Southern Victory at Mitchellville!

In a last "hurrah" to the year 2010, I once again travelled down to good old Brazil, and faced off against my Yankee nemesis Bill Rosser.

In a confused, half-heartless fight between green troops in the Winter of '61, it was more of an exercise in "trying to get men to do what they are supposed to" rather than "winning the battle".

The scenario was a meeting engagment. Both sides were all green. As this was late 1861, there were no "average trained troops". The Union objective was to engage and defeat the Confederate troops encamped around the small town of Mitchellville, near Whittles Crossing on Whites Creek.

Confederate objectives were simple: Keep this from happening.

And now we travel back to those days of gunpowder and glory and join the story from the words of our beloved Southern General, Belvedere B. Belvedere...

----------

Winter 1861

We had all expected the war with the Yankees to be over with by the summer of this year; fall at the latest. And yet, here it was moving towards the new year and it still seemed to drag on. The ninety day troops were long gone, and those that were there, were learning to form the backbone of a real army.

Yet, in this time of peace and quiet in the winter, I had travelled on a well deserved furlough North of the Valley, and towards the small town of Mitchellville, at the invite of a gentleman and good friend of my family, Judge Augustus Peters.

My troops under the temporary command of my able aide Lt. Jasper had encamped for winter quarters within the defenses of Richmond, and were enjoying a peaceful respite from the hardships of war. Long overdue letters and some packages even had finally found their way to eager hands and eyes of those men who could read, or read for the ones that they were deemed for.

On my journey to Mitchellville, (a small crossroads town), I had the pleasure of inspecting the local garrison forces. They were almost all green troops. They were eager to prove themselves, yet their dependibility in battle was unproven, and questionable. Their commander was in bed in quarters with a severe case of the croup, and I later learned that he died within a week of the battle from the croup.

Two small regiments and two batteries of guns were encamped around Mitchellville. I forced myself not to compare these men to the fine soldiers in my regiment and instead turned my attentions for the while upon the social interactions with Judge Peters, and his family, and in particular his charming daughter Ellie...

Miss Ellie Peters, (b. Dec. 14th 1844, d: Feb. 19th 1870)

Miss Ellie, was most taken in and excited by stories of the battle of Manassas, and how we performed. She is a lovely creature indeed and her eyes often brighten with excitement. I think she yearns for adventure (as all younger folk do), and of travelling far away from her small "quiet town", and seeing the world. If only she knew that sometimes the world is not so accomodating.

I was gently nibbling on a slice of butter cake and sipping on real coffee in the family parlor; answering the legion of questions that Miss Ellie was plying upon me. (In my honest opinion, I do think that the good judge invited me here also to judge me as potential "marital quality" for his daughter, but we should discuss that at another time....);

But I do digress....

Our social intercourse was interrupted by the sounds of a distand popping. My alert ears picked this up as musket fire, while Miss Ellie cooed "Oh the boys must be drilling again!"

I forced a smile, but at the same time listend to the broken staccato sound of the muskets in the distance. This wasn't drilling. These muskets were shooting at targets!

My thoughts were interrupted by the loud pounding upon the door, and of The Good Judge, allowing a uniformed man in, (a captain).

"General Sir!" He saluted while exclaiming my rank. "Captain Hugh wishes to report to you that you are needed to take command of the local troops as we have seen Yankee infantry moving towards the town!" He was young, and his eyes full of the excited fear that untried officers wanting to prove themselves often show. I would have to watch this man and see how he handles troops in the field.

"How many?" I asked.

"Don't know sir." He said. "General Ledbetter is down in his quarters with a bad case of the croup. The doctor thinks he might die. He's given permission for you to take command of the troops in the field. We have more reinforcements coming up the road but we don't know when they will be here!"

I nodded and quickly gulped the last of the tasteful coffee.

"Very well." I nodded. "Have the commanders form their regiments and prepare the batteries for action. Quickly man!"
"Yes sir!" He saluted and ran out of the parlor and outside. Already I could hear the drums and bugles sounding "Call To Arms". The shouts of men and the sounds of an army preparing for battle began to be noticeable.

