- Joined
- Jul 23, 2017
- Location
- Southwest Missouri
Union story # 1 - from 'Rifle Shots and Bugle Notes'
One incident of this field is as fresh in memory as if it occurred yesterday. Near the edge of the creek on the right of the road leading to Farmville was a natural rifle-pit formed by the wash of heavy rains. It was covered by an enfilading fire from our batteries on the opposite hills.
Passing by this road the morning after the fight, the gulch was almost filled with rebel dead, which were also thickly strewn along the road and through the woods on the left. Kneeling on the body of a fallen comrade, with his hands uplifted as if in prayer, his eyes open and a placid smile on his face, was a handsome Confederate soldier.
Approaching to give him succor if wounded, and willing to accept his surrender, we were shocked to find him dead. It impressed us greatly and there was silence for a while as our reluctant horses picked their way through this harvest of death.
Union story #2 - from 'Blue and Gray: The Patriotic Magazine' Volume 2 by General Horatio King (Battle of Sailor's Creek)
Wiggins did not return, but that did not worry us much, because he was so erratic; but the next morning when he did not report. Devin asked me to take a detail from the 5th cavalry and look him up. We crossed over the creek, and the sight I then saw I have never forgotten.
That raking fire had done its deadly work. The ground was so thick with corpses the horses would not move. You can't make a horse tread on a live or a dead body if he can help it, and the dead were so thick there was no chance to jump them. So we had to get down, move the bodies aside, and make our examination on foot.
On the right of the road was that natural rifle-pit I have spoken about, and it was filled with Confederate soldiers. I had noticed this from a little distance, and as I came nearer I saw a soldier kneeling, with his eyes open, and his hands clasped above his head, as if in prayer. The form set my heart beating wildly; I approached it, and, as I live, it was Wiggins!
His face bore a triumphant smile, as if dying in the hour of victory. Close to his heart was the package he had asked me to take charge of. It was only a daguerreotype, of a very sweet woman, and in the ease were these words: " I lived for her and my country. I shall rejoice to die for my country that I may be with her."
Wiggins was a strange fellow, and I guess I was the only one of our staff who even approximately understood him.