by Frank Alexander Montgomery
Special thanks to: Sue B. Moore for finding this book and to the
University of North Carolina - Chapel Hill Libraries for the use of
the material for research purposes.
© This work is the property
of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It may be used
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Call number 973.78 M78r 1901 (Davis Library, UNC-CH)
REMINISCENCES OF A MISSISSIPPIAN
IN PEACE AND WAR:
Electronic Edition.
Frank Alexander Montgomery, b. 1830
FRANK A. MONTGOMERY
Lieutenant-Colonel First Mississippi
Cavalry, Armstrong's
Mississippi Brigade; Member of Legislature,
1880, 1882, 1884, 1896,
and one term Judge of Fourth Circuit
Court District of Miss.
CINCINNATI
THE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY
PRESS
1901
Page verso
COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY
FRANK A.
MONTGOMERY
Press of The Robert Clarke Co.
Cincinnati, O.,
U.S.A.
Dedication
To my surviving comrades of
Armstrong's Old Mississippi Cavalry Brigade
and to the memory of
its gallant dead
I dedicate this book.
Page vii
PREFACE.
Most people who read books look first at the
Preface to see what the author has to say about himself or about his
book, and often this contains an excuse for writing it. I have no
excuse to offer for what I have written, and since the book itself
is an autobiography will here say nothing about myself; but I think
it proper to give some of the reasons which have induced me at this
late day to become an author.
It has been my fortune to
have lived for seventy years in my native state, Mississippi, and
until within the last few months to have led an active life from
boyhood to my present age, never without some occupation which was
congenial to me. But time which has brought me age has also brought
me leisure, and I have availed myself of it to write my
recollections of so much of the war between the states in which my
own immediate cavalry command took part. In the following pages,
however, I have not confined myself to this, but have allowed my
memory to carry me back to the days when I was a young man, and to
speak of Mississippi life as it then was. So also I have dwelt upon
the reconstruction era in the state and brought my memoirs down to
the present time, with, however, only a passing reference to the
civil offices I have held.
Page viii
So far as
the war is concerned I have felt it almost a duty, it certainly has
been a pleasure, to recall the incidents of that stirring time and
to rescue from oblivion, as far as I can, the names and deeds of
some Mississippi soldiers, and commands, to whom history in the
state has done but scant justice.
If I have succeeded in
this, if I have contributed, in ever so slight a degree, to the
history of the state or of the war, I will be amply repaid for the
work I have done.
FRANK A. MONTGOMERY.
Page ix
CHAPTER I.
Introduction--Birth place--Old Natchez
trace--Lost villages of seventy years ago--Territory of
Mississippi--Ancestors--Country school--Oakland College--Its
president--His lecture one day--Political speech of Dr. Duncan, of
Ohio--Whig party--Excitement in Mississippi in 1851--Senators
Jefferson Davis and Henry Foote--Speeches by them--Tragic death of
Dr. Chamberlain--Fate of Oakland College. . . . .
CHAPTER II.
Mexican war--Jefferson troop--General Thomas Hinds--Natchez
fencibles, Captain Clay--Vicksburg--Mustering officer, General
Duffield--Company rejected--Trip to Jackson--Governor Brown--General
McMackin--Alleghany College, Meadville,
Pennsylvania--Concert--Escaped slave--Copper cents--Skating, sleigh
riding--Militia muster--Home again--Cotton planter of those
days--The negro as he then was--As he is now. . . . . 12
CHAPTER III.
Railroads--Shinplasters--Customs of the
times--Barbecues--Camp meetings--Militia drills--Shooting
matches--Music of the times--The preacher and the
robber--Indians--S. S. Prentiss--Dueling. . . . . 22
CHAPTER IV.
Marriage--Move to Bolivar county--Old town of Napoleon--The
hunter--Money--State banks--Overflows and levees--Battle of
Armageddon--John Brown's raid--Effect on the south--Election of Mr.
Lincoln . . . . . 29 Page x
CHAPTER V.
Excitement--Elections before the war--Formation of
companies--Bolivar troop--Secession of the state--Mississippi a
nation--Army and custom houses--General Charles Clark--Anecdote . .
. . . 37 CHAPTER VI.
Trip to New Orleans--Company in camp--An
old soldier's popularity and final fate--Take company to
Memphis--Roster of company--General Pillow--General William T.
Martin--Anecdote--Whether negro or white man--Life depended on the
question--Ordered to Union City . . . . . 44
CHAPTER VII.
General Frank Cheatham--First Mississippi Cavalry Battalion, Major
Miller--General Cheatham's staff--Battle of Manassas, war
over--Occupation of New Madrid--Brigadier General M. Jeff. Thompson,
Missouri State Guard--His army--Evacuate New Madrid--Return next
day--Scout to Charleston--Lose a man, captured--Great excitement at
home over this--Hickman, Kentucky--Gunboats--Captain Marsh Miller
and the Grampus--Columbus, battalion increased. . . . . 53 CHAPTER
VIII.
