A collection of bedtime stories - or sharpshooter & sniper tales

[Cowboynemo]

Thanks Gary,

I have seen his pension request....On Ancestry.com...but there’s nothing about "race", I need to get into his enlistment file.

He is described in a 1894 Norton County,Kansas news article as "a ruputed
indian...see below article....from Ardie...Norton County Gen. Society

Source: Norton County News,
Historical Number 1870-1916, published October 1916.,pg12 & 54

"John Fuller who was reputed part Indian - perhaps from
his swarthy complexion, was well known at every target
shooting match in early times, having been a crack
shot with his long muzzle-loading rifle, came from
Michigan in June 1872, and settled on land now owned
by Sam Jones, one mile from Calvert. He sold his farm
in 1879 and returned to Michigan and died there in
1886 "

The History of the Early Settlement of Norton County,
Kansas, 1894, by F. M. Lockard

Ardie
Norton County GenWeb admin

John Cephus Fuller actually didn't die but moved from Michigan in 1885...into the hills of Hardy,Arkansas...then move to Cherokee Co., Kansas in 1917-1918...and died in Scammon in 1923. He's buried in Hosey Hill Cemetery in Wier, Kansas...with a Michigan Sharpshooter headstone....he must have been proud of his service.

 

[scrat]

Hey Gary do you have any more Bed Time Stories. Andy why cant we Sticky this to the first page. This has the best reading material around. I hate to post on it but i would just love to see it on the top of the forum. Or our blackpowder page.

 

[scrat]

Here is one for you

GRAPE(S) SHOT IN THE FRYING PAN. #12


"Hello, John Wilson, haven’t you a ‘Narrow Escape’ for the Register."


"I don’t know. I was in several close places."


"Well, we want your closest call."


"Well, I believe that was at Winchester. I was in Co. D, 23d O. V. I., President Hayes’ old regiment. Our regiment saw a good deal of hard service. At Cloyd Mountain, we lost 38 killed and wounded out of my company. I have had holes shot through my blouse several times, but I consider my ‘Narrow Escape’ occurred at Winchester, July 28th, 1864. We were in line of battle 3 or 4 miles above Winchester. The rebels charged on us, and the first thing I knew my company was scattering and falling back, getting away in different directions as fast as the boys could ‘hoof’ it. They all seemed to be seeking more healthy quarters. To save myself, I started too. I had fallen back, I suppose, a couple hundred yards or such a matter, trying to get out of reach of their guns. In order to get under cover or some apple trees, I obliqued to the right. I didn’t go but a very short distance that way until they opened on us with grape and canister. I had obliqued off to the right, as I said before, to try to get under cover of the apple trees, while the dust kept flying around me powerfully. All at once I felt as if a man had struck me terrible blow across the back. I fell to the earth, but soon scrambled to my feet, glad I wasn’t killed, and kept going from there. I took along a row of apple trees and ran my best, while the apples rained like hail about my ears, as a result of the enemy’s firing.


"We kept up our retreat till we reached Bunker Hill. There we fell into line of battle again, and when the rebs came up, gave them another volley. While we were in line of battle here, a boy named Cubbage asked:


"John, what make your frying pan handle stick out so straight?"


"I answered: ‘I must have caught it on an apple tree limb and bent it.’


"But, upon examining my knapsack to see what was the matter, I found a grape shot imbedded in the pan. It had passed through my oil blanket and woolen blanket, and bent up my frying pan until it looked like a ____ ___. I was glad it was the pan, though, and not myself that was drawn up so."


"Well, that we indeed interesting," added the reporter. "The more I gather in these narrow escapes, the more varied and interesting they become. Thank you, John."


"You’re welcome, sir."

 

[scrat]

The Lawrence Registry Narrow Escapes #1

NARROW ESCAPES
SOME EXCITING WAR EXPERIENCES NO. 1


MAYOR CORNS' EXPERIENCE


Ironton Register, Thursday, November 18, 1886


"What was your ‘narrow escape’ in the army?" we asked of Mayor Corns, of the old Second Va. Cavalry, as he stood smoking his morning stoga, before the big cannon stove of his office, last Monday.


