Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.

June 14 — We moved only about two miles to-day, and camped near Bumpas Station. Late this evening the second and fourth guns were ordered to the front, in the direction that the raiders are retiring.

June 13 — Repulsed, defeated, and almost discomfited, the enemy made a precipitate retreat last night, leaving their dead unburied on the field, and also left some of their wounded behind. They evidently looked for and feared a night attack, for they blockaded the road in rear of where their line was yesterday, by felling trees across the way and rendering it impassable for artillery.

This morning when we passed over a portion of the battle-ground that the enemy occupied yesterday I saw several dead artillery horses that were killed by some of our shell yesterday.

This morning we started in pursuit of the retreating raiders, and moved down the Central Railroad, passing through Louisa Court House. Camped to-night four miles below Fredericks Hall. We are moving down the same road that we came up on a few days ago. The Yankee raiders destroyed about four miles of railroad between Louisa Court House and Trevillian Station, which is about all that they accomplished on their extensive raid.

June 12 — We slept by our guns last night, but no hostile tread disturbed our repose. This is the Sabbath day, and when the sweet light of morn with golden glow first bathed the woods and hills and spread a brilliant sheen on the dewy field, not a single harsh sound of war, nor thrilling bugle blast to charge, marred the peaceful Sabbath calm. It was a beautiful morning, for Nature had donned her lovliest garb, and yards and gardens were bedecked with early summer flowers that had just unfolded their brightest and freshest hues; an odoriferous flood of rich perfume from a thousand fresh, sweet-scented June roses and sweetbrier bloom was wafted over the dew-bespangled fields by the wings of a balmy morning zephyr. Men may write and women may sing, “I would not live alway,” but I would not woo nor welcome death on such a lovely day as this. After the early hours of morning wore away a slow but steady fire commenced and was kept up along the front, by sharpshooters on both sides, until after the middle of the day. About noon we were ordered to the front with the artillery, to take part in the conflict that was poulticed all forenoon with warm bullets from the sharpshooters’ rifles, and the battle was ripe and ready to open. When we arrived at the front we put our guns in battery about five hundred yards from the enemy’s position, and were ready for the curtain to rise and the game to uncover. A portion of the enemy’s line was in a brush woods with an open field in front, but the strongest point of their line and the key of their position was a railroad cut which was full of dismounted riflemen.

At about three o’clock this afternoon the enemy made their first attempt to assault our position, and they came with the determination to break our line; we opened a rapid fire on them with all our guns, firing short-ranged shrapnel. Our cavalry also opened a heavy fire with something that sounded very much like musketry.

Three times the enemy charged from the woods and the railroad cut, firing as they came, and were repulsed every time. As the assaulting line came dashing out of the woods and over the field we opened on them with canister, firing as rapidly as possible, breaking their line every time and hurling it back to the woods, while our cavalry poured a heavy fire into the Yanks until their broken line slipped into the woods.

Every time the assaulting line rushed out of the woods and charged into the field they opened a heavy fire of musketry on our line and position; then a storm of bullets zipped and whizzed and thudded around our guns, as thick as hail.

During the settled down part of the fight, when men stood and fired at each other like animated targets, that portion of the enemy’s line that was in the railroad cut was in a secure position, well sheltered from our fire, and it took nice and scientific work on our side to-day to dodge the well-aimed bullets that were fired with such cool deliberation. The second gun of our battery was in position opposite the southern end, or rather in front, of the railroad cut and under a raking fire of the riflemen in the cut. About one hour after the battle commenced the gunner of the second gun was wounded, and I was hurriedly sent for, to take his place. The second gun was in position about three hundred yards to the left of where my gun was, and on higher, ground, and the space between was all open field and fully exposed to the enemy’s fire, and the death pellets were flying all over the field, for the Yankee riflemen were then firing at any and every thing that moved. Therefore I did not go straight through the field toward the second gun, but flanked rearward and struck a woods about fifty yards in rear of our line, which afforded me friendly shelter and a healthier clime whereby to pursue my way to the field of dangers new. I stuck to the woods until I got in rear of the second gun, where, as I climbed the fence at the edge of the woods to go into the field, a cannonball from one of the enemy’s batteries whizzed through the fence right under me and snapped in two the third rail from the ground while I was on top of the fence. If I had been a second later or a few moments earlier I might have lost a leg or two; but once more a miss was as good as a mile.

I jumped off the fence and ran to the gun, which was in position about fifty yards from the woods, and opened fire on the enemy’s line at the south end of the railroad cut. There was a large house just in rear of the Yankee line and rather to the left of the railroad cut, which was occupied by a goodly number of the enemy’s sharpshooters, who were firing from the upper windows with long-range rifles and doing some damage to our dismounted sharpshooters, and causing considerable annoyance to the left of our line by now and then dropping a cavalryman dead in his tracks. I saw the house and also saw the sharpshooters firing from the windows, but I had no orders to fire on the house, and, moreover, I was just then firing at closer game. After I fired some eight or ten shell General Butler of South Carolina came riding on the field where we were and glanced at the situation a moment, then rode up to my gun and, pointing at the house where the enemy’s sharpshooters were, said to me, “Fire that house.” I immediately turned my gun, and the very first shell I fired struck the house and set it ablaze; however, I sent another shell at it for quick work and good measure. Just after I fired the first shell I saw a thick volume of smoke rising from the roof, while a nice little stream of Yankee sharpshooters rolled out below, and that completely cleaned up the sharpshooting business from that point for all time to come.