Ellie stood up. "Must you go now?" She said, bright eyes tearing, and bottom lip quivering.

"Yes, my dear. I must. Duty calls." I turned and looked at The Judge.
"Sir. I would advise you to please take your family down into the cellar and wait until this is over. If you do not, I cannot guarantee the safety of your family."

He nodded. "God go with you Belvedere."

I smiled at him, and headed out the door. Behind me I could hear Miss Ellies sobs and fits of protest over having to go "into the cellar", as I headed off into the battle...

General Belvedere B. Belvedere, Captain Hugh, and a Staff Officer at the Crossoads in Mitchellville.

Confederate Troops encamped around Mitchellville...


The campfires are cooking, bacon, and johnny cakes...black coffee, and the smell of woodsmoke in the chilly morning air...

Suddenly the pickets start shooting...Yankee Infantry coming down the road!

A column of Yankee's moving towards the town, trying to catch us off guard...sneaky devils they are...

Bugles ring out....the troops spring forth....the batteries swing around, gun crews prepare... These new green troops will "See The Elephant" today...

Suddenly a shout goes out....

More Yankee Infantry...a full brigades worth, coming straight at us! They mean business. This is no skirmish...it's a full scale attack!

Yankee infantry and artillery coming into view...we are outnumbered...can these raw troops hold them off, or will they break and run?

Suddenly from the far end of town, a cloud of dust and the sound of hooves....Our cavalry has arrived!!!

Gallant cavaliers in grey, riding hard towards the enemy...

They suddenly whirl off the road and between the woods to cover the right flank. Their commander knows that he is doing...the clattering sound of the horse artillery gun attached to them joins in as the limber bounces along down and off the rutted road and onto the field...


"Get the regiments formed! Line of battle!" I say to Captain Hugh. I can see him lick his lips and know he is unable to find words as a fountain of emotions run through him; anticipation, excitement, fear...He nods and rides off...

Captain Hugh forms the center regiments. These green troops would break and run during the first opening shots of the fight. The "fun" of war was suddenly replaced by cold fear...

A 12lb gun prepares to greet the oncoming Yankees...

The Yankee infantry had deployed in a full frontal attack upon our outumbered troops. We had no men on the flank to hold them. The cavalry commander dismounted half of his troopers and unlimbered the gun, while the other half rode hard to the flank, and in a moment of dash, drew sabers, and pistols and charged!

Hell for leather they charge across the open field towards the first regiment, (Rhode Islanders I do believe by their state colors)...

In a swirling mad dash of elan and flashing sabers, the Confederate cavalry slams into the Rhode Islanders. The infantry is able to get a decent volley from their musket dropping men and horse alike but not enough to break up the charge..for a moment the field is caught up in the maddening melee frenzy....behind the Rhode Islanders, the other two Union Regiments hold back, unsure of wanting to get involved in the bloody confused mess ahead of them...

Meanwhile the center line prepares...."Steady boys!" Captain Hugh says, but he can see the fear in the faces of them...as they watch the Union infantry move closer towards them....

Suddenly the Yankee artillery fires and a 12lb shell plows into the front of the regiment...a few men fall dead, more fall wounded...the explosion shakes and dissolved what little nerve and fighting mettle this unit was able to muster. They suddenly break and rout for the rear...

I have one regiment of infantry, a shattered cavalry unit, and 2 batteries of artillery to hold off over a brigade of yankee troops...

"Captain! Rally those men!" I cry to him...and I see him ride off in helpless pursuit...he attempts to rally but they will have nothing of it...off the field of battle they go....

And yet...at the same time...onto the field of battle comes two more regiments....Reinforcements!!!!

Help arrives in the form of 2 infantry regiments. Captain Hugh takes command of them and forms them up for battle. He is turning out to be an able commander...

The shattered remains of the cavalry head to the rear as the dismounted troopers prepare to make a stand against the Yankee infantry...

A nice large color photo of Bill's Union infantry...they look really good!

