Thomas Ackerson Interesting War Experiences
Narrow Escape #31
Ironton Register – June 16, 1887
Submitted by Peggy A. Wells
Thomas Ackerson was a 5th West Va. Infantry member and belonged to Capt. Rowe’s company. The Register reporter hunted him up the other day for a narrow escape, and sure enough, Thomas had one quite different from any that we have before related. And yet what a variety we have described!
“From saber stroke, bursting shell, whistling musket ball, captor’s clutches, terrible starvation, and every form of danger, we have told the escapes of “our boys.” There seems to be no end to the variety. Some are thrilling, some are blood-curdling, and some are humorous, even if deeply tinged with danger.
Of the latter sort was Mr. Ackerson’s, and though he told it to me with a laugh, we thought we could detect a slight tremor in his voice when he came to the critical point.
“It was on the 24th of July, 1864. That was an eventful day for many soldiers from the county. That day, the 91st, the 5th Va., and the 2nd Va. Cav. were on the red line. It has already furnished this column with several thrilling incidents. Crook had come up from Winchester with his Army of West Va. and met Early coming down with a big army. Crook resisted but gave way after many hot fights. It was in one of these that Mr. Ackerson’s episode happened.
Photo at left of General George Crook Photo from Kernstown Battlefield
“The long line of the rebs swooped down on our little army at Kernstown, and not far from the big brick house, we made a stand. But it was not much of a stand, for the rebs relentlessly swept our lines away with their superior members. But along the lines, many a startling incident happened. By some little misfortune, our company of sixteen got apart from the regiment, and Capt. Rowe started to fight on his hook by ordering us to charge Early’s whole corps.
“We did, says Mr. Ackerson, in a moderate way, but we didn’t get far, for we struck the reb infantry in massed lines that poured volley upon volley on our receding ranks. We couldn’t stand it. Of course, we couldn’t. Fighting Early’s whole corps with sixteen men was too big a job, so we departed quietly but quickly and exceedingly anxious about the balls that whistled around our heads.
“Now, while we were getting out of there as rapidly as possible, ” says Mr. Ackerson, was when I ran against a circumstance that I never will forget. Across the pathway of escape was a heavy hedge fence, and I thought to myself; now, to a man trying to get away from Early’s whole corps, banging Minnie balls at him, what is a hedge fence? Why, simply nothing, thought I, and straight through it,
“I aimed my course thinking that when I got to the other side of it, I would be screened from the enemy’s view. So, when I got to it leaped over its green, thorny branches. In times of peace, it would have been a task to be long debated before a fellow would run through a hedge fence. But when war is pounding at your back, a hedge fence is nothing, so I thought.
“But I hastily changed my opinion. I got into the middle of that hedge fence, and it seemed to me every thorn in the patch grabbed hold of me. Several of them snatched my haversack; several got my coat sleeve; some seized the stripe of my cartridge box, and in a moment, I saw I couldn’t budge an inch either way, and here came the rebels in solid phalanx firing as they came. I could see their gray lines coming for me. I worked and tussled and pulled to get from the clutch of that hedge, but I had never struck such an obstinate thing in my life. The rebs came nearer and nearer, and I struggled harder and harder.
“I began to think it was time to say my prayers. I thought farewell to home. I could see the old Hecla furnace vanishing in the dim eternal past. My life seemed to flicker and flutter. On came the rebs nearer. The thorny hedge seemed to tighten its grasp. I could almost see the white of the reb eyes. I took a tremendous plunge I made but bounced back on the piercing thorns.
“The rebs were within thirty yards. Another plunge–and out of the hedge I went, and away I flew to the rear. Across the field, our boys were behind a stone fence. To that, I broke like a streak of lightning, the balls whizzing all about me. Would I ever get to the stone fence?
“I thought. Well, I did, and when I reached it, the boys grabbed me by the head and shoulders and pulled me over, and I was safe. Even today, when I see a hedge fence, it scares me, and I’d walk ten miles around one before I’d go through it. Now, you have my story–you can put in the literary part; the facts are just as I tell you.”
“All right,” said the Reporter, “the literary part shall be attended to, but I thank you very much for telling me about your interesting experience. Good day.”
“Good day, sir.”
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