"Oh, I had several that I thought was pretty narrow-- narrow enough to make my flesh creep when I even think of them now."


"But," said we, "what was the little the worst fix you got into while serving Uncle Sam?"


"Well, sir, about the worst fix," replied the Mayor, and he laughed and shuddered at the same time, "was when our division under Custer attacked Fitzhugh Lee, on the evening after the battle of Sailor’s Creek-- that was the 7th of April, 1865, two days before the surrender at Appomatox. Lee was trying to get off with a big wagon train, and Custer had orders to intercept him and capture the train if possible. Just at nightfall, we caught up with Fitzhugh Lee’s cavalry, down there not very far from Farmville. The enemy had gone into camp for the night. They were in the woods and had thrown up piles of rails as a protection against attack. We had a heavy line of skirmishes which were soon driven in, and then, having discovered the enemy’s line, Custer ordered a general charge. There were about 7000 cavalry and we went in with a rush, but after a bitter little fight we were repulsed. We ran into a ditch or drain in the charge and that upset our calculations. We piled into that ditch with considerable confusion and were glad to get out, without bringing any rebs with us. Our lines were soon reformed and another charge sounded. It was then after dark, but the moon was shining brightly. It was an open meadow over which we charged, and save the drain, was a pretty place for a cavalry fight, for those who liked that kind of business."


"After the charge was sounded and we were on full gallop, lo and behold the enemy was charging too, and the two divisions of cavalry met in a hand to hand fight in the middle of the plain. It was an awfully mixed up affair. We couldn’t tell friend from foe half the time. We had been on the go so much that our blue uniforms were dust-colored and about as gray as the rebels’. It was the biggest free fight ever I got into, and every fellow whacked away and tried to kill every fellow he came to. It happened, however, that I got in with a little squad of six or eight of our boys, and we kept together until we found ourselves completely within the enemy’s lines, with the rebs’ banging away all around us. Our army was getting the best of the fight, and gradually pushing the rebs back, and of course we went back with the rebel line. It looked scaly for us. I saw Johnny Connelly near me and said to him, "This is a bad fix--we must get cut of this." And he said, "Yes, and here are five or six others of us right near." I got them together, for I was a Lieutenant commanding a company, and said, "Boys, we must charge to the rear and join our army," and one of the boys said, "Here goes," and started, and we were all about to put after him, but just as I started, a reb who was just in front of me, and who I thought was one of our boys, whirled around and, drawing his saber, called out, "Surrender, you d----d Yankee," at the same time bringing the saber down toward my head with fearful velocity. I dodged and the saber struck my shoulder, but did not cut the flesh as I had on an overcoat with a bear-skin collar. The blade went right through these, but stopped at the flesh, but it paralyzed my arm, which fell to my side. He did it so quickly that I had no time to parry. But missing my head, he quickly drew his saber for another stroke, and I would have got it the next time clean through my head, but just as the reb had the saber at its full height for another blow, a First N. Y. Cavalryman struck his carbine right against the fellow’s head, and exclaiming "Not this time, Johnny," blazed away and shot the reb.’s head just about off. Then we scampered to the rear, but hadn’t gone far when we got into the ragged edge of our own line and felt ourselves considerably safer. In getting out of there, three balls struck me, but I consider the narrowest escape, was when that New York Cavalryman stuck his carbine at the reb’s head and presented the blow which would have gone right through my head, as sure as fate. The narrowness of the escape was intensified by the fact that the war only lasted two days longer."
"Before we got out of there, Johnny Connelly was shot crazy, but I snatched his horse’s rein and got him within our lines. He was sent back to the field hospital and I never saw him since; but if ever I come across that N. Y. Cavalryman, I’ll take him home, set him down in the best rocking chair in the front parlor, and feed him on mince pie and roast turkey as long as he lives."


"Well, we drove Fitzhugh Lee back, captured his camp, and got a great many prisoners, a large proportion of whom were drunk. We found applejack by the bucketfuls all through the camp, but we were not allowed to touch a drop, though my arm hurt me terribly bad."


