State of Maine.” There was a painful pause in the conversation for a moment, and then our Atlanta man naked: ______l ' ■ - ■ “Well, how in blazes do you happen to belong to this crowd?” “Oh, that’s all right,” was the answer. “You see I’m a sailor. I was paid off in New Orleans about a month before the war opened. I frolicked around until my money was gone, and when I came to my senses the trouble had commenced. .Well, I wanted to see some fun, and as these boys were good fellows I joined them.” The disappointed citizen could not resist the temptation to fire a parting shot. “Perhaps,” said he, “you did not much care which flag you fought under?” “Me? H—l, no!” was the prompt response. It is needless to say that this zouave, who looked so typically Southern, was forthwith dropped like a hot potato.

How His Wife Saved Him. During the raid of John Morgan through Ohio in 1863, he halted a part of his command at Senecaville to rest while the advance proceeded to Campbell's Station to burn the warehouse, and ent the telegraph wires of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Morgan, who was a man of splendid personal appearance, stopped his carriage in front of a millinery shop that was pre ided over by a strongminded, patriotic lady whose husband and two brothers were in the Union army at the time. Her husband had presented her with a fine revolver before he went away, and she had promised to shoot the first rebel with it that put himself in reach of its contents, but little dreaming ’ that such an event would occur in less than a fortnight afterward. She stepped to a window, and parted the blinds enough to see Morgan and not be seen by him. As the lady spied the large silver star that Morgan invariably wore on the lapel of his coa.t, she concluded, it would be a good target to shoot at. She stepped back to a drawer where she kept the v-istol, took it out, cocked it, and took deliberate aim through the aperture in the blind at that silver star; but. just wh?n she was ready to touch the trigger, she thought of Mrs. Morgan and what her anguish would be when she heard of his death, and how grateful she would be if her own husband’s life had been spared. The revolver was lowered, and the lady stepped to the door, and was engeg-d in conversation by the raider chieftain. She courageously 'told him what shy had attempted to do,> and was told by Morgan good-humoredly that he hnd no doubt but his wife w s praying for him at that time, and that it was not the first time Mis. Morgan's players had saved his life. Morgan th n bid the lady a hearty farewell, and passed on as though h,e hitd^uotjust been in imminent peiil at the hands of a woman. . C. M. Cabpentek, Sydney, Hljnois. ’