The pounding of hundreds of horse's hooves makes a sound much like thunder; add to that the neighing of the horses, the sound of the tack, and the talking of the men and marching with a cavalry unit isn't exactly quiet.
We had been marching for weeks playing cat and mouse with Confederate forces and trying to locate enemy supplies. Weíd fought dozens of petty skirmishes with Confederate patrols and were showing the strain. The light misty rain didnít help the matter either. We had about nine hundred men in our force. We had started the march with a thousand. Our supply wagons had been delayed, burned, and destroyed, we had three left. A cannon had slipped off the road into the mud and was captured by the Confederates. Another three had been taken or destroyed during a fight with a Confederate force who were guarding the river.
The lieutenant rode up. "The captain has ordered us to the front in a skirmish line," he said, "let's move out." Some grumbling rose from our company, but we urged our horses to canter to the front of the column, arranging ourselves into a long spread-out line surrounding the front and half the sides of our regiment. For three hours we rode without talking. Suddenly we heard the muffled boom of a cannon and the whistling shriek of a shell. In the back a fireball rose, and I felt the heat wave knock off my slouch hat as one of our precious supply wagons detonated. Two more rounds followed, however their accuracy wasnít as good as the others. Instantly our men were galvanized into action. Men were running to seek cover while the officers desperately organized the troops. In a field behind some trees and a split rail fence, the gun crews were hurriedly setting up our two guns. Then about three companies of Confederate infantry appeared over a ridge a quarter of a mile away.
"Hurry" our captain, shouted, "rally behind this line. Troopers dismount!" Fumbling with my rifle, I pulled my horse under cover and steadied my gun against a split rail fence. I crouched down in a hollow and jacked a shell into the chamber. Most of my companions agreed that the only good thing to come out of this campaign was the weapon. Our regiment had been chosen to use the Henry rifle. We also carried Colt .44 revolvers and 1860 cavalry sabers that were next to useless. As we prepared our weapons, the Confederates advanced while their artillery tried to seek us out in vain. Our battery returned fire with somewhat better success but was limited by shortage of ammunition. Soon the companies were in range.
"Open fire!" Came the cry of the captains, lieutenants, and corporals. Across the field the Confederate broke into a run, spreading themselves out into loose formation. Firing sparingly, I fired my rifle at the advancing enemy. Suddenly they jumped into the ditch on the other side of the road. It was a shallow affair with no cover. That had caused our officers to ignore it, when we sought cover from the shells that were raining down on us. From that ditch they poured a volley of musket fire at us. We fell back and many men leapt aside seeking better cover. The lieutenant lurched and fell near me; another man groaned as a bullet grazed his arm. The cannon belched canister to our right, sweeping the trench but doing little damage. Dropping to reload my rifle I fumbled in my pouch for a handful of .44 caliber bullets. Sliding them into my gun, I rose to kneeling position and readied myself to fire. Again the cannonís roar filled the air. The trench exploded and dirt showered down on us. I found out later that the commander had used shell instead of canister and nicely placed the shell right inside the trench. Through the haze we saw the shadowy figures of our opponents as they retreated out of the trench and ran down the field. A canister round split the air, cutting down many of the retreating figures. The smoke hanging in the air made it difficult to see and prevented shooting with much accuracy. When the smoke cleared the Confederates were at their hill leaving a trail of weapons, dead, and wounded behind. Our colonel was quick to seize the initiative. He left one company behind to guard the artillery and supply wagon (the other one had been burned in the attack). The other companies would attack the mountain. Our company would swing around the flank using trees along the road for cover and then engage their rear. As we threaded among the trees getting closer and closer to our goal something made the captain start. He pulled out his field glasses and closely examined whatever was interesting him. He looked around and seeing no one else he beckoned to me and asked, "What do you see there? That patch of white." I took the proffered field glasses and looked. It was a supply wagons canvas cover. And I could see other, darker ones and the camouflaged battery of our stolen artillery! I told him what I saw. He smiled grimly and said "Take a message to the section commander. Ask him if he can drop a couple of shells on those supply wagons." I saluted, replied "Aye, aye sir."" and urged my horse through the trees at a canter.
