Wednesday, October 30, 2019

Letter from David K. Bunnell, Civil War Soldier - January 1862

Letter from David K. Bunnell -23rd NY Infantry
Chenango Telegraph, Norwich, NY, January 1, 1862

Upton Hill, Va, Dec. 1, 1862
Dear Brother,
I now take the opportunity to inform you that I have been taken prisoner three times, and escaped at last.

On the 22d of last month the N. Y. twenty-third Regiment were stationed on advance picket guard.  About 10 o'clock on the evening of that day, we were driven back to the reserve by a body of rebel cavalry.  Near midnight the colonel sent me with two other soldiers to see if the cavalry of the enemy were yet in the neighborhood.  It rained quite hard at the time, and, as shelter was not to be obtained, we got very wet and cold. After remaining out nearly three hours, we returned to the regiment, and reported the fruits of our reconnaissance to the commanding officer.  At daylight we were remanded back to our posts again, and as the rain still fell, we started a fire for our own individual comfort; but it was soon cleared away, and the afternoon was warm and pleasant.  The next day evening, being still on the advance lines, I thought to get a little sleep before the time arrived to relieve my fellow picket, and laying down in my bough tent, slept soundly for four or five hours.  The cold rain had again set in when I awoke and went forth on duty.

I had been but a short time at my post, which by the way, was in a fence corner, near where two of the N.Y Fourteenth's pickets had been shot, when the clouds broke away, and the moon shone out in the effulgence of its romantic glory.  Everything seemed quiet, and I was keeping a sharp lookout in front, when the sound of advancing footsteps in the rear suddenly attracted my attention in that direction.  At first I supposed they proceeded from some of our own cavalry, but the illusion was soon dispelled by the stern order to "surrender or die!"  There was three to one, and, of course, there was no resort left me but to give myself up a prisoner, which I reluctantly did, and was marched off to the rebel camp.  The following morning, after having divested me of my gun and overcoat, three of the "chivalry" escorted me to Manassas Junction, where I was heavily ironed and thrown into a log prison.  During this entire period, although I had been compelled to march 19 miles with my hands tied behind me, I had not been offered one mouthful of any thing to eat, until my incarnation, when a few hard crackers with a limited supply of rain water were placed at my disposal.

The log prison was far from comfortable, I assure you; my bed was the ground, and my covering what little the chivalrous F.F.V's left on my back after my capture.  On the evening of the third day of my imprisonment in this pestilential dungeon, myself, with 13 other prisoners, were handled into an old freight car, and started off for Richmond.  I was not acquainted with one of my fellow passengers, and, as we were not allowed to communicate with each other, I was likely to remain in ignorance of their names or even positions in the Federal army when captured.  but here we were; fourteen destitute human beings crowded into a dilapidated cattle car; truly, not a very enviable position.

We had passed the second station on the road, when our keeper, who, I think, had imbibed pretty freely of poor whiskey, was discovered to be soundly asleep on the floor.  Then it was that the idea of escape flashed upon my brain.  Carefully creeping to where the prostrate man lay, I earnestly scrutinized him for a few moments. After satisfying myself of his unconsciousness, I proceeded to lighten his belt of a couple of revolvers.  Being successful in this main movement, I next carefully extracted the keys to our shackles from his pockets, and the bloated braggart lay a helpless prisoner at our feet.  We took from him everything of any value, and then very quietly dropped him overboard.  Soon freeing ourselves of the disgusting shackles,  I gave the requisite pull to the bell-rope, and the train soon slackened its speed sufficient to make it safe disembarking; when the last man had reached terra firma, I again gave the signal, made a leap from the cars, and away they dashed on their journey to the Confederate capital.

Not being at all posted as regarded our whereabouts, after a brief consultation it was agreed that each man should take up his own line of march, and get back to the Potomac as best he might.  I presented one of my captured revolvers to a needy companion, and we parted company, each to seek his own destiny.

It was plain that my first object should be to exchange my Federal uniform for one more appropriate to the latitude in which I now found myself.  I had travelled scarcely two miles, when I came upon a farm house, and, to my delight, saw a pair of pants hanging on the line near by.  These necessary articles, together with an old coat found in the woodshed, I borrowed for a while, and upon reaching a swamp, proceeded to hide my own toggery and robe myself in the countryman's garments.  My disguise thus completed, I resumed my journey with a light heart.

