Robert Campbell, courier on Brig. Gen. John Gregg's staff:
In the fall of 1863, Gen. Longstreet, with two divisions of his corps, (Hood's and McLaws') was ordered to Georgia to reinforce Gen. Bragg. This we did, and participated in the battle of "Chickamauga," after which we were ordered to Knoxville, Tennessee to lay siege to the place, and which was done without success.
In the latter part of April 1864, Gen. Longstreet found himself and corps in the vicinity of Bristol, on the Virginia and Tennessee line. About May 1st, 1864, we took up the line of March, and were transported to Cobham station, on the Virginia Central Railroad, near Charlottesville. At this place new clothing, guns, bayonets, ammunition and ample provisions were issued to our corps, and we were reviewed by Generals Lee and Longstreet. At that time our corps contained only the two divisions that Longstreet took with him to Georgia. . . .
We took up the line of march from Cobham station about the 2nd or 3rd of May—which, I now forget—and continued on a steady march until the night of the 5th, going into camp about 7 or 8 p. m. Late in the evening of the 5th we heard the report of cannon, and were informed that we were near Gen. Lee's army. We did not know at the time that the grand battle of the "Wilderness" had begun on the 5th, and merely deemed the report of cannon "a feeling of the enemy's position." At this time, as I had been for several months, I was acting on Gen. Gregg's staff as courier— and in a position to see and know all that I have, or may hereafter relate.
By 3 a. m., on the morning of the 6th, the long roll beat, the men were aroused, under arms, and the march soon began, we moved steadily on, though rather at a rapid pace, with the "Texas Brigade" leading the van of Gen. Field's division. By daylight, or perhaps a little later, we had reached the turnpike known as the "Fredericksburg Turnpike." By daylight the boom of cannon, and the distant rattle of small arms, were borne upon the breeze, and knowing that the two armies were immediately facing each other, we recognized that a grand battle had begun, and we would soon be called upon to act well our part. Reaching the turnpike, we took the direction leading to Fredericksburg, and before going very far not only was our speed accelerated, but Gen. Kershaw's division (the other division of our corps) occupied the pike side and side with us, and thus situated, the two divisions moved rapidly down the pike in the direction of the firing—the men of separate commands mingling one with another.
When moving down this pike, the sun rose beautifully, but to the notice of all had a deep, red color, and the brave Gen. Gregg, upon seeing this, remarked to those who were riding near him, "there is the sun of Austerlitz"—a prophecy that found verification ere it sunk to rest among the sombre shades of night. The nearer our steps led us towards the firing, the din of battle became louder and more terrible.
Faster and faster our columns moved on to the scene of conflict, until we were almost at a double-quick. Directly horsemen came dashing to and fro; aids were cantering about; ambulances containing the wounded went flying to the rear ; litters with their unfortunate burdens were moving towards the hospitals; stragglers without number were flocking back with tales of distress, annihilation and defeat—all these signs betokened that bloody and desperate work was going on, and that too not many yards distant. A half mile more, and by 6 o'clock, we found ourselves upon the scene. Both of our divisions mingled together in one mass upon the turnpike. . . .
The position where we found ourselves upon being halted, was near the brink of a hill which gradually sloped down for the distance of 200 yards, where immediately began the dense undergrowth known as the wilderness. The turnpike led over and down this hill and continued on into the wilderness. Immediately at the turn of the hill, where the turn-pike or plank-road passed, hasty breastworks were partially constructed and under construction; and along these were strewn a body of stragglers that had been rallied, as well as some half dozen pieces of artillery that were playing upon the dense wilderness below. Near this hasty defense we found, upon our arrival, our loved commander-in-chief, Gen. Lee, Gen. Longstreet, their staffs, and bodyguards. I have often seen Gen. Lee, but never did I see him so excited, so disturbed—never did anxiety or care manifest itself before so plainly upon his countenance. If I mistake not he was almost moved to tears—if in error, others share it with me, and his voice was anxious and tremulous. . . .
As we stood upon this hill, Lee excited and in close consolation with Longstreet. . . . The cannon thundered, musketry rolled, stragglers were fleeing, couriers riding here and there in posthaste, minnies began to sing, the dying and wounded were jolted by the flying ambulances, and filling the road-side, adding to the excitement the terror of death. The "Texas brigade," was in front of Field's division—while "Humphrey's brigade" of Mississippians led the van of Kershaw's division.
The consultation ended. Gen. Gregg and Gen. Humphrey were ordered to form their brigades in line of battle, which was quickly done, and we found ourselves near the brow of the hill, Gregg on the left, Humphrey on the right. "Gen. Gregg prepare to move." was the order from Gen. L.