Meanwhile the 12lb batteries are exchanging artillery fire with the Union guns...shells are exploding all around, and both men and horses go down screaming. Guns take hits, and the battery suffers but they hold their ground and give just as good as they get...

A symphony of death and killing...12lb battery in action against Union guns, while the infantry desperately tries to form a line...



The infantry take over from the recently routed Cavalry dismounts...

The issue with green troops is that they are unpredictable...they move slowly...fire horribly and break at the earliest moment...and for both of us, this was the problem....My infantry moved horribly slow, and it was through the grace of my artillery that I was able to stop the enemy advance.

A side shot of the battlefield...The final grand charge of the Union infantry. A brigade in lines, Regulars, State troops, Zouaves, pushing towards us...determined as they can be...

"Pour it into them boys! Give 'em all you got!"

The final battle lines as both sides look for the killing blow to end this....

Heavy volleys are fired from both sides...the bullets buzz like angry hornets...Men drop by the scores...the roar of our batteries continues, but the Yankee guns are quiet...have we run them off?? We cannot see through the thickness of the smoke....

With the end of the combat, we roll morale....my boys hold....

Bill needs to roll a 7 or less....

The first roll...10...unit breaks....

The second roll...11...unit breaks...

The third and final roll.....He's hoping for a seven to keep the Zouaves on the field at least....the can then still push with the rest of his forces....

A Seven....

He needs a seven...

He shakes the dice....

.

.

.

Rolls and lets them fly....

.

.

.

.

And it reads....

Boxcars!!!!...Oh dear...

I look over at Bill..."Well look at it this way..." I tell him..."In Squad Leader, that is either a jammed gun or a thrown track..."

Bill sighs...smacks his lips, and says "Wellllllll....I think that this is about it for this fight...."

The entire Yankee line routs!

The Yankee General tries desperately to rally his men, but they are fleeing the field....With one regiment in reserve, he has no choice but to retire...The Affair at Mitchellville is over with....

With the sounding of the final heavy volley and the Union troops heading away, we can see the battle is over with...some of the men start cheering, but I yell to them, "Stop cheering boys. Those were brave men that died over there..."

With the fighting ending, and the excitment of it, fading. Now the men turned to the grim task of "after the battle"...shooting dying horses, and looking for fallen friends...

"Captain Hugh..." I said to the officer...
"Sir..." He croaked out.

"You performed very well out on the field. I am going to report to your Commander that you should be promoted and be given Brevet Command of these troops."

The young captain saluted in silence, yet his tired eyes showed him thinking if this "promotion" was to be a blessing or a curse?

Surveying the battlefield after the fight...

I turned my trusty steed Cornbread around, and rode towards the Judge Peters house...Whereupon I was greeted with the scene of smashed windows from bullets...a hole in the roof from an artillery shell, and the house being utilzed as a makeshift hospital for the wounded.

I walked through the house, gently stepping by the moaning, bleeding boys and found Ellie, tearing up one of her finer dresses to be used as bandages.

She looked up at me with sad eyes...

"I expected it to be glory and adventure...." She said to me with a soft sadness in her voice. "But this..." She motioned with her hand toward the wounded on the floor of her house, each one in their own personal hellish pain...

"This is madness..." She said...as the tears began to form in her eyes....

And mine...

Players Note: For those of you interested, Belvedere B. Belvedere briefly courted Ellie Peters during the war, but the courtship ended in the months after Gettysburg. They remained friends however and wrote often to each other during the war. Ellies family suffered, (like most in the Valley), from the constant hardships of the war, and in 1863 her family moved to Richmond. Judge Peters died of a stroke in 1866...

Ellie never married, and Belvedere attended her funeral as a pallbearer in 1870....

Game Notes: The RRTF rules are old, (and it's evident by the manner in which they are written.); but they are still enjoyable to play. Bill is a great opponent and I feel I will be facing off against him in many more games to come....

Green troops are a headache. We had planned on this to be a meeting engagement, but due to my lack of being able to move troops at a decent speed , it turned into more of a Union attack vs a hasty Confederate defense.