Gunboats and Grampus--Ordered with squadron to
Belmont--Colonel Tappan in command--Watson's Battery--Old college
mate--Dashing poker player of old times, one of the
Watsons--Scouting--First fight--Federal sergeant killed--Leave of
absence, battle of Belmont--Winter quarters--State troops under
General Alcorn--New orderly sergeant--Old acquaintance from
California--Runaway negroes--Detailed on recruiting service--Battle
of Shiloh--Battalion increased to regiment--Colonel Lindsay in
command--His habits--army falls back to Tupelo. . . . . 63 CHAPTER
IX.
Reorganization of regiment--Report to General
Villipigue--Ordered to Senatobia--Jeff. Thompson again--His Indian
army--Mrs. M. Galloway, of Memphis--Ordered to Bolivar Page xi
county--Captain Herrin Reports to me--Fights with General Hovey in
Coahoma county--Congressman Hal. Chambers--His duel with Mr.
Lake--Fight at Driscoll's gin--Rejoin regiment. . . . . 74
CHAPTER X.
Brigaded with Colonel W. H. Jackson, Tennessee
cavalry--Brigadier-General Frank C. Armstrong--Raid into
Tennessee--Fight near Bolivar--Death of Lieutenant-Colonel Hogg, of
Federal cavalry, his gallant charge--Attack Medon, repulsed--Battle
of Denmark or Brittain's Lane--Severe loss--Captain Beall's
presentiment and death--Gallant charge of Colonel Wirt Adams--His
unfortunate fate after the war--Back in Mississippi--Move towards
Corinth--Rout Federal cavalry at Hatchie river--Colonel Pinson
wounded--General Van Dorn's advance on Corinth--Battle of
Corinth--Raid around Corinth--Narrow escape--Van Dorn's retreat--In
the rear--Back to Ripley. . . . . 84
CHAPTER XI.
Army at Holly
Springs--General Pemberton--Fight with Grierson in Coldwater
Bottom--two nameless heroes--Old Lamar, enemy advances--Evacuation
of Holly Springs--Report to General Pemberton at Jackson--General
Gregg of Texas--Trouble with General Jackson--Correspondence with
General Pemberton and secretary of war--Grenada, court
martial--Charges preferred by General Jackson--Acquitted and ordered
back to the regiment--President Davis reviews army at Grenada. . . .
. 96
CHAPTER XII.
Columbia, Tennessee--General Forrest--Van
Dorn--Sick leave--Faithful servant Jake Jones--Cross delta in dug
out--Methodist preacher and his wife--Lost for day and
night--Home--"Featherbeds"--Anecdotes--Fight of "Featherbeds" at my
place--Houses all burned by Federals--Privations of the
people--Return to army--Incidentals of trip--Rejoin regiment at
Mechanicsburg. . . . . 111 CHAPTER XIII.
General
Cosby--Skirmishing--Letter to wife--Son of General Thomas
Hinds--Letter to wife 4th of July, 1863--General Page xii
Joseph
E. Johnston, move to relieve Vicksburg--Brigade ordered forward to
the attack--Surrender of Pemberton--Fall back on
Jackson--Confederacy cut asunder--How General Dick Taylor crossed
river--Effect of fall of Vicksburg--Pemberton blamed
severely--Loyalty doubted--siege of Jackson--Evacuation of
Jackson--Judge Sharkey--"Camp near Brandon"--Letters to my
wife--Captain Herrin's dash at Federals--Captain Herrin captures
foraging party--Lightning kills man in camp--scout into Jefferson
county, General Clark--"Count Wallace". . . . . 122
CHAPTER XIV.
Camp near Lexington--Colonel Ross' Texas regiment--Camp near
Richland--General Reuben Davis, candidate for
governor--Anecdote--New issue and old issue, Confederate
money--Assault on sutler's tent--Letter to my wife--Presentation of
flag--Ross' Texas and First Mississippi regiments move to Tennessee
valley--General Sherman advancing through valley to
Chattanooga--Fights in the valley--Adjutant Beasly killed--Ordered
back to Mississippi--General Stephen D. Lee in command--Night march
after Federals, skirmish--Battle at Wolfe river near Moscow--Severe
loss in regiment and by Federals. . . . . 135
CHAPTER XV.
Opening of the year 1864--Gloomy prospects--General Sherman's march
through Mississippi--Skirmish on Joe Davis' place--Sharp Skirmish at
Clinton--Jackson, driven through place--Enter Meridian--Ordered to
reinforce Forrest--Forrest victorious, and ordered back to follow
Sherman--Fight near Sharon--Scout toward Canton, capture foraging
party with wagons--Another fight on road from Sharon, with loss--In
camp near Benton--Colonel George Moorman--Colonel Pinson goes home
and marries--Ordered to Georgia--General Frank C. Armstrong in
command of brigade--Letter from him. . . . . 148
CHAPTER XVI.