"Well, Mr. Corns, that was a ‘narrow escape.’"


"Narrow! Well, I should say so, and I sometimes have to feel up there to be sure my head ain’t split in two yet."

 

[4v50 Gary]

Scrat - never thought of making it a sticky. Anyhow, if you want non-sharpshooting stories that are a lot of fun, consider this thread at TFL: Rambling Anecdotes There's some great stories from other members there at that thread. I try to keep the non-sharpshooting stories at TFL and the sharpshooting stories at THR.

My editor got four chapters back to me last week. I've gone over two over them and made the changes. Have to check some material on them too. I've started working on the third chapter and hope to have everything done by this week. Progress! So, here's the bedtime story for the week.

“The day was spent quietly, save for occasional sharpshooting. The Federals moved up within sight, but made no demonstration. About noon one enterprising rifleman climbed a tree in a farmyard some hundred yard in our front, and wounded two of the men who were throwing up cover for the guns. It was some time before his eyrie was discovered, but finally one Mississippian obtained permission to ‘hunt’ for him, and fifteen minutes later spied him out, and with a long shot brought the troublesome marksman down from his lofty perch, the body falling like that of a wounded squirrel from limb to limb until it struck the ground. Looking at the descent through my field-glasses I could almost hear the thud. The next morning when we advanced an old woman living in the cabin near by reported that the man was dead when picked up."

 

[4v50 Gary]

Duck sucker!

Sorry for the irreverence, but here's an account of one who got away.

When we fell back to the woods I was leaning against a tree, General M. at the other side talking to me, when a bullet struck the tree over our heads. I remarked-

"General, that was fired by a sharpshooter; they have range of you; we'd better leave this."

"On, no; it's but a chance shot."

Just as he spoke another bullet lodged behind our heads.

"They are improving, general," I remarked.

"Well, Yes; I think it is time to leave now."

"I thought so long since, general."

 

[scrat]

thank you sir may we have another

 

[4v50 Gary]

George F. was out skirmishing on his own hook. One of Howard's regiments was falling back, when the lad, from shelter of a big tree, saw a rebel sharpshooter rise from behind a log and fire after them. George at once covered him and took him prisoner. It was rather an amusing sight to see the little lad manly marching at a charge-bayonet, escorting his big prisoner to the rear.

Over a year ago, The Company of Military Historians published my article, Sharpshooters as Prisoners. That excerpt was not included and there's a reason why. It's esoteric but anyone who reads the book (still in the editor's hands) will understand why.

 

[4v50 Gary]

A Southern Boy in France

Trenches. Mud. Incessant shelling. Gas. Barbed wire. Machine guns mowing down waves of attackers. Those images are conjured when World War I is mentioned. Imagine if you will a Regular British officer who was a captain at war's outbreak. It's now 1918 and he meets a young, American subaltern. The Americans, fresh from home, and spend a day in the trenches to learn their trade from their cousins across the pond.

"A company of the 3/120 American Regiment is in the Line, attached to my battalion. Yesterday the commander of the regiment, Major Phillips, accompanied me on my rounds. The Americans are big, manly fellows, free from brag and anxious to lean; but from our point of view they are a little careless about their duties and loose too much of their gear. They are excellent friends with our men, and have expressed their gratitude, so I hear, for the return of a portion of their missing rations. The Americans are naturally strange to this life and, for practice, relieve their platoons, mixed up with ours, every night. The company commander does not impress me, but his senior subaltern is a splendid young fellow. I asked him what kind of shots his men are; he replied in a slow drawl, 'Well, sair, I guess they got lots of practice on Revenue offiers in Arizona.'"

 

[4v50 Gary]

Full length article

of mine published by The Company of Military Historians may be found republished right here. The CMH will be releasing my only aviation article soon.

 

[4v50 Gary]

An incident at Gettysburg?

