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| Maj. Gen. John B. Hood (Library of Congress) |
Coincidentally with the northward march of Longstreet's corps from the
vicinity of Millwood, Va., General Jeb. Stuart, at the head of all the cavalry
belonging to the Army of Northern Virginia, save the brigades of Robertson and
Imboden, began a ride that, whatever its aim and hope, served only to detach
his command from the army and deny to General Lee early and accurate
information of the movements of the Federal army. Not until June 29th did
General Lee learn, and then only through a scout traveling on foot, that
General Hooker had led the Union army to the north side of the Potomac, and was
marching it toward Gettysburg. This news called for an immediate change of
plan. Ewell's corps, then far to the
north on the march to Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, was
recalled, and A. P. Hill's corps was sent across South Mountain to Cashtown,
a little town on the turnpike leading from Chambersburg to Gettysburg, eight
miles east of the latter.
The Texas Brigade, on the afternoon of the 27th, camped in a grove
of magnificent timber about a mile north of Chambersburg. Commissary
trains were belated, and when long after dark they arrived,
brought only slender rations of rancid bacon and musty flour. In the
country roundabout there was a superabundance of all kinds of eatables. The
Federal soldiers that had marched through Virginia had taken, with the strong
hand, whatever they wanted from the people down there, not even offering to pay
in greenbacks. General Lee's order strictly prohibited depredations on private
property, but would there be any violation of that order if Confederate
soldiers persuaded the good citizens of Pennsylvania to sell them
provisions and accept in payment therefor Confederate money? Surely not.
There was no violence used, no threats of any kind made by any
Confederate soldier, and none of the citizens complained of having been
intimidated and robbed. The greater part of the supplies that found their
way into camp were paid for in Confederate money, the rest were voluntary
offerings. Soldiers as hungry as were the Confederates could not be
expected to refuse proffers of food, even when they suspected such
proffers were made through unwarranted fear of ill-treatment. The
demanding and the giving were both good-humored; not a house was entered
save upon invitation, or consent obtained; not a woman or child was frightened
or insulted, not a building was burned, or ransacked for hidden silver and
other valuables ; all that was wanted, all that was asked for, all that
was accepted, was food. And thus it happened that a member of the Fourth
Texas who came into the camp of the Texas Brigade after dark on the 30th
of June was able write as follows :
"Remembering the brigade late that night, at its camp near
Chambersburg, and being very tired, I lay down near the wagons and went to
sleep. Awakened next morning by Collins' bugle, and walking over to the
camp, I witnessed not only an unexpected but a wonderful and marvelous sight.
Every square foot of an acre of ground not occupied by a sleeping or
standing soldier, was covered with choice food for the hungry. Chickens,
turkeys, ducks and geese squawked, gobbled, quacked, cackled and hissed in
harmonious unison as deft and energetic hands seized them for slaughter, and
scarcely waiting for them to die, sent their feathers flying in all directions;
and scattered around in bewildering confusion and gratifying profusion appeared immense loaves of bread
and chunks of corned beef, hams, and
sides of bacon, cheeses, crocks of apple-butter, jelly, jam, pickles, and preserves,
bowls of yellow butter, demijohns of buttermilk, and other eatables too numerous to mention.
"The sleepers were the foragers of the night, resting from their
arduous labors — the standing men, their mess-mates who remained as camp-guards
and were now up to their eyes in noise,
feathers and grub. Jack Sutherland's head pillowed itself on a loaf of bread,
and one arm was wound caressingly half-around a juicy looking ham. Bob Murray, fearful that his
captives would take to their wings or be
purloined, had wound the string, which bound half a dozen frying chickens
around his right big toe; one of Brahan's widespread legs was embraced by
two overlapping crocks of apple-butter
and jam, while a tough old gander, gray with
age, squawked complainingly at his head without in the last disturbing
his slumber; Dick Skinner lay flat
on his back — with his right hand holding to the legs of three fat chickens and
a duck, and his left, to those of a large turkey — fast asleep and snoring in a
rasping bass voice that chimed in well with the music of the fowls.
"The scene is utterly indescribable, and I shall make no further
attempt to picture it. The hours
were devoted exclusively to gormandizing until, at 5 p. m.,marching orders
came, and leaving more provisions than they carried, the Texans moved lazily
and plethorically into line — their destination, Gettysburg."
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