Compassion on the Battlefield (Article 108)

An Act of Compassion  (Article 108)

Most Civil War battlefields, at least those that have been preserved, have monuments. Some depict a smaller collision of forces that was part of the larger battle, some commemorate an act of gallantry or heroism, and some honor the Generals that led on that fateful day. But there are a few special monuments which honor a single soldier whose courage can inspire us still.

One such monument is at the battlefield site at Fredericksburg, Virginia. It is a monument, not to extraordinary battle feats, or to men lost, but to a man whose courage was combined with compassion. As a result of his actions, Sergeant Richard Rowland Kirkland, at nineteen years of age, became known by both Union and Confederate soldiers as the Angel of Marye’s Heights.

Kirkland was from a family of farmers and hunters in Kershaw County, South Carolina. Some in his extended family may have owned slaves; but, while we do not know his thoughts on the matter, we do know that neither Richard or his father were slaveholders. He was, however, a loyal South Carolinian and supported the session of his state from the Union. He joined the Confederate Army in 1861, when he was seventeen, soon after the Civil War had begun. He must have adapted well to army life, as well as displayed leadership aptitude, because he quickly was promoted to Sergeant. His unit fought in the first significant battle of the Civil War on July 21, 1861 at the Battle of Bull Run (referred to as Manassas by the Confederates). It was a stunning victory for the Confederacy and an embarrassing loss for the Union Army, which was routed. (Some called it “The Great Skedaddle.”) Then in June 1862, while still in Virginia, he fought in the battle of Savages Station. There were many other engagements and the casualties in his unit began to mount, but Sergeant Kirkland avoided any serious injury.

Then, in December 1862, Kirkland found himself near Fredericksburg, Virginia. His unit was assigned to defend their position behind a large stone wall on a hill the locals called Marye’s Heights. On December 13th, the Union Army Generals ordered an assault on the heavily defended rock wall, and after the first failed and for the next six hours, ordered another thirteen charges. Some of the wounded from earlier charges pleaded with those in the next waves to turn back. But the lines of soldiers pushed forward under withering fire. After the fourteenth charge, no Union soldier had ever reached the stone wall, and the Northern Army had paid a dear price; over 8,000 men killed or wounded just in the fourteen charges at Marye’s Heights. (Another 5,000 died in other Fredericksburg battles.)  Most of those wounded managed to stumble back to Union lines; but many did not and lay on the field among the dead.

Unlike some Civil War battles, the generals on both sides at Fredericksburg had made no agreement to allow bearers to remove the dead and wounded from the battlefield at the end of the day’s fighting. While there were a few Confederate soldiers who fell in front of the stone works, almost all of the wounded, still on the field, were Union soldiers who could not get back to their own lines. Those men spent the night on the battlefield, many calling out for help, screaming in pain, or simply begging for water. 

Neither side mounted an attack the next morning and the soldiers from both sides could still hear the anguished cries from the wounded men. With no negotiated cease-fire, any attempt to cross into the no-man’s-land seemed impossible and suicidal. Sergeant Kirkland could finally no longer bear to hear the sounds. He approached General Joseph Kershaw and asked if he could try to reach and comfort the enemy soldiers. At first, the General refused. He said later that his main reason was that Kirkland proposed carrying a white flag, but the General believed the Union officers would misinterpret the reason and take the flag as a sign his men were surrendering or were asking for terms of surrender. At some point, Sergeant Kirkland asked if he could go out without a white flag. The General said, “Kirkland, don’t you know that you will get a bullet through your head the moment you stepped over the wall?” Kirkland replied, “Yes sir. I know that. But if you will let me, I am willing to try. I’ll take my chances.”

Kirkland picked up all of the canteens he could carry, filled them with water, stood up, and climbed over the stone wall. Miraculously no one fired from the Union lines. If they had, the Southerners would have returned fire and Kirkland would have been exposed to the deadly cross-fire. The Union soldiers had quickly figured out that the Confederate soldier was helping, not harming, their downed Northern comrades. He went about his humanitarian task quietly, but efficiently. He would offer the wounded a drink of water, provide a few comforting words, help them get into a more comfortable position, and many times, prayed with them. Then he went back for more canteens and on the second trip, took some blankets. For over an hour, Richard Kirkland served the needs of those soldiers. 

The Union Generals finally decided that the Marye’s Heights wall could not be breeched; and the two sides agreed to allow their wounded to be removed from the battlefield later that afternoon. When the two forces withdrew, the Battle of Fredericksburg was clearly another embarrassing defeat for the Union Army, despite having superior forces (120,000 to 80,000).

But many, on both sides, had witnessed the Confederate soldier caring for the Union’s fallen and wrote of their recollections. General Kershaw wrote not only to his family about Sergeant Kirkland’s exploits, but included comments in his battle report. The story soon reached newspapers and the accounts of his courage was read in both North and South.

(Kirkland’s Memorial at Fredericksburg)

But the War was not yet over for Sergeant Kirkland.

After the Battle of Fredericksburg, he continued to fight with his unit. In April, 1863, he was at the Battle of Chancellorsville (in Virginia) which was another Confederate victory and then followed his fellow Southern soldiers to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in late June. Although Gettysburg was considered a Union Victory, the Northern Generals failed to chase the retreating Confederates, led by Robert E. Lee, as they moved south. Sergeant Kirkland would live to fight another day and, based on his leadership and courageous actions, was promoted to Lieutenant. Then in early September, Kirkland was still with Lee’s army, but now in Georgia, near the Tennessee line, where they prepared to meet the Union Army at Chickamauga. The battle began on September 18.  On September 20, 1863, Lt. Kirkland and two of his men were in an advanced position ahead of the Confederate lines, when they came under intense Union fire. Kirkland ordered his men back to their lines but, before he could get there, he was hit and mortally wounded. He told his men to leave him and uttered his last words. “I'm done for boys. Save yourselves and please tell my Pa I died right."

As with many stories of the Civil War, some modern writers choose to call Sergeant Kirkland’s exploits exaggerated.  But these words by General Kershaw indicate otherwise. “Unharmed he reached the nearest sufferer. He knelt beside him, tenderly raised the drooping head, rested it gently upon his own noble breast, and poured the precious life-giving fluid down the fever scorched throat. This done, he laid him tenderly down, placed his knapsack under his head, straightened out his broken limb, spread his overcoat over him, replaced his empty canteen with a full one, and turned to another sufferer.”

For over an hour, in no man’s land, in a war between Americans, Richard Rowland Kirkland nobly demonstrated bravery, humanity, and compassion in the midst of utter chaos.