It is said that Gouveneur Warren watched with keen interest the Berdan sharpshooters at work and couldn’t withstand the temptation. “It was here that General Warren thought he could use one of the heavy rifles better than the man who had it. After firing it a few times, with what effect no one could tell, his own neck was grazed by a rebel bullet. He bound it up with his handkerchief and relinquished the rifle.” Warren modestly mentions his wound in a post war letter: “I was wounded with a musket ball while talking with Lieutenant Hazlett on the hill, but not seriously...”

Warren has been called the hero of Little Round Top. As an engineer, he was among the first to recognize its importance. Its capture would expose the Union flank and imperil the Union position at Gettysburg. Warren sent an aide to bring up men. The aide was intercepted by Col. Strong Vincent who, upon learning of the urgency of the situation, took the initiative and rushed his own brigade without orders up to Little Round Top. Vincent didn't survive the battle but one of his subordinates became famous. His name, Joshua Chamberlain of the 20th Maine.

Gettysburg magazine will release my article on sharpshooting at Gettysburg in their June 2008 issue. Sometime in June, click Here for more info.

 

[4v50 Gary]

I spoke with the editor on Thursday and he promised me the last chapters on Sunday. I'm crossing my fingers and if it's done, then I can get the book designed. Obviously it's too late for this year.

Besides having a 13,000 word article in Gettysburg, Muzzle Blasts has published my article on Pontiac's Rebellion and Bushy Run. Unfortunately, somehow the date changed 1763 to 1863. Well, in the greater scheme of things, one century isn't that bad. At least it wasn't 1963.

Here's something from the Gettysburg article:

When the battle had ended and the brigade was standing in lines close to the town, Colonel Brockenbrough and I occupied positions in the rear of the line; and near us were Capt. A. Brockenbrough and Lt. Addison Hall Crittenden. First one and then the other of these two gallant officers fell mortally wounded, although no Yankee was in sight. It was the work of sharpshooters concealed in a large wooden building on our left. I took the liberty of causing a company to fire a volley in the house and put a stop to the murderous villainy.

Like the "terrorist" and "freedom fighter" issue, when it's your sharpshooters it's your gallant men and when it's the enemy's, then its murderous villainy. If you can get the Gettysburg article, there is some insight in how to interpret all these bedtime stories that have been posted here.

 

[4v50 Gary]

I met with my editor on Friday night and we spoke at length about the book. He enjoyed it and said that the research was meticulous. Best of all, he handed the final chapter over last night and the changes are being incorporated over this weekend. I'll be meeting with someone to design it this week and hopefully that won't take too long. The edited manuscript will be sent to someone famous for an afterword for inclusion in the book. In the meantime, here's another bedtime story. It's an excerpt from the article on the sharpshooting at Gettysburg:

In the previous day’s battle, Bucktail Colonel Charles F. Taylor had been killed and Lt. Col. Alanson E. Niles wounded. Command fell to Maj. W. Ross Hartshorne, who, realizing they could be enfiladed from Devil’s Den, sent skirmishers followed by Captains John Wolfe (Co. F) and Frank Bell (Co. I) out. “The vicinity of Devil’s Den was admirably suited to the tactics employed by the Bucktails, as cover both rocks and trees abounded. Possessing Sharps rifles, they were able to reload, when necessary, without exposing any portion of their bodies, an advantage not possessed by their opponents. Utilizing this advantage to the utmost, they poured in a hot fire. The fire in return immediately became severe, and, using the skirmishing tactics taught by Col. Kane they crept nearer, of an intensity that plainly showed that the enemy was far too strong numerically to be routed by the small force sent against them. The Bucktails, therefore, stayed behind cover, devoting themselves to picking off their antagonists whenever chances offered. At this game they entirely outclassed the Confederates, who, quickly realizing that their numbers were being steadily depleted without their opponents suffering a compensating loss, left their protection and charged. To stand against such numbers would have been farcical, so the two companies beat a hasty retreat and succeeded in rejoining the other companies of the regiment behind the stone wall.” In retreating, Capt. Bell’s leg was shot and his limb was amputated.

 

[scrat]

Wow its good to hear finally at the end. Cant wait to get a copy of that book

 

[4v50 Gary]

Two sharpshooters, a dummy and patience helps to get their man

Here's a little counter-sniping story from long ago.