The section commander was a short stocky man known for an accurate aim. I trotted up, saluted and said ìSir, Captain Hunnington requests that you fire some shells just over the ridge." The captain straitened pushed his slouch hat back and asked if I could find the target on a map. I nodded and he produced a weather-beaten map of the region. Casting about with my finger, I located the hill and then tapped were I believed the supply wagons were. The captain smiled, placed his hat back shading his eyes, and started calling orders. Men jumped into position and wheeled the cannon into place. As I galloped off through the woods, I heard several booms as the cannon fired. When I caught up with the column, the captain turned and smiled at me. We continued until we were behind the ridge. The shelling had stopped and now we heard the short barking of carbines and muskets up on the ridge, the captain nodded and called loudly ìLetís go men.î We pounded up the slopes until we were under cover of the woods. Then the captain gave the order to dismount and, leaving twenty men behind to guard the horses, we crept up towards the enemy encampment. Soon we came to where the supply wagons were. Blackened stumps and a few charred boards showed the remains of a small explosion. A cannon sat on the ground one wheel completely destroyed. Another one was flipped on its side. A wagon stood completely gutted by a shell, only its axles and wheels still standing. Trees lay on the ground. One was crashed on top of a third cannon. Beyond the gloomy wreckage lay the enemies battle line. They were positioned slightly below the ridge, in a strong defensive point among rocks and brush. Below them our forces were pinned down by heavy fire. To attack the position from anywhere would be suicide, except from above. With a yell, we fired upon the enemy; the Confederates were trapped between two forces and couldn't manage a counterstrike. Because of our superior weapons we could sustain a much better rate of fire whereas most of the enemy needed time to reload their muskets. Soon the enemy began surrendering en masse, however, many of the troops along the left flank escaped.
After the battle I was assigned with a squad to gather supplies from the dead and wounded. The gunpowder and lead bullets didn't work in our Henrys but they would make good grapeshot for our cannon and some of it could be used in our pistols. We had also taken one of the recaptured cannon. The others couldn't be repaired quickly enough to use so we spiked and buried them. Two wagons were undamaged. One contained food, medical supplies, and a few miscellaneous weapons. The other wagon contained ammunition including some .44 caliber rounds. These were quickly divvied out to the troop, but we only got an additional fourteen rounds apiece. Because of the scarcity of .44-caliber ammunition we were ordered to, if possible, find guns that could take different ammunition. I selected a Le-mat .40 caliber pistol and filled my pocket with appropriate bullets. We had captured fifty-four horses and mules, and three hundred seventy five prisoners. We suffered fifty-six casualties, seven of those in our company. These vacancies were filled by some of the artillerists and wagoners that were armed with available weapons, forming a reserve company. The captain promoted me to fill the place of the lieutenant that had fallen. That very day we marched out. The wounded were placed in two of the wagons. The prisoners were marched in the center of the troop among the wagons.
The colonel found a map on a dead Confederate officer. It showed all the important towns, factories, and troop positions. He found a hidden ford guarded by a small number of troops, as well as a railroad depot and ammunition factory that were also lightly guarded. He decided that we would swing left, attack, and destroy the factory; parole the prisoners; and then swing northwest and cross the ford into Union territory. The next two days were filled with tension and suspense as we carefully threaded our way among trees and around streams. We skirted towns and farms, avoiding civilization as much as possible. We did stop at a field far from a barn and rounded up a few dozen cattle. That night we had a feast. We were low on food and we enjoyed it immensely.
Soon we came to the supply depot. Across the road we settled down, watching the evening rays cast shadows among the train yard and ammo factory. Two companies had been left with the prisoners, cannon, and supply wagons. We brought one of the cannon with us. It was loaded with case shot. As the sun set, I settled down for the night to await four ëo clock: the set time for the raid.