The battle lasted from three o’clock until dark, when the general fight ended, but we remained on the field until ten o’clock to-night, firing an occasional shell to let the Yanks understand that we were still holding our ground and ready for business. Our side lost comparatively few men to-day, considering the severity and duration of the conflict; in our company we had three killed and six wounded. The battle was fought on the Central Railroad one mile above Trevillian Station, in a slightly rolling country, mostly farm lands, diversified with here and there small stretches of woodland.

When we left the battle-ground to-night we moved back a few miles and camped in the Green Spring country, a small scope of beautiful country of rich and fertile land that produces abundant crops of wheat, corn, and grass. We are camped to-night in a field where the clover is two feet high. The land here is nearly level, save where here and there a gentle wave-like swell breaks across the plain like billows on an emerald sea.

June 11 — Early this morning we moved down to Trevillian Station. The fields around the little station were destined to become the arena on which the mastership of the present raiding business was to be decided, and determine who is to be boss of the expedition.

When we arrived at Trevillian this morning the skirmishers had already commenced firing, and the enemy was advancing slowly and cautiously, yet in a businesslike shape and manner. After we were there a little while and the skirmish firing on both sides was getting warmish and interesting, the first section of our battery was detached to go with General Rosser’s brigade in the direction of Gordonsville, to guard and protect our left flank. We proceeded immediately, and moved with General Rosser’s cavalry about five miles from Trevillian in the direction of Gordonsville; there we halted for further developments. In the meantime a slow artillery fire between some of our artillery and the Yankee batteries was in progress right at Trevillian. The enemy did not appear in front of us, way out on the extreme left of General Hampton’s line, but made a fierce and stubborn onset right at Trevillian Station, and for a while they fought like fury, as if they intended to do something this time sure enough, and they came very near doing it.

The enemy’s object was to gain possession of the Charlottesville road, which leads direct from Trevillian to Charlottesville, but General Hampton, by adroit maneuvering and valiant fighting, blocked that game completely, by defeating and foiling the raiders in their first aggressive performance. While we were away with Rosser’s brigade the raiders made a gallant and desperate charge on General Hampton’s line, and for a while the conflict raged furiously; at one place the blue line swept over the field with such bold and fearless courage that some of our cavalry, under a heavy fire of the oncoming exultant foe, wavered and fell back in a regular mixed-up flinch.

The enemy had already pierced General Hampton’s line and captured two of our caissons and a goodly number of horses belonging to our dismounted sharpshooters and artillerymen when General Rosser, who had been hurriedly dispatched for, dashed on the field with gleaming saber at the head of his brigade of gallant and trusty veterans, all rushing to the rescue with naked sabers or drawn pistols, with set teeth and knit brow, determined to do or die. Then sabers clashed, pistols and carbines crashed, and for a while it looked like a free fight. The firing was quick and heavy for a short time; I heard the din of the conflict as we were hastening to the fray. The raiders fought well and gallantly, clinging tenaciously to the ground they had gained before the arrival of Rosser’s cavalry, but eventually the blue line yielded and broke under General Rosser’s vigorous and timely onslaught, and fell back discomfited from our line and position toward the base of their day’s operation, thwarted and baffled in their desperate effort to force our line and clear the Charlottesville road.

The timely arrival of General Rosser at the head of his brigade is all that saved our side from sustaining a disastrous defeat, for when he arrived on the field the Yankees had already broken our line and captured about half of the horses belonging to the Seventh Georgia Cavalry, some of our company’s horses, two of our caissons, and prisoners not a few, all of which were recaptured when General Rosser and his men rallied our line, repulsed and forced back the enemy. If General Rosser had been ten minutes longer in arriving, it would perhaps have been too late to retrieve the lost ground and all the concomitants of defeat and snatch from the enemy the victor’s palm with all its subsequent advantages and effects.

When we arrived on the field with the first section of our battery the fight was over, as we could not keep up with the cavalry after they sniffed the battle from afar and were cognizant of Rosser’s urgent dispatch to hasten to the rescue. This afternoon the first section of our battery was again detached, this time to go with the Eleventh Virginia Cavalry up the Charlottesville road, to watch and guard our rear. As the urgent requirements of successful work in attempting to finish up a raiding party demands prompt action under all circumstances, we immediately, after we received our orders, were on the march to the rear on the Charlottesville road, with the first section of our battery, following the Eleventh Virginia Cavalry.

We crossed the South Anna River near its head and put our guns in position on a commanding hill just south of the river in a section of beautiful and fertile country drained by the headwaters of the South Anna.