March to Georgia--Campaign in Georgia--Join General Johnston at
Adairsville, engaged at once--Letter to my wife from
Cartersville--Constant fighting--General Johnston's battle order,
Page xiii
enthusiasm of troops--Cross the Etowah, brigade in
rear--Fight at creek--Soldier's dream--Battle of Dallas, assault
Federal intrenchments--Repulsed with severe loss in regiment and
brigade--Letter to my wife describing the battle. . . . . 160
CHAPTER XVII.
Lost Mountain, constant fighting--General Polk
killed, regret at his death--Armstrong's scout to the rear, destroys
railroad and captures prisoners--Returns to army and orders me to
remain twenty-four hours in his rear--Escape without
loss--Mississippi lady refugee refuses forage--Compelled to take
it--Back to camp--Cross Chattahooche river, and ordered to intercept
cavalry raid near Newman--General Johnston relieved, and General
Hood in command--Regret, almost despair, in the army--General Dick
Taylor's account of trouble between Mr. Davis and General
Johnston--Brigade ordered to Atlanta, regiment ordered to
battle-ground of 22d of July. . . . . 175 CHAPTER XVIII.
Want of
confidence in General Hood--His opinion of the infantry of his
army--His opinion of his cavalry--Fearful sights on battle-ground of
22d July--Skirmishes in cornfield--Ordered back to left of army,
rejoin Armstrong--Enemy advances on Lick Skillet road--Ordered with
part of regiment to extreme left--Attack on my command--Driven
back--Advance of General Lee's corps--Battle of 28th of July--Severe
loss--Federal raids to our rear--Fight with Killpatrick--Back to
left of army--General Sherman's move to our left--Constant fighting,
fall back to Jonesboro--Occupy trenches, first assault of enemy
repulsed--Loss of Jonesboro and evacuation of Atlanta. . . . . 188
CHAPTER XIX.
Some reflections on loss of Atlanta--President
Davis visits camp--Ordered by General Jackson to take command
disabled horses and men--Ordered to reinforce General Tyler at West
Point--Orders and letter from General Jackson--Ordered to
Mississippi with my command--Incidents of the march--Sick in
hospital and leave of absence--At home again--Met a gold bug on the
road . . . . . 201 Page xiv
CHAPTER XX.
Rejoin army at
Tupelo--Disastrous condition as seen by General Taylor--Brigade
furloughed two weeks--A young recruit to Bolivar troop from New
York, but native of Alabama, Henry Elliot--Reorganization of cavalry
at Columbus--Appointed on examining board--Legislature in
session--Speeches by prominent men--General Forrest--General
Taylor's opinion of him--Military execution--Ordered towards Selma .
. . . . 220
CHAPTER XXI.
Last letter to my wife, very
gloomy--Cross Warrior river, move to Marion--New York recruit sees
his aunt--Thrown in Wilson's front--Night march, fall back on
Selma--Enemy attack Selma--How General Taylor escaped--Description
of battle--Regiment nearly all killed, wounded or captured--Brave
Federal sergeant saves my life--Took my pistol and hat, but didn't
want Confederate money--Sorrowful night--Federal band plays "Dixie,"
insult to injury. . . . . 233
CHAPTER XXII.
Walk over
battle-field under guard--Dead and wounded--Henry Elliott, tribute
to him--Adjutant Johnson mortally wounded--Put in stockade--Kind
treatment by Federal of officers and men--March to Columbus,
Georgia--Lieutenant-Colonel White, of Indiana--Conversation with
him--Colonel Pinson and myself paroled at Columbus--Make our way
back to Mississippi--The war over--Death of Mr. Lincoln, sorrow at
the South--Meridian, Ragsdale House, cost of coffee at meals--Trip
home and incidents--Home again, negroes free--Doubts as to
future--Determined to stand by the state to the end . . . . . 247
CHAPTER XXIII.
Changed condition--President Johnson's plan of
reconstruction--Negroes, old Uncle Hector--Negro problem always
serious--General Alcorn's opinion of right policy--Reconstruction
under act of congress--Negroes voting--Convention, carpet baggers
and scallawags--Our new clerk, Florey--Negroes on juries . . . . .
262 Page xv
CHAPTER XXIV.
Civil government under
carpet-baggers--Visit to Jackson--Legislature of 1870--Governor
Alcorn tempted by seat in senate--Judges, jury trial, and negroes as
jurors--General Starke sheriff of Bolivar--B. K. Bruce--His manners
and conservatism--Campaign of 1873--Alcorn and the
chancellor--Correspondence with Governor Alcorn--Campaign of
1875--Rout of carpet-baggers by tax-payers . . . . . 274
CHAPTER
XXV.