At daylight, seeing another farm house a short distance in advance, I concluded to stop for some breakfast.  Having procured a good meal, I mournfully informed mine host that I was without money and in quest of work, and that if he could furnish me with employment I should feel very thankful indeed.  His reply was that he had a considerable quantity of corn to husk and potatoes to dig, and concluded by offering me $5 for a month's labor, provided that I could wait till he disposed of his corn for my pay.  It is needless to inform you that I readily accepted his terms, and was duly installed as one of the family, for a short time at least. The question naturally referred itself to the farmer's mind, why did I not enlist in the Southern army.  To this not unexpected inquiry I had a ready answer; I was formerly the proprietor of a large farm near Fall's Chruch, had been driven away by the cursed Yankees, and was compelled to seek refuge somewhere; my eyes were very weak, or I would, ere this, have shouldered a musket and reeked vengeance on the miserable abolitionists.  This excuse seemed satisfactory to the old Secesh.  He then informed me that he had two brave sons in the army, and that they were then stationed at Manassas Junction; they had visited home a short time since, and during their stay gave the old man a lengthy account of their experience on and subsequent to their retreat from Upton's  Hill, closing with an exultation over the rebel mode of shooting Union pickets.  I listened earnestly to the recital of the bold deeds of his chivalrous sons, and could have added a sequel to the proud narrative, but thought the time and place hardly befitting.

This old Virginia farmer had also two very pretty daughters, who notwithstanding their sex and beauty, were violent secessionists, and boasted long and loud of what they would do if they were men.  They would fight, scratch, bite, bleed and all, but that they would conquer the north--although girls, I seen became quite a favorite wish  with these young ladies, and as they felt disposed to let me into the family secrets, I thought to turn the opportunity to some account.  Among other souvenirs thus brought to my sight, was a box containing a quantity of gold, which, they informed me, was captured by their brothers on the Bull's Run battle field after the fight--undoubtedly taken from the pockets of some of our slain officers--also an antiquated specimen of a silver watch, whose massive proportions reminded me of a moderate sized town clock.  I carefully noted the locality of these cherished keepsakes.

Chenango Telegraph, January 8, 1862
David K. Bunnell Letter - Continued



The third day's labor was completed, and I came to the conclusion that a longer stay was neither profitable nor prudent.  The room assiged to me was on the first floor, and easily escaped from without arousing the inmates of the house.  About midnight I noiselessly arose, not having undressed at all, cautiously advanced to where the gold box was deposited, emptied it of its contents, took the silver watch from its hiding place, slipped out the window, and traveled to the eastward at double quick.  While thus plodding along, the thought occurred to me that it were best to again change my apparel.  A secesh uniform was what I needed--what I must have.  Thus revolving in my mind the necessity and pressure of the cause, I hurried forward with renewed energy.  As though Providence really favored my plans and wishes, I found myself near a rebel picket line, one of whom was just then busily engaged in starting a fire.  He had carelessly left his musket leaning against a neighboring tree, and it was but the work of a moment for me to place myself between the gun and its owner.  With my revolver pointed at his breast, I demanded the astonished soldier to immediately disrobe himself, which order he tremblingly obeyed.  I  took possession of his coat and pants, gave him my own in return, broke his musket, and, with a friendly caution to the picket to keep closed lips while I remained in sight, or they woudl be sealed forever, I again made tracks for a more congenial atmosphere.

At daylight, I again espied a farm house, and again the thoughts of a warm breakfast had the attraction to draw me to its door.  You can well imagine my feelings upon entering the house, when, besides the family, a squad of rebel cavalrymen presented themselves to view.  However, it was no time to study upon consequences, so, placing full reliance on my Confederate uniform, I walked boldly in and asked for some breakfast. The meal was furnished me without any questioning, after which in the absnece of money, I proposed to make compensation by trading my watch with the landlord. A bargain was soon consumated, and for the sum of one dollar with my indeptedness, I parted company with the confiscated time piece.  Now the interrogatories as to my regiment and destination were to be answered. As to the name of my regiment, I had previously taken the precaution to study an answer; the figures "23" that adorned my Union cap had been transferred to the rebel's head dress, and as a matter of course, I was a member of 23d Georgia Regiment, Col. Anderson commanding, and my great solicitude now was to reach the camp ... all right; "go ahead," said a cavalry officer, and I went without further orders from that quarter.  

By the aid of a secesh pass, which, although written by myself, answered every purpose, as undoubtedly but a few of them could even read plain print.  I crossed the advance picket line and made double haste for the Federal army.  With a light heart, I was skipping through a piece of ... about four miles from our lines, when suddenly I was confronted by the identical three cavalrymen who first took me prisoner.  Luckily they did not recognize me, but I was not to pass them.  I was ordred to halt, and make what my special presence was in that localty.  I answered that I was on a scouting exedition; but the excuse was useless.  I was charged with being a deserter, and after having my person thoroughly searched, my hands were again secured behind me.

Although no sufficient reason for conviction was found upon me--my money, except the gold dollar I got in the watch trade, and revolver being concealed in my boots--two of the party proposed to "shoot the d----d deserter!"  But the third who, by the way, was a Captain, intimated that I might be innocent of the charge and that they better march me to camp.  Accordingly back to Manassas  I went and again the log prion was opened for my keep.