About this time, Gen. Lee, with his staff, rode up to Gen. Gregg. "General what brigade is this?" said Lee.
"The Texas brigade," was General G.'s reply.
"I am glad to see it," said Lee. "When you go in there, I wish you to give those men the cold steel—they will stand and fire all day, and never move unless you charge them."
"That is my experience," replied the brave Gregg.
By this time an aid from General Longstreet rode up and repeated the order, "advance your command, Gen. Gregg." And now comes the point upon which the interest of this "o'er true tale" hangs. "Attention Texas Brigade" was rung upon the morning air, by Gen. Gregg, "the eyes of General Lee are upon you, forward, march." Scarce had we moved a step, when Gen. Lee, in front of the whole command, raised himself in voice, explained above the din of confusion of the hour, "Texans always move them."
. . . never before in my lifetime or since, did I ever witness such a scene as was enacted when Lee pronounced these words, with the appealing look that he gave. A yell rent the air that must have been heard for miles around, and but few eyes in that old brigade of veterans and heroes of many a bloody field was undimmed by honest, heart-felt tears. Leonard Gee, a courier to Gen. Gregg, and riding by my side, with tears coursing down his cheeks and yells issuing from his throat exclaimed, "I would charge hell itself for that old man." It was not what Gen. Lee said that so infused and excited the men, as his tone and look, which each one of us knew were born to the dangers of the hour.
With yell after yell we moved forward, passed the brow of the hill, and moved down the declivity towards the undergrowth—a distance in all not exceeding 200 yards. After moving over half the ground we saw that Gen. Lee was following us into battle—care and anxiety upon his countenance—refusing to come back at the request and advice of his staff. If I recall correctly, the brigade halted when they discovered Gen. Lee's intention, and all eyes turned upon him. Five and six of his staff would gather around him, seize him, his arms, his horse's reins, but he shook them off and moved forward. Thus did he continue just before we reached the undergrowth, not, however, until the balls began to fill and whistle threw the air. Seeing that we would do all that men could do to retrieve the misfortune of the hour, accepting the advice of his staff, and hearkening to the protest of his advancing soldiers, he at last turned round and rode back to a position on the hill.
We reached the undergrowth—entered it with a yell, and in less than 100 yards came face to face with the advancing, triumphant, and sanguine foe—confronted only by a few brave souls who could only fire and yield their ground. The enemy were at least five or six to one of us, and death seemed to be our portion. With only 15 or 20 paces separating us, the contest waxed hotter and deadlier. We gave a cheer and tried a charge, but with our handful of men our only success was to rush up to them, shoot them down, and shove them back some 10 to 15 yards. For 25 minutes we held them steady—not a foot did they advance, and at the expiration of that time more than half of our brave fellows lay around us dead, dying and wounded, and the few survivors could stand it no longer. By order of Gen. Gregg, whose manly form was seen wherever danger gloried most—I bore the order to the 5th and 1st Texas [probably the 4th], to fall back in order.
After retreating some 50 yards, a most deafening yell was borne upon the breeze, and ere we were prepared to realize its cause, Gen. Longstreet's corps came sweeping by us, reformed, and reinforced by Gen. Anderson's division, and with a valor that stands unrivaled swept everything before them for three long miles—driving, in that long charge, the yankees from four different lines of breastworks that they had thrown up in their rear. The "Battle of the Wilderness" was won—all other fighting by the enemy that day and the next was to prevent defeat from terminating in destruction.
The object, reader, of the advance made by Gregg and Humphrey, was to hold the enemy in check, to give Longstreet time to reform his corps. We accomplished our objective.
The "Texas Brigade" entered the fight 673 strong. We lost, in killed and wounded over 450 [the actual strength was around 800-850 engaged and anywhere from 440-565 losses according to different sources]. Did we or did we not do all that men could? Gen. Gregg entered the fight with at least 12 commissioned and non-commissioned on his staff. Of these, several were killed, some wounded, and only two horses untouched. Gen. G's. horse was pierced by 5 balls—each creating a mortal wound—though he rode him until we fell back—sent him to the rear where he died. My task is finished—and I have only to say if there ever lived a brave, fearless, unflinching and noble soldier—if ever there breathed a pure and honest patriot, he is to be found in that mouldering dust of a certain coffin in Hollywood cemetery, which contains the remains of Brig. Gen. Jno. Gregg, who fell near Richmond, Va., Oct. 7th. 1864, one of the best, the truest, the noblest men that Texas ever claimed.
- "Texans always move them." by Robert Campbell in The Land We Love, 1868, Vol. 5
Bringing the