After the fight this morning nothing of any importance transpired during the remainder of the day. The sharpshooters have been firing along the front all afternoon in a desultory manner, without any serious effects, however, though now and then they drew blood. General Rosser was wounded this evening, and I think it was done by a sharpshooter. It is now dusk, and night is fast falling down on woods and fields, and we are still in position on the South Anna way in the rear of our line, yet fixing to sleep by our guns, in case the raiders should take a notion during the night to do

The sharpshooting along the front has died away, and from all appearances the day’s operations are over, and as yet there are no serious or important results observable on the surface of affairs concerning the final outcome of the expedition, only that the raid seems to be checked and the raiders are at bay.

The Yankee raiders are under the command of General Sheridan, and from the way the men in blue came up against General Hampton’s line to-day, without much preliminary maneuvering or flanking intentions, this Sheridan must be a regular butter, and a much better actor in tragedy than he is in strategy. I am no prophet, nor the son of a prophet, but if General Sheridan fights to-morrow on the same plan that he did to-day, by to-morrow evening he will be a defeated general. I do not know what forces or strength the enemy has,— it may be far superior to ours in numbers,— but if General Sheridan attacks to-morrow without some extensive flanking General Hampton will repulse and defeat him in bulk. The probability is that there will not be much flanking done by the enemy, as this makes twice that we have been on the flank-watching business to-day, and we have found no game yet, and, judging from to-day’s operations, we may expect nothing but sledge-hammer blows from the front to-morrow, as flanking in an actual battle does not seem to belong to General Sheridan’s tactics. In these latter days it seems that Uncle Sam is depending on, and putting his trust in, the might of numbers to grind the armies and the rebellious Southland down by sheer attrition and brute force; consequently the powers that be at Washington select the commanders for their butting qualities instead of strategetical capabilities.

June 10 — This morning at daylight we renewed our march up the railroad. We passed Eredericks Hall, a small village and station on the Central Railroad, in Louisa County. The largest building in the little village is a tobacco factory, where a great quantity of smoking tobacco is manufactured.

This afternoon we passed through Louisa Court House, a pleasant little town of about four hundred inhabitants, situated in a fertile but rolling country and on the Central Railroad sixty-two miles from Richmond, by rail.

We marched until nearly midnight, and camped on the Charlottesville road about five miles west of Trevillian Station in Louisa County. Trevillian is on the Central Railroad and the first station above Louisa Court House; it is about seven miles northeast of Gordonsville. The Yankee raiders are not far from this section of country, for we scented them and heard from them to-day; about to-morrow they will try to do something and we will be ready to assist them in the job.

June 9 — The Yankee cavalry disappeared from our front yesterday and it seems they have gone in force on an extensive raid toward the Blue Ridge. I suppose they are trying to nose around to our rear and go into the railroad-destroying business, or perhaps they intend to perpetrate some other devilment that would be more damaging to Dixie than railroad cutting. But whatever they intend to do they had better do quickly, for General Hampton with a good force of cavalry is after the raiders in hot pursuit, and when he strikes a warm trail there is generally some blood left in the track and some game bagged. This morning at daylight we left camp on a forced march westward, to aid the Yankee raiders in finding something. We marched out on the Brook turnpike to the Yellow Tavern; there we took the Telegraph road and moved on it to within about two miles of Hanover Junction; then we left the Telegraph road and marched in the direction of Louisa Court House. Early in the day we forded the Chickahominy and South Anna, both crossed by the Telegraph road. After we struck out in the direction of Louisa Court House we crossed the head of Deep River and struck the Central Railroad at Hewletts just at sunset; we halted there and fed our horses, after which we renewed our march up the railroad and marched to Beaver Dam Station, where we arrived little before midnight and camped. We had a little shower of rain to march by just after dark this evening.

June 8 — We moved camp this evening to the south side of the Chickahominy. We are now camped near the Brook Turnpike, in a section of beautiful, rich, and productive country of fertile land. The Brook Turnpike is an excellent macadamized road leading out of Richmond in a northwesterly direction through a gently rolling country of green fields and well cultivated farms and gardens. The pike proper is only six miles long and leads to the Yellow Tavern, where the road forks, one leading to Louisa Court House and the other, known as the Telegraph road, leading to Fredericksburg. The Yellow Tavern is six miles northwest of Richmond and is the spot that makes our memories bleed, for there a few weeks ago, on the eleventh of May, our gallant, brave, and dashing leader, General J. E. B. Stuart, fell, mortally wounded while fighting with his face to the foe. A braver and nobler cavalier never drew a sword or wielded a saber.

June 5 — Rained last night and this morning, but this afternoon and evening the sky is clear and the weather calm and delightful.

June 4 — We remained in camp to-day. Some cannonading in front, in the direction of Cold Harbor.

Meadow Bridge is five miles north of Richmond and is just above where the Central Railroad crosses the Chickahominy. The country around Meadow Bridge is low, wet, and swampy. About three miles north of the bridge is a small scope of country of very fertile, rich and beautiful land.

The Chickahominy is a small sluggish stream winding through a low swampy section of country; its banks are covered with trees and fringed with a dense growth of thickets. The water of the Chickahominy is of a rich tannish brown color, something similar in shade to weak lye; the color is caused by the drainings of the swamps which are its principal feeders.