The cavalry charge while tactically unsound, we strategically important as it bought me the needed time to organize a defense on my right.

The killer to all of this is the poor morale of green troops...they WILL break at the most inopportune time...This makes them a challenge to lead, and to rally...

It does test your ability to command...

All in all....a great game, with a great friend and a good way to end the New Year!

Thanks to all that have read this blog for 2010 and I look forward to entertaining y'all with more in 2011...

Sincerely;

Michael T. Murphy

Indianapolis

Jan. 1st 2011

Gaming this weekend!

Howdy all!

Sorry for the delay in putting anything up, and boy does the time fly eh?

I'm facing up against my yankee nemesis Bill Rosser this weekend for another ACW battle. This time it's a Confederate Attack, so here is hoping that our great general Belvedere B. Belvedere will be victorious for the Southern cause once again!!!!

This weekends game will be at G2D4 here in Indy and starts on Saturday at 13:00...

The troops of Gen'l Belvedere B. Belvedere wait to move out towards the enemy...

The Battle of Tasselville

The Battle of Tasselville...

On a sunny afternoon, I once again found myself at my good friend (and Yankee nemesis), Bill Rosser’s house to face off with the forces of Old Abe once again.
Using our beloved “Rally Round The Flag” Rules, we were playing a variant of the Owl Creek-Tuckerville scenario that we had played earlier.

So after drinks and the usual pre-game chit-chat, we adjourned ourselves down to the game room table, and we traded the Summer of 2010 for early Fall in the year of our Lord 1862...
Gen’l Rosser, under pressure from Pres. Lincoln, had been ordered to take a division (+) (approx. 22 regiments of Infantry, plus 3 batteries of artillery), against my 9 infantry regiments, 1 cavalry regiment, 2 batteries of artillery and 1 battery of horse artillery.
I once again, like a true Southerner found myself outnumbered, out manned, and outgunned, but ready to “give ‘em hell” all the way across the field…as I took on the role of Gen’l Belvedere B. Belvedere, Commander of Southern Forces.

Tasselville is a small little hamlet-town in Northeastern Virginia. Originally settled by mostly Dutch and German immigrants, its original name was Van-Tasselville, but after the first 20-30 years and around 1800, the “van” was dropped. It sits on the South side of what is known as Dutchman’s Creek, a shallow but slippery sloped almost waist deep creek; A small bridge, (known appropriately as Dutchman’s Bridge), spans the creek. To the West of Tasselville is Otto Hill, and to the Far East is Rigners Hill.

(The battlefield looking from West to East; Union forces on the left, Confederates on the right. In the foreground is Otto Hill, with Capt. Butlers artillery, and the Texas, and Louisiana Troops in reserve.)

Rosser’s Orders were simple: Cross the creek, take the town, and push me off of the board.
My orders were just as simple: Keep him from taking the town and kill his men where they stand…

Although I was outnumbered, Bill was using a “unit activation” sequence (ala Per Burnside), to activate his units. At the beginning of each turn, he rolled dice for each brigade. When one die rolled a six, he would consult his table and then that brigade would be activated. Units also could cross the creek at ANY location, but had to stop and form column before they could cross.

It was the slowness of activation that would be his first major issue.

My men were dug in behind soft cover of field fortifications. I had Capt. Butler’s artillery on Otto Hill, and Presley’s Tupelo Mississippi Artillery on Rigners Hill. My infantry were stretched across from hill to hill with my left flank two deep in regiments. I once again had my valiant Texans with me, and they were determined to show these Yankees the business end of their pumpkin slingers…

(Confederate defenses along Otto Hill. Butler's Artillery along with Texas and Louisiana Troops in Reserve. Two forward regiments in cover, keep the enemy held up with musketry fire.)

The show started with activation of part of his right flank. Onward came the Zouaves, and his center, as they marched down the road. His artillery went into action, against mine, but a lucky hit from Presley’s 12lb rifled gun detonated a limber, which resulted in havoc within one battery.
To the left the Zouaves boldly moved towards us, rushing towards the creek in column, determined to get across and into our lines before we could react. Determined fire by the two forward regiments plus a good volley from Butler’s artillery, shattered the first wave…this was to be repeated over and over on this flank…quick movement forward only to be halted and then routed. To the right flank, my cavalry began a long slow leisurely ride down through Tasselville, and towards Otto Hill, taking some casualties from a few errant Yankee artillery shells that were fired into the town.

