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

August 22 — This morning we went to the Rappahannock and drove into a large hilly field that sloped to the river. When we arrived on a rather prominent knoll in the field there was a horseman there who said to Captain Chew: “Put some of your guns in position here and fire a few shell into that piece of woods you see yonder on the other side of the river. I think perhaps there is something in there.” The piece of woods referred to was not very large, and somewhat lower in altitude than the hill we occupied, and there was nothing visible around or about the woods that indicated in the least that there was any dangerous game lurking within its peaceful borders. I unlimbered the first gun and landed a shell near about the center of the woods, which waked up the lion sure enough. The shell we fired was a twelve-pounder percussioned, and it exploded near the enemy’s lair.

The Yankees had a battery of six or eight rifled guns in position in the innocent little piece of woods, and opened fire on us with all of them immediately after our shell exploded. When I saw six or eight little piles of white smoke rising from the brush and heard the thunder of the guns, and the terrible screaming of the shell overhead, I thought the infernal regions had suddenly opened just on the other side of the river. In the twinkling of an eye our other two rifled guns whirled in battery, and for two hours we fired as fast as we could, and so did the Yanks. Their fire was terrific, and would have been unendurable, but fortunately for us the Yankee gunners aimed their guns too high and cut their fuses too long to seriously injure us much or silence our guns. Some of their shell exploded in front of our guns and some over our heads, but the great majority of them passed harmlessly over us and, with a thud, buried themselves without exploding in a hill about a hundred yards in our rear.

During the time we were engaged the Yanks fired about one thousand shell at us. I fired about one hundred rounds with the first gun. We had one man killed and two wounded. We also had two horses killed. An unexploded shell or solid shot cut in two the pole to one of our caissons. We had an extra pole and repaired the damage before we left the field. When the fight was on well General Fitzhugh Lee came on the field and rode boldly up to the battery and fearlessly sat on his horse watching the progress of the duel amid the fierce howling of shell and shrilly pings of flying fragments.

When he observed that some of our cannoneers were becoming fatigued to the exhausting point, he dismounted his horse, threw off his coat, and acted number one at one of our guns, and he performed his part well, ramming the shell home with the promptness and dexterity of a born cannoneer. Captain Pelham, the gallant and courteous young Alabamian, commander of the old Stuart Horse Artillery, kindly took my place for a while and fired my gun.

After we had fought about two hours we received orders to withdraw our pieces and go with General Stuart on a raid in the direction of Warrenton. When we retired from our position the Yankee battery was still firing, but when we came away I saw another Confederate battery drive on the field and take the same position that we vacated and open fire on the Yanks before we got out of the field.

Soon after we received orders to go with General Stuart we were on the march up the river to Waterloo Bridge. There we crossed the Rappahannock into Fauquier County and marched to Warrenton, where we arrived a little before night. We had some heavy showers this afternoon, and when we got to Warrenton we were as wet as water could make us. Just about dusk we started for Catlett’s Station, which is the first station below Warrenton Junction on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. Soon after nightfall it commenced raining again, and shower after shower of the heaviest sort from the blackest clouds I ever saw kept pouring down till nearly midnight, while blinding flashes of lightning leaped in quick succession from the inky-hued clouds overhead and shot their fiery streams like burning rivers through the thick gloomy darkness that draped the chamber of night. At one moment the lightning’s dazzling glare rent the curtain of night and flashed its brilliant glow over the landscape, making the woods, fields, and hills appear as though they were basking in the full glory of a midday sun; the next moment the black tide of night rushed over the scene and blotted everything into nothingness. On account of the darkness, rain and deep mud we made slow progress in marching for a raid. The cavalry were all way ahead of us. We did not see or hear a sign of them anywhere, consequently toward midnight we halted in the road where the water and mud was just half knee deep. I was wet all over, and through. Cold, chilly, hungry, and sleepy all at the same time, I put myself in as small a package as I could and sat on the limber chest for three long weary hours, with wakeful dreamy visions of a good, warm, dry bed chasing one another all over me.

We were then about three miles from Catlett Station, our objective point. About midnight, or a little after, General Stuart through rain, storm, and darkness charged into the enemy’s encampment at Catlett’s, surprised the Yanks and drove them from their tents scatteringly into the darkness, captured some prisoners and about one hundred horses, and destroyed eighty wagons.