I stood for a moment in ‘the open,’ and a bullet whizzed close to my head. I failed to comprehend its significance, but when another leaden messenger seemed to pass me closer, and I heard its contact with a tree just beyond me, it dawned upon my mind that I was the target for a rebel sharpshooter. I soon spied an object beyond the chimney of a house across the field, distant about four hundred yards. I satisfied myself that a ‘Johnny’ was behind the chimney on the roof, and then sent a message to our sharpshooters who were endeavoring to protect us from just such fellows as this one proved to be. Two experts responded to my summons and they began a ceaseless vigil with the purpose of killing or disabling the daring rifleman behind the chimney. They finally prepared an effigy and advanced it to the open plot where I had been exposed, and immediately a head was revealed from behind the chimney, and a rifle bullet sped across the field. We heard its ‘zip’ as it passed the effigy, and then we knew what before we had only surmised. The rebel behind the chimney was determined to slay anyone who came within the range of his rifle. Little suspecting that he had been detected, he again thrust his head from concealment for another shot, but before he had time to bring his rifle into position, a bullet from our men passed through the intervening space and we saw a human body roll down the shingled roof to the ground. That was the last of him and the last annoyance we had from that chimney

All the chapters have been edited and now the editor is working on the endnotes for them. I'm scurrying back and forth checking my citations and my quotes and he is making me work my arse off. Sometimes it's tough to find a book among several bookcases which aren't well organized.

 

[4v50 Gary]

Teamwork

In the following example, we have the teamwork of three men. One stalked while the other two distracted. Another lesson - never shoot from the same place. Once your location is known, get out of there if you can.

"Across from our picket line there was a Federal sharpshooter hidden behind a clay root, whose fire was very accurate and very galling, and several men on our side had been pitted against him without success. James N. was told of it. He sent two of his companions some distance to the left, instructing them to conceal themselves and fire at the clay root continuously and as rapidly as they could, whether they saw the man behind it or not. James, in the meantime, moved a little in the other direction, so as to attack the clay root from a different angle. His instructions were followed, and the two soon had the attention of the man at the clay root centered on themselves. Meantime the Yank exposed himself a little to the unerring aim of Norwood. Soon the Yankee's gun was seen to fly up, he dropped out of sight, and there was no further annoyance from that quarter."

I'll be off-line for a week. I'm taking a wood carving and silver wire inlay class for long rifles. Behave and keep your powder dry.

 

[4v50 Gary]

Had a lot of fun at Conner Prairie. I brought four books to read along the way and none of them were on the Civil War. One was on the Seminole War, one on the Modoc War and two on the Fur Trade era that preceded the Civil War.

Silver wire inlay wasn't that hard but I'm going to have to practice to become better. The other class was relief carving. My previous instructors used the stamping technique where you matched up the gouge with the shape that you want cut. You need a lot of gouges (and a pen knife) to do this technique. My last instructor used a steep "V" gouge and it was very quick.

One day after class, I met with some guys from a Civil War website and after dinner, we talked for about three hours. Another day I visited a tank museum in Crawfordsville as well as the study of General Lew Wallace. Wallace was scapegoated for Shiloh but later redeemed himself at Monocacy where he was beatened by Jubal Early. His defeat was Early's phyrric victory as Early was slowed down enough for Union reinforcements to arrive to defend Washington. Wallace gained post-war fame as the novelist who wrote Ben Hur. Above the entrance to the study you can see the face of Ben Hur as envisioned by Wallace. Check it out if you get a chance. Besides having his books, some uniform items, swords, there's also a "sharpshooter" rifle that Wallace picked up from Shiloh battlefield.

Now, without further ado, here's an excerpt from Gettysburg.