(Union Right Flank, The Zouaves would be the first in, and the first to be shattered. Eventually almost 95% of these units would flee the field due to losses.)

(A close up of Butler's Artillery Battery in action against the Zouaves and right flank. It was this battery that was the key to victory against the enemy right...)

Perhaps to my irritation, my horse artillery battery, (which had performed so well at Lumpkins Junction), showed no stomach for fighting this day. They broke on the first turn and it was only three turns later that I was barely BARELY able to rally them. One more turn and they were off the board.
The infantry though fought magnificently.
The center stride was being pushed by none other than that Yankee Blowhard, Gen’l Owen Sodbucket, (also known as “Old Seconds For Supper”). This time however, unlike Owl Creek, and Lumpkins Junction, his men actually moved forward to the creek…and then they stopped and dawdled…trading shots with my entrenched riflemen. Even with cover, my regiment of men from South Carolina was taking hits, and would soon break from the losses. They would rally one turn later.

("On to Richmond!" They cry as they march quickly down the road towards the bridge and their objective of Tasselville, unaware of the soon to be hellish fight they shall be in...)

(Moving the Brigade quickly down the road, as Union guns provide cover fire and the Brigade Commander watches their progress...)

Towards the center Ol’ Rosser was able to push men over the bridge and into an almost point blank exchange with another unit of South Carolinians.
While on the right, he pushed a unit of Rhode Islanders across the Creek and into the woods, followed up by a Pennsylvania Regiment.

(A rear view of the Rhode Islanders going across the creek into the woods and the Texans just beyond...)

(The 2nd Union Brigade, Pennsylvanians I believe; cross Dutchman's Creek to support the Rhode Islands just to their right in the woods, confident of victory...)

(...and unaware that hard fighting men from the Lone Star State stand ready with their .69 Caliber M1842 smoothbores, to teach them a deadly lesson...Texas will be heard from this day...)

("Myself" (aka. Gen'l Belvedere B. Belvedere) astride my trusty white steed, "Cornbread", watching the oncoming attack upon the Texans by the Rhode Islanders and Pennsylvanians. My staff officers direct Capt. Butlers 12lb rifled guns towards the enemy...)

(With the breaking of the Rhode Islanders, the Pennsylvanians grit their teeth and push forward to meet the Texans head on...the sound of minie-balls whizz through the air, buzzing like angry bees as men on both sides drop by the score. But with the artillery support from Butler's guns, the boys from the Keystone state cannot take much more and quickly fade back across the creek...With this, the battle is essentially over...)

Earlier on, I had noticed this weak spot in my line and had slowly moved my Texas Regiment to plug the gap. Behind them I had a regiment from Louisiana, just itching to get into it. (This unit never fired a shot or took a hit during the game).
The Rhode Islanders were pushing out of the woods when they exchanged a volley with the Texans, and then were treated to a 12lb shell fired from the rifle guns of Butler’s artillery. This was more than they could stand and they skeedaddled back across the river…
Now it was up to the Pennsylvanians…They pushed forward towards the Texans. Within 2 inches of each other, and exchanged devastating volleys. The Texans returned fire, as did Butler’s artillery once again, and their spirit broke.

The game ran for approximately 11 turns, and with the breaking of the last of his right flank, and the units that had crossed the creek sent splashing back across, Gen’l Rosser had finally realized the futility of this assault, and withdrew his men.

("Sir! The men have done all they can do for today! We've got to get off of this road sir, or you'll be killed!" Cries the aide to Gen'l Rosser as he tried valiantly to rally the last of his right flank, (seen fleeing behind him). The seriousness of the situation is realized when a bullet strikes his canteen...Reluctantly he rides off of the road onto the field and begins the withdrawal of his troops...)