General Pope has his headquarters at Catlett’s, and I heard that General Stuart captured his uniform coat and his code of signals to-night. If General Pope wants to save his shirt he better keep his headquarters in the saddle or else he will see something of the Rebels some of these fine nights besides their backs.

When the cavalry returned from the station we struck out for the Rappahannock. The ditches, runs, and ravines along the road were all overflowing from the heavy rain in the fore part of the night. When we forded Silver Run the water came within six inches of running in the limber chests. Our return march was wearisome and slow. Long before we reached Warrenton morn unbarred the gates of day.

August 21 — This morning we went down the railroad and had a very spirited and warmish fight with a Yankee battery. They had the advantage of us both in the number of pieces and position, but we stuck to our position for a while, under a hot and well directed fire, and for about forty minutes gave them in return the best work we could furnish at short notice, then cried enough and withdrew under fire.

After the fight we moved up to the Hazel River, crossed it and went nearly to the Rappahannock, then moved back a little distance and camped near the Hazel River.

At dusk this evening we heard heavy cannonading and some musketry down the Rappahannock. The whole country around here seems to be full of Yankees. We will tree some of them before long; perhaps tomorrow.

August 20 — This morning at three o’clock we renewed our march, and from all appearances through a poor country. At about nine o’clock we crossed the Rapidan at Mitchell’s Ford, which landed us in Culpeper County and in a beautiful level plain and good land. We marched on in a northeastern course, crossed the Culpeper and Fredericksburg road, and still pressed toward the Rappahannock. When we halted we were only about a mile from the Yankee lines. While we halted some of our cavalrymen brought in a few Yankee prisoners that had just been captured, who reported that the enemy was strongly posted not far ahead and was preparing to charge us; but these same prisoners lied.

However, on the strength of the report, General Stuart formed a line of battle in a beautiful level grassy field and splendid fighting ground for cavalry. Captain Pelham’s battery was in position on the right of the line.

There were about three thousand horsemen drawn up in line, all with drawn sabers, ready to receive a charge or make one. A glance over the field and along the battle line was at once grand, magnificent, and inspiring. Three thousand burnished sabers glittered in the sunlight, ready to be wielded by determined men whose steady and silent gaze to the front, where the enemy was supposed to lurk, pre-signified that every man was spellbound, fascinated, and inspired by the splendor of the sheen and the grandeur of the warlike martial array that was as gorgeous as a dress parade. Yet every man was ready and expecting to receive the shock of battle. We remained in battle line about two hours, waiting for the Yankee charge they did not make; and now I am confident that the Yankee prisoners wilfully lied to-day when they said that their cavalry was preparing to charge General Stuart’s in that particular locality, because the Yankee cavalry is not so awfully chargy when they find something a little dangerous to charge. After General Stuart found that the Yankee charge was a myth we were ordered to move up toward the Orange and Alexandria Railroad. In moving up we passed through a little hamlet called Stevensburg. When we passed there I saw some of General Hill’s infantry marching toward the Rappahannock. We struck the railroad a few miles below Culpeper Court House, then moved down the railroad to Brandy Station, which is about six miles below the Court House.

Our cavalry had a fight with the Yanks this afternoon, and repulsed them, below Brandy Station.

We fell back about three miles toward Culpeper Court House and camped for the night. The country around Brandy is beautiful. Looking east and south the land is as level as a lake.

August 19 —Last night just as we were getting into sleep deep enough to feel good, that confounded old bugle bleated out for us to get up and get ready to march at eleven o’clock. Soon afterwards found us on the march through pitchy darkness, stumbling slowly down the Fredericksburg road. We marched till four o’clock this morning, halted about two hours, countermarched, and went back again over the same road, picketing within one mile of Orange Court House. We remained there until two o’clock this afternoon, then moved back again to where we halted this morning, which is thirteen miles east of Orange Court House. This seems to be see-saw day in the marching business. We did not halt there more than about fifteen minutes, then marched on toward Fredericksburg. We followed the main road about five miles, then turned off to the left and moved about four miles in a northerly course. We marched until two hours after dark.

The road we passed over this morning is hilly and rough and creeps snake-like through a dense pine thicket. The Lord only knows where we are camped to-night — I don’t — but I believe we are somewhere in the northeastern part of Orange County. This morning at daylight the First Regiment of Virginia Cavalry passed us. It is General J. E. B. Stuart’s old regiment. This morning was the first time I saw it.