Fighting to the right of the Iron Brigade was Brigadier General Roy Stone’s Bucktail Brigade. The Bucktail Brigade, composed of the 143rd Pennsylvania and the 149th and 150th Pennsylvania Bucktail regiments, was inspired by the famous Bucktails (Thirteenth Pennsylvania Reserve Regiment). Before the battle, Bucktail Pvt. Joe Ruhl called out to fellow private Joe Gutelius, “[R]emember that you have the post of honor, Joe, if any man pulls down that flag, shoot him on the spot!” “Never you fear for that,” Gutelius responded, “We of the color-guard will look out for the flag. For my part, I’ll stay a dead man on the field before the colors of the 150th are disgraced.” After the first day’s heavy fighting, Gutelius, along with many others of the color guard were dead and their colors captured. Bucktail Corporal Rodney Conner, “As we were going through the town, and just when I was opposite the stone-yard, a column of rebels came charging down a cross-street and cut off about a hundred men with me. A rebel captain seized the colors from my hand, and the next minute he went down. Another officer went to him, and he gave him the colors and told him to present them to President Davis, with his compliments.” The “officer” was “Lieutenant Harvey, Fourteenth North Carolina sharpshooters, commanding sharpshooters, deserves special praise for his daring conduct. He whipped a Yankee regiment (150th Pennsylvania) with his sharpshooters, and took their regimental colors from them with his own hands.”

 

[4v50 Gary]

Remember reading Hesketh-Prichard's Sniping in France? He mentioned approaching loopholes and how it was important to keep them dark so as not to divulge their location. Nothing new as it was practiced in the Civil War too.

“Each man was required to carry his rations for the day, and one hundred rounds of ammunition, and generally disposed of both rations and cartridges before returning to camp. These sharpshooters were stationed in the advance trenches, and it was their duty, so far as possible, to keep the enemy’s sharpshooters quiet, and silence the guns. To do this was a very dangerous task and required the utmost vigilence. It was almost sure death for a man to show his head above the breastworks, and extra protection was obtained by piling up coarse gunny bags filled with sand. Loop-holes were obtained at proper intervals by leaving the ends of the lower bags about two inches apart and then filling up with sand so as to leave the hole about three inches high. It was not safe to watch through these holes, and precautions had to be taken to get into ‘position,’ as ‘darkening’ the loop-hole was sure to draw the fire of the ever watchful enemy, unless he thought our men were fooling him."

 

[BHP FAN]

''They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance..."

Sedgwick fell at the beginning of the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House, on May 9, 1864. His corps was probing skirmish lines ahead of the left flank of Confederate defenses and he was directing artillery placements. Confederate sharpshooters were about 1,000 yards (910 m) away and their shots caused members of his staff and artillerymen to duck for cover. Sedgwick strode around in the open and was quoted as saying, "What? Men dodging this way for single bullets? What will you do when they open fire along the whole line? I am ashamed of you. They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance." Although ashamed, his men continued to flinch and he repeated, "I'm ashamed of you, dodging that way. They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance."[1] Just seconds later he fell forward with a bullet hole below his left eye.[2][3]

Sedgwick was the highest ranking Union casualty (the most senior by date of rank of all major generals killed) of the Civil War. Upon hearing of his death, Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant repeatedly asked, "Is he really dead?"[3]

 

[4v50 Gary]

One brave Texan at Devil's Den

To improve their position, the Texans piled rocks from which they could fight behind. First Texas Company L’s William J. Barbee didn’t bother fighting from cover. “Sgt. Barbee... having reached a rock a little in advance of the line, stood erect on top of it, loading and firing as cooly as if unconscious of danger, while the air around him was fairly swarming with bullets.” He stood “erect, exposed and fearless” atop a huge boulder, aiming and firing as if he were on a target range. Many Yankees fell to his unerring aim. Wounded comrades would load for him while he fired shot after shot. After he was wounded in the left thigh, he continued to fire another twenty-five times until he was wounded in the other leg. Even then, he refused to desist until carried away.

 

[4v50 Gary]

Another incident from Gettysburg

Here's another tidbit from the battle called the High Water Mark of the Confederacy.