Being a Southerner and a gentlemen I offered a truce to allow his medical orderlies to collect the wounded. It was a fearful bill. Looking at our casualty rates, I had lost approx. 1250 men, while Bill had sent a little over 4000 to their deaths…

Observations: RRTF is a very dated set of rules, but fits rather well in our games. It also, (for it’s age), seems to pretty accurately give the historically correct results for casualties, etc. It’s still perhaps one of my most favored rules-sets.

I have no foolish thought in my head that this will be the last time that I square off against Rosser. His men call him “The Snappin’ Turtle”, while mine call him “The Ol’ Buzzard”…He’s a good opponent and friend…(even if he is a Yankee!)

(All for the Union! One last hard charge as the Union Right Flank goes in three regiments in line to force the objective. A beautiful pic of some fine minis in line...)

Comments are appreciated.

The Battle of Crummettsville...then and now...

This past summer while driving through Pennsyvlania on my way to do an article on the "Amish Rake Fight Klub"; I had the chance to wander off the beaten path, (actually I got lost), and ended up at the small battlefield park of Crummettsville.
When compared to Gettysburg, the other spots in Pennsylvania have gotten a raw end of the tourism dollar deal, or maybe in the long run they haven't had people who seemed to solely exist on making a buck on US History. They don't call Gettysburg, "Greedysburg" for nothin' you know.
Even to this day Crummettsville is still kind of a small town. Sure it has grown over the last 150 years, (a gas station/Quicky Mart that sells horrible BBQ pork sandwiches now rests on the spot of the original warehouse during the battle; the warehouse having been burned down in 1903 by hobos sleeping in it at night); but in a way the town still seems to be kind of caught in a loop about what happened here on that fateful day in the summer of 1863...

The houses that are still standing, show evidence of their years. The Widow Spencer's House is now owned by the Crummettsville Historical Society, (subsidized by the Pennsylvania Amish Cheese Industry), and 86 year old Fannie Coggins will be happy to show you the house as it was during the battle, including the repaired but still visible battle damage to the outside, and the inside of the house, along with the old splintered china cabinet which was a prized heirloom of the Widows, and took a few bullets from Confederate troops firing at Union troops during the battle.
On the floor of the parlor one can still see the faded bloodstains of Pvt. Albert Humphreys of Co. B 85th NY Infantry, who fought from the parlor, shooting from the windows to the rebels outside> Sometime during the battle, 19 year old Albert took a .58 caliber minie ball to his throat and his comrades drug him across the floor to the parlor with the other wounded, where a corporal tried to do his best as the "unofficial doctor" but usually ended up, holding them as they died. Alberts last few moments on this earth were in the Widow Spencers parlor, gurgling from a hole in this throat the size of a half dollar as his blood poured out and stained the floor.

I walked around the house with Fannie (as I had been the only tourist there the entire week), and she seemed delighted to have a visitor...She took delight in telling me all about the fighting and how her very own grandfather was a young man and sat on his back porch with a loaded shotgun waiting for the rebs...
"Would you like to see the pussies?" She asked me.
"Excuse me?" I said, not sure that I had heard her correctly.
"The stuffed cats." She said.
"OH!...ummm...yes..." I replied, somewhat relieved at what could have been an embarassing incident...
Fannie took me to one of the side sitting rooms. It seems that the Widow Spencer was known for her love of cats and during the battle was said to have had 13 black cats. As each of her beloved kitties died, she took it and had it stuffed....so now I was standing here looking at 13 150+ year old stuffed dusty cat carcasses.
Egad...
"Amazing, isn't it?" Fannie said.
"Hmmmm...." I responded.
"Do you want to see her husband?" She asked me.
"What?!" I asked. "Did the Widow stuff him too!?!?"
Fannie stared at me like I had a wart on my nose or something...
She sighed..."So I supposed you'd like to see the battle pictures also..."
"Battle Pictures?" I asked her, my interested suddenly picqued.
"Yes..we had an amateur photographer, A Mr. Igor Brady, the 2nd Cousin to the great photographer Matthew Brady here at the town when the fight started and he was lucky enough to get some photos. Some aren't in good condition though...."