August 18 — Last night we had our blankets to sleep under again, which was the first time since the night of the 7th. To-day we moved a mile southeast from town, to cook three days’ rations. This evening Captain Chew paraded the company and issued haversacks, in which we were ordered to put three days’ rations immediately, and were also ordered to load all our household effects on our wagons, so that if an alarm or order should break in on us during the night we could be ready to march in thirty minutes.

August 17 — This morning another load of soldiers came in from Gordonsville. I think old Stonewall is fixing to go on a big hunt before many days roll by. All the indications point that way.

August 16 — This morning at daylight we moved out to the Rapidan. When we arrived there the pickets were firing at each other across the river. The Sixth Virginia Cavalry crossed the Rapidan and captured seven of the Yanks’ cavalry that were on picket, and drove the rest back to their camp. After our cavalry drove in their pickets we heard their infantry drums beating the long roll, which was a certain indication that the Yank infantry camp was not far away, and slightly stirred up. The Sixth Virginia fell back and recrossed the river, and soon afterwards I saw a skirmish line march out of a woods about a mile from us. We held a splendid position with a first-class command of all the fields over which they would have to advance in attempting to drive us away or force a passage of the river.

We opened fire on their skirmishers with two of our rifled guns and drove their line back in the woods whence it had come. Soon after we settled their skirmishers we moved back to the Court House and remained there under marching orders till night, then moved to the southern edge of town and camped near the railroad.

This evening a train came in from Gordonsville, filled with conscripts from North Carolina.

August 15 — This morning we went back to the Court House again on picket, and remained all day and night. We have been subsisting for the last week on one meal a day, and sometimes a very poor and scanty one at that.

August 14 — It is strictly against orders to draw rations in a cornfield, but some how or way our mess commissary managed to procure a very toothsome meal yesterday that came from such source. I asked no questions how he got it, but I expect he smashed the army orders as well as one of the Ten Commandments in procuring the needed supplies, or else he bought it on credit and had it charged to Jeff Davis.

When we sit down to an extra meal in the army we never ask the landlord where it comes from, simply for the fact that the world considers it ill manners to always be inquiring of your host where he obtains his supplies; and, moreover, every soldier knows that his rations invariably come from the commissary department.

When the comforts, conveniences, and luxuries of life are few and far between, necessity is ever ready to step in like a kind mother, making gracious suggestions for the amelioration of man’s condition under adverse circumstances and discomforting situations. Yesterday evening I hearkened to the kind and motherly admonitions of the grandmother of inventions, and gathered up all the green corn shucks that were scattered around our kitchen, with the gratifying anticipation of indulging in the exquisite luxury of a soft, downy shuck pillow for at least one night. The partly wilted shucks made a good, sweet pillow, as the women would say, and it served the purpose splendidly till about midnight, when I was awakened by something on the order of a blacksmith’s bellows blowing in my ear. I thought perhaps some of Pope’s Yanks were after me with a blowing machine, but when I raised my head to make observations I saw an old cow standing right by my head pulling corn shucks from my pillow. I saw some cows in the field when I retired, but had no idea that the fools would come and eat my pillow from under my head. The mother of inventions would have done very well this time if the old dame had kept the cow away, for I had a very good pillow until midnight—when the old cow ate it.

The foregoing incident caused some philosophical reflections on the utility and economy of nature and its pertaining affairs to creep through my brain. Yesterday morning the shucks that I used for a pillow last night shielded the juicy corn from the obnoxious depredations of birds and the direful effects of raw sunshine and rain. Last night they supplied me with a pillow until an old cow ate them, and perhaps by to-morrow we will eat the cow; and anyhow by day after to-morrow General Pope would like to make fertilizer out of us suitable for raising corn; that would be but a short journey from corn to corn and shucks to shucks. However, it would require a little metaphysical analysis to trace the ramifications of the process of transformation.

This morning we went on picket again near Orange Court House and remained just south of town all day. This evening at four o’clock we had preaching at the headquarters of the Sixth Virginia Cavalry, which was camped near our picket post. It was a sermon of thanksgiving, and by a special order of General Jackson. Text I. Samuel vii: 12. Late this evening we, through a mistaken order, started back to our wagons, which are six miles from Orange Court House on the Gordonsville road. We passed four large infantry camps and a train of about eighty wagons in camp. When we arrived within one mile of our wagons we learned that our order was a mistake. We stopped right on the spot and camped.