Walking upright to encourage the men was Brigadier-General Leopold von Gilsa. Pvt. George Roth of Co. C recalled their conspicuous general drawing fire. “While we were entrenched at Gettysburg our Brigadier General, von Gilsa, passing our Company, wondered whether the bullets whistling near his head were intended for him.” Von Gilsa was not as ignorant as Roth speculated. Pvt. Isaac Smith of Co. K recalled: “General von Gilsa was walking around, in open sight of the many sharpshooters and I told him he had better sit down. He replied, ‘Perhaps I had better; for they may keep on shooting at me all day.’” Pvt. Roth continued: “About that time comrade Aaron espied a sharpshooter in a tree in front of us, and soon brought him down. When the General was told about it he asked to see Comrade Aaron, thanked him, and handed him a green back.”

 

[4v50 Gary]

British Lieutenant Colonel George Hanger had many opportunities to observe the American rifleman. He relates one experience:

“Colonel, now General Tarleton, and myself, were standing a few yards out of a wood, observing the situation of a part of the enemy which we intended to attack. There was a rivulet in the enemy’s front, and a mill on it, to which we stood directly with our horses’ heads fronting, observing their motions. It was an absolute plain field between us and the mill; not so much as a single bush on it. Our orderly-bugle stood behind us, about three yards, but with his horse’s side to our horses’ tails. A rifleman passed over the mill-dam, evidently observing two officers, and laid himself down on his belly; for, in such positions, they always lie, to take a good shot at a long distance. He took deliberate and cool shot at my friend, at me, and the bugle-horn man. Now, observe how well this fellow shot. It was in the month of August, and not a breath of wind was stirring. Colonel Tarleton’s horse and mine, I am certain, were not anything like two feet apart; for we were in close consultation, how we should attack with our troops, which laid 300 yards in the wood, and could not be perceived by the enemy. A rifle-ball passed between him and me: looking directly to the mill, I evidently observed the flash of powder. I directly said to my friend, “I think we had better move, or we shall have two or three of these gentlemen, shortly, amusing themselves at our expense.” The words were hardly out of my mouth, when the bugle-horn man, behind us, and directly central, jumped off his horse, and said, “Sir, my horse is shot.” The horse staggered, fell down, and died. He was shot directly behind the fore-leg, near to the heart, at least where the great blood-vessels lie, which lead to the heart.”

 

[goon]

BTT - I haven't owned any blackpowder guns for awhile but I still check in over here once in awhile just for this thread.

 

[4v50 Gary]

Among Jackson’s men was D. C., Co. G, Fourteenth Georgia: “[O]n December 13th, our corps was attacked by Franklin’s corps, sixty thousand strong. At this time we were entrenched behind a railroad a short distance in front of a skirt of shrub oak. The enemy’s charge was made through an open field and was so furious our first line was driven back into the woods, where we stopped to reform. The enemy stopped at the railroad which they used for breastworks. The distance between us was about one hundred yards, and for some time we engaged in a hot infantry duel. We were ordered to lie down to shoot, but had to stand on our knees to load. I recall now, vividly, a Yankee in the ditch just in front of me, who wore a red coat and who seemed to be a particularly good shot. Every time he raised up from behind the embankment someone was killed near me. Sergeant Dobbs, Corporal Callahan and his brother were among the number. I pointed out the man to Captain Monger, who told me to load my gun and kill the d___ Yankee. I followed instructions as closely as possible, held my fire until he raised up, took deliberate aim, and fired. Much to my relief we did not see him again during the engagement.”

 

[4v50 Gary]

One tough skirmish line of Green Mountain boys.

But the skirmishers would not come in; and when the firing died away, it appeared that the Vermonters thus deployed as a skirmish had repulsed a full line of battle attack. Twice afterward the enemy advanced to carry the position, and were each time again driven back by this perverse skirmish line. The Vermonters, it is true, were strongly posted in a wood, and each man fired from behind a tree. But then everybody knows that the etiquette in such matters is for a skirmish line to come in as soon as they are satisfied that the enemy means business. Those simple-minded patriots of the Green Mountains, however, adopted a rule of their own on this occasion; and the enemy, disgusted with such stupidity, retired across the Beaver Creek.

They used up to sixty to eighty rounds of ammuntion during each attack.