So what follows is a little narrative about a small but bloody battle..."the smaller Gettysburg" as the town folks like to call it. Sure it didn't last for three days, but plenty of men were killed and wounded on both sides and it was a day that no one would ever forget.



GM's NOTE: The game was packed with a great (and I mean GREAT GROUP of players), and Jerry at http://www.games2d4.com/ deserved a lot of praise and credit.

Of the 9 players there, 7 were TMP'ers!!!!! Creepy huh??..Tells ya a lot about that site...




A shot of the battlefield from the Union side. TMP'ers playing the Union side, wait for the Reb fest to begin...




A rarely seen picture of Crummettsville, (alson sometimes known as Crummetts-Towne on local maps), taken from a Union Observation Balloon, right before the battle. One can see the warehouse which was the Confederate objective in the foreground. A gas station is now on the site of the warehouse. The dark building with white trim at the road junction, was the Crummettsville Tavern, but is now the Blue Bird Cafe...Try the breakfast ham, deeeeeeee-licious!!!!




The first forces on the field of battle were 62nd and 65th Pennsylvania State Militia. Young boys and older men, green and untried in battle; they were entrenched on the northern side of Riley Creek. A colored artillery battery supports them.




The Union commander, Gen'l Rosser, (known throughout the South as "Ol' Buzzard Rosser" but known to his men as "The Snappin' Turtle" for his tendency to get into battle and hang on with everything he's got); rides with his staff on the outskirts of town right before the battle...


The Confederate Commander was Gen'l Jebediah Possum-Walker Jones. He was a hard driving commander and although his men sometimes balked at his disciplinarian ways, they knew he was hard and fair, and sometimes crazy...but he fought Yankees until he could fight them no more...
No known photos exist of Jebediah today, although there are rumors going about of a "end of the war Appomattox photo" taken right after the surrender of him in his uniform which will soon be put up for auction.
Jebediah Possum-Walker Jones survived the war, and moved 14 times in his life afterwards...throughout the south, and in various places in Texas and out west...fathering children and burying wives. He was last seen one Sunday morning in June of 1888, with his pistols by his side and a bible in his hand, walking his horse towards a canyon and whistling "Shall we gather at the river"...He had been married 11 times; burying 8, divorcing 1 and having the other two "run off"...
His last words known were said to have been to the preacher that morning..."I hear 'em...the bugles...callin' me to rally my men in the canyon....we'll get the artillery up there and put fire on them yankees like they never seen it! Gen'l Lee will be so proud of my boys!"
And then he turned and walked off...leading his horse and whistling.
He was never seen again...


US Colored Troops take position alongside a split rail fence... This was their first time against Confederate Troops and despite a valiant defense, they were quickly routed by CS Artillery and Cavalry fire.




Confederate Troops easily brush aside the scared green state militia and colored troops from their positions and storm over the defenses with ease...

While Union Cavalry ride hard through the town towards the Reb infantry, determined to stop them...

Meanwhile Union troops from the 2nd Brigade move quickly down the road into town and towards the developing battle...


While the 3rd Brigade comes onto the field in almost parade fashion...


Advancing Confederate troops fire a devastating volley upon the remnants of a routing State Militia Regiment that has been trapped while trying to cross the fencelines...Due to the amount of militia troops killed by CS infantry fire at this location, it has been renamed as "The Militia Fence". A stone marker placed by the GAR in 1907 lists the names of the men that were killed in this area.


Confederate Troops reach the fenceline...beyond it is Crummettsville and the Union forces waiting for them...



GM's Note: A color pic showing 2 of the 3 Union Brigades moving onto the field. 1st Brigade is nearest, while 3rd Brigade is furthest away in the photo. The figure with the Brigade flag is the infamous US Gen'l Owen Sodbucket, (also known as "Old Seconds For Supper"). Sodbucket's brigade has a infamous reputation of breaking in the face of the enemy once the shooting starts and Owen is usually the first one heading to the rear....
The Confederate attack was aggressive yet scattered and uncoordinated. CS 2nd and 3rd Brigades went in as evidenced by this picture, while the 1st Brigade made an unsupported attack upon the Union left flank held by none other than Gen'l Owen Sodbucket, the same commander who's forces had broken at Lumpkins Junction and dawdled at Tuckerville and Owl Creek.