The hated shackles were not added as before.  I was this time a Secesh instead of a Union prisoner.  I was the only occupant of the room and as the guard at the door seemed quite communicative, I at once entered into conversation with him.  while thus engaged; who should pass the door, but one of the very daughters of whom I have heretofore spoken.  She had left for Manassas the day before my abrupt departure from her father's roof, but my thoughts being otherwise engaged, the fact of her departure had escaped my memory.  [unreadable] [his story to the daughter was this] While busily at work on her father's farm I was waited upon by three military men and compelled to put on the uniform and follow them; that as they heeded not my truthful plea of inefficiency, I made an unsuccessful attempt to evade them, and as a punishment, for my obstinacy was thrown into this prison.  This mournful narrative touched her sympathetic heart, and she vowed I should not remain there. She sought out the officer of the guard, and plainly informed him that I was her cousin, a strictly loyal man, and, withal, entirely incapacitated for military duty; but it would not do, I must remain for trail the next day.  At this refusal she was exceedingly indignant and promised to return home immediately and send her father to my rescue.

Here was a dilemma.  If that old Confederate rascal once found out that I was here, my year, aye, days on this terrestrial sphere, were at an end.  It was a desperate moment, and desperate means must be resorted to.  Once more approaching the voluble guard, who, through the maiden's  interposition, had come to sympathize with my unjust detention, I asked him if he could procure me a drink of liquor.  He could easily do so, had he the money.  I furnished him with the required amount, and told him to bring two quarts--enough for himself and me.  In a short time he returned with a two-quart pail full of the genuine "red-eye"  that would kill ninety rods without rest.  Unfastening the door, that the pail might be more easily passed to and fro, we began to imbibe quite freely at least on my companion's part.   In the mean time I kept up a constant conversation with my friend, telling him that I would buy us both a warm breakfast in the morning, and that the magic pail should be plentifully replenished.  It was not till about 9 o'clock in the evening that I had the man in a position, as I thought, for successful operation.  He had set down upon the ground, and was evidently in a state of beastly intoxication.  With great precaution I approached, possessed myself of his revolver, and leaving a brief history of my real character and adventures--which I had penciled off while the guard was drinking--in the room, I took a farewell leave of the familiar old prison.

Notwithstanding the strong guard about Manassas I succeeded in passing them all, and at daylight was within three and a half miles of the Union lines.  Hopefully, I sprang forward when--horror of horrors, who should confront me but the same three cavalry men who had twice taken me prisoner.  They recognized me in a moment, and one of the number deliberately fired at me, the ball striking one of my coat buttons, but providentially doing me no bodily harm.  I threw up both hands, a signal that I was unarmed, and was instantly surrounded. This time they would surely fasten me, and I was ordered to march on before them.  But my stern resolve was not be to taken this time alive. Death was certainly my fate if I returned, and I preferred to meet my fate then and there.  Making an excuse that I wished to roll up my pants before resuming the journey, I stooped down and drew forth the two loaded revolvers from my boots.  In less time than I can relate it, two saddles were empty and before the occupant of the third had time to draw and cock his revolver he too had bit the dust.  One of the number was only wounded, and succeeded in sending two balls in uncomfortable proximity to my person, when, with a well directed aim, I effectually silenced his battery.

The report of a gun caused me to look around, and there, about sixty rods distant, was a company of rebel cavalry coming at full gallop,  Quick as thought I mounted one of the riderless horses, and started him for the woods at his utmost speed.

As I entered the desired covert, the cold lead rattled around me like hail, but without any damaging effect.  Through the underbrush I went at railroad speed; but when near the middle of the copse my horse unfortunately stumbled over a log and broke his leg.  I immediately abandoned the poor brute to his fate, and plunged through the brush on foot.  Gaining the opposite side, I cleared an open field in an unprecedented space of time, and stood once more safe within our lines.

But my adventures were not yet ended.  I was now arrested by my own companions in arms as a rebel soldier.  I was not long, however, in convincing them of my loyalty, and after partaking of a hearty mean, of which you must know, I stood in much need, I was duly reinstated in my former position in the grand Federal army of the Potomac.

What became of the prisoners liberated from the cars I have not learned.  We exchanged addresses, and if any succeeded in making good their escape, I shall undoubtedly soon be apprised of the fact.

The life of a soldier, dear brother, is sometimes quite pleasant, but my last week's experience will satisfy you that it is not always so agreeable.  It was my intention to have escaped without taking life if possible; but as self-preservation is the first law of nature, I feel justified in the course I pursued.

With love to all, I remain, Yours Truly
D.K. Bunnell
_______________________________________________________

From the New York Adjutant General Report:  23rd NY Infantry
BUNNELL, DAVID K.:  Age, 31 years. Enlisted, May 6, 1861, at Elmira, to serve two years; mustered in as private, Co. K. May 16, 1861; mustered out with company, may 22, 1863, at Elmira, N.Y.

David K. Bunnell died 28 September, 1897 at Elmira, NY




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