As the sky turned gray, we cautiously advanced. Half a dozen men wheeled the cannon, getting it into range. The caisson was nestled among the trees with six guards. With a platoon of thirty, I proceeded to my goal, the big black engine and its load of cars. Suddenly a booming voice filled the air, ìHalt!î Then a crack from a musket sounded, and the man next to me was pushed backwards by the bullet. He recovered and fired in the general direction whence the shot had come. A ragged volley of musket fire responded. One man slid from his saddle and toppled to the ground. Pulling out my Le Mat I galloped towards the train. I pulled around the train and right into the guards that had been shooting at us. Only one had his musket loaded and in position, I fired and he dropped it on the ground. ìHands up!î I barked. They complied. ìGet the train open. Tell your men to surrender.î Quickly they obeyed. Two of my men came around the car carrying torches. Then I realized that I had been holding about twenty soldiers at bay. They hadnít realized that it was just me. But with more of my men coming by the moment they realized resistance would be fruitless. The warehouse and factory also had quickly been captured. The gun crew had taken the cannon back into the woods without notice. As the sun rose, we rounded up our new prisoners and began piling the ammo, supplies, and, equipment on the ground. A carload of Enfield muskets was piled into a train car and burned, the engine was blown up by a keg of powder. We ripped up the track for five hundred yards and twisted the heated ties around trees and train axles. Telegraph wire was pulled down and used to lash the large loads of ammo weíd captured on to wagons. We then paroled the prisoners. When we got back to camp we released those prisoners on parole and headed north. The long train of wagons slowed our rate, and to speed up our pace we dumped most of the wagons into a pond we came across. Then, with, our saddlebags loaded with ammo and food, we made full speed to the border. When we reached the ford we saw a full regiment of troops, much of it appeared to be cavalry. Thankfully there was no artillery. The colonel ordered us into our positions. Our artillery was positioned on a bluff a short distance away. Loading the guns with case shot our gunners prepared to sweep the area. Then, before, the Confederates could get reorganized we would sweep in on horseback and try to temporally gain control of the ford. Then the cannon would be galloped down under escort of the reserve company and head across the ford. Then we would fight a rear guard action while the rest of the companies got away.
When we were in position a cannon sounded then another and another. The battery fired as fast as they could. Case shot rained down among the Confederate camp. Horses whinnied and explosions sounded. Before the enemy could recover the first companies charged down hard on their right flank with the colonel himself in command. Our captain waited until most of the enemy units were committed to attacking the colonel. Then he ran down a group of infantry attempting to form a square. The captain shouted some orders and swept by the infantry with his platoon. They unloaded shot after shot from their Henry rifles into the tightly packed ranks. The infantry fired their muskets hitting some of our cavalry. My platoon swept down into their ranks. Then enemy cavalry hit us from behind! Ramming my Henry into its sheath I pulled out my saber and pistol. Confederate infantry and cavalry fought at close quarters with us using knives, swords, pistols, and even shotguns. Using my blade to block incoming blows and my pistol to fire at the enemy I fought hard into the enemies midst. Suddenly a man jumped on my horse from behind getting me into a headlock. Struggling to free myself, I swung my empty pistol, hitting the man on the head. He slid from my horse. Unexpectedly the captain came in with two platoons. He struck at the infantry and cavalry teeming around us sending them scattering across the field.
The colonel had shaken off his foes and now sounded the trumpet for the artillery to cross the ford. We positioned ourselves among the camp and quickly torched the few tents and supplies. The cannon and gunmen crashed through the ford, sending up a spray. Then the wounded were sent across including our captain. The colonel looked me in the eye and said, "Do you feel capable of commanding the rearguard?" I shook my head slightly "I donít think so, sir." "Don't worry, youíll do all right." He smiled and took the next company across the ford. By this time the enemy had regrouped and advanced through the woods, firing heavily. I had half the men dismount and hold the line there. Then their cavalry swept out of the woods trying to outflank us. My mounted men swept into action on my command. They Confederate cavalry broke and ran as son as my men opened fire with their Henrys. I ordered them back and was startled when they told me that they were out of ammunition. Quickly, I ordered them to turn what ammo they had over to my platoon, then they would pull back across the ford. Then I ordered the dismounted line to pull back slightly. My platoon would remain; the rest would mount up and leave. No more then thirty seconds after the last of the platoon entered the ford, the enemy charged trying to cut us off from the ford. The sergeant next to me pitched to the ground. Another cried out as a bullet struck his arm. Hurriedly, I ordered everyone to mount up and cross the ford. Pulling out my Le Mat, I fired shot after shot trying to buy time for my men. As the last man mounted I turned and followed, still firing my pistol. When it was empty, I slammed it in to its holster and pulled out my Henry. As I galloped across the ford a bullet hit my arm, my horse shied, and I slipped into the water. Using my rifle as a crutch, I heaved myself up, looking for my horse, but it was halfway across the ford. Suddenly, two of my men galloped down and heaved me up between them. I grabbed onto one of the men and we rode back to the regiment. In Union territory, we quickly met some infantry who gave us a hot meal and directions to the nearest fort. I was promoted to captain and given command of the company I served in. My captain took command of the regiment and our colonel was promoted to Brigadier General. Iíve been on many raids since then but I will always remember this one.