Confederate 12 pounders of 2nd Brigade engage the Union 3rd Brigade troops around the house of the Widow Spencer. It's these very guns that sent shells crashing into her home and the battle scars can still be seen today...


Confederate artillery, although outnumbered was deadly as the 12 pounders caused a chain reaction of 3 limbers to explode, causing havoc and destruction within the center of the line. An entire battery of guns and men were wiped out by this...


But Union artillery was deadly also...here the main firing line of the Union Artillery, (including the 14lb James Rifles from the Artillery Reserve), wait for the Rebs to get within optimum range...


And on come the Rebs...determined but not enough as the Union guns pour fire into them ripping holes in their ranks, and leaving the field scattered with dead and wounded before they retreated...


On the right flank, Sodbuckets men rush forward to meet the enemy and after a volley or two would be rushing back to the rear....with Sodbucket in the lead of course....

An old historical photo of Union 3rd Brigade troops moving towards the house of Widow Spencer. This is the only known photo of the Widows home during the battle. Confederate Troops are on the other side and soon this house would feel the brunt of battle.

This photo was taken by Mr. Igor Brady, 2nd cousin to Matthew Brady the famous photographer. Igor wanted to be the same as his cousin, but instead ended up in the funeral business in Chicago, where he lived until his death of the croop in 1886.

Despite a hard effort by the Southern troops and command, the Union defense was just too great and they had effectively coordinated their artillery to cover the field. As the sun went down the Southern troops pulled back across Riley Creek, leaving Crummettsville still in the hands of the Union.

As I spent the afternoon walking the battlefield and visiting the small cemetery where some of the wounded from both sides are buried, (the confederates are in a mass grave), I thought about how this fight changed this small town forever. The younger folks don't seem to care too much for it, and the older folks tend to cling to "the local history" with a fierce passion. But when they are all gone...then what? Will Crummettsville become another tacky tourist town? (There's already one "Crummettsville Ghost Tour" that not only includes the battlefield by candlelight, but also The Widow Spencers house, (by special reservation only))...

Crummettsville seems forever locked in it's little piece of history, and I hope that it, like much of our countries treasured past, never goes away.

GMS NOTE: This game was almost impossible for the Rebs to win for a variety of reasons.

The first was the distance. due to the size of units on the field, I had to give them room to move and manuever thus it took longer for the rebs to get to where they were, and the Union set up their defenses quickly.

The Rebs also seems to push seperate uncoordinated attacks and seemed to have focused on the hill for a while instead of rushing towards the town at full speed. Union rifled artillery fire was very accurate and while there were no devastating hits like the hit on the Union limber, their fire was very powerful and telling, and caused attacks to break up.

We will be trying this scenario again with the JR III rules system...

It was fun game and I am thankful for so many MANY good people!!! Truly a pleasure in gaming is good friends!!!

The bitterest fighting seemed to come over by the Widow Spencers house. A close, almost desperate fight saw chances of the house catching fire...but luckily for us and 86 year old Fannie Coggins, it didn't, and can still be seen to this day...(The house is open for tours on Wed-Fri 10-12, 1-4, and Saturdays from 10-2; Admission is free but donations are accepted.)

Visitors can see and learn about the history of the house and see the scars and artifacts from the battle. They can also learn about the Widow Spencer, her husband, and her postwar years, (including her trial after being accused of conspiring to murder the town mayor Ebeneezer Crummett with arsenic laced powdered sugar almond cookies). She was found innocent and lived her life quietly and in solitude, (even though she was rumored to be heavily involved in the "spiritualist and seance occult movements of the late 1890's)...The date of her death has never been established as her body was never found. Instead all they ever found was a wonderful old empty house and 13 stuffed dusty cats....