Campaign of 1876--John R. Lynch--Twenty negro laws, his
anecdote--Elected to legislature--Commissioner to Washington City in
1882 and 1884 in interest of levees--Captain Eads--Congressman Jones
from Kentucky--Funeral of Mr. Davis in New Orleans--Elected to
legislature from Coahoma county--Appointed circuit judge--Moral
influence of the bar--Golden wedding tributes--Conclusion--The Star
of Mississippi . . . . . 291
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Lieut.-Col.
Frank A. Montgomery (age 70), . . . . . Frontispiece Lieut.-Col
Frank A. Montgomery (age 31), facing p. 44 Col. R. A. Pinson, facing
p.75 Frank C. Armstrong, facing p. 157
Page 1
CHAPTER
I.
Introduction--Birth place--Old Natchez trace--Lost villages of
seventy years ago--Territory of Mississippi--Ancestors--Country
school--Oakland College--Its president--His lecture one
day--Political speech of Dr. Duncan, of Ohio--Whig party--Excitement
in Mississippi in 1851--Senators Jefferson Davis and Henry S.
Foote--Speeches by them--Tragic death of Dr. Chamberlain--Fate of
Oakland College.
For some years past I have purposed if
I lived to the age of seventy to write the story of my life. That
time has now come, and I have the leisure for the first time in my
life since I have been grown, for, though active and vigorous still
and capable of work congenial to me, I have nothing to do except to
amuse myself with my pen.
I have lived through the
greatest part of the most eventful century in the world's history,
and while I have filled no great place in the history which I, in
common with all other men living during this time, have helped to
make, yet my story may not prove uninteresting to those who read it,
and it will at least serve while I am writing it to recall the past,
the friends I have known, the pleasures of my youth, the stirring
events of my manhood, till age has now come to warn me that my time
is short, and that what I do I must do quickly.
Though
not a great man in the events I record, yet
Page 2
what I
did and what I saw I can tell, and there are those still living who
will be glad to read what I write; and it may even be that it will
be of some value to some great historian of my state and of the war
who is yet to come. For true history is gathered from small details
by comparatively obscure men who write of their times, as well as by
men who filled larger places in the eye of the world. In writing
this story of my own life I must of necessity have something to say
of the men I have known who filled far more important places than I
did, and who now with few exceptions have "passed over the river."
When I have occasion to speak of them, while I do so freely, I will
I hope do so kindly.
But one great purpose I have in
writing, is to give as far as I can the details of the operations of
the cavalry command to which I was attached during the great war
between the states, for these are never given in the reports of the
great commanders or in the histories which are compiled from them,
except when some great exploit by a Forest, or Wheeler, or Stuart,
is mentioned. The busy and constant service of the cavalry, its
innumerable fights, and constant loss of life, is rarely if ever
mentioned.
It is to supply to some extent this omission
as to my immediate cavalry command, as well as for other reasons,
that I write this story. I am not, I think, either a vain man or a
boastful one, and I regret that I must of necessity use the personal
pronoun "I" many times in what I write, but my purpose is to tell a
continuous story, and I cannot otherwise do it, at least not so
well; so I hope I may be pardoned by my readers. It is not so much
what I did that I want to tell as it is what the brave men with whom
I served did.
It is a source of deep regret to me that I
have not every name and that I will not even be able to give the
Page 3
names of all who died in the various affairs of which I
will tell, for it is these men whose names I would gladly make live
as far as I can. The great men who commanded our armies with few
exceptions deserve the honors they won, but it is the unknown and
forgotten who won their honors for them.
Some of the
great commanders on each side have told their stories, and these are
of more or less value in making up the history of the war, but few,
if any who held subordinate places have recorded their observations
or their experiences as soldiers either of the Federal or
Confederate armies, and this is to be regretted, for there were men
in the ranks who could if they would have told interesting stories,
and even yet there are many who can do it if they will, and I hope
others may yet do it. But whatever is done must be done soon, for a
few more years and there will be none left to tell, for especially
what Mississippi and Mississippians did in that great war, and thus
aid the historian who is to come in writing the history of the war
and of the state.
Our brave foes have been more
fortunate than we have been, for there is probably not a name of any
man who served in their ranks or who died for their cause whose name
has not been preserved, and their dead lie in well-cared-for
cemeteries guarded with jealous care, that future generations may
see how brave men died for the Union and how a grateful people have
honored their memories.
We of the south, whose dead
nearly all lie on the battlefields where they fell, grudge not these
honors to the gallant dead, who while they lived were our foes; we
only ask that history may truly tell our side of that time "when
Greek met Greek." This will be done, though the time may not have
fully come.
But now to my own story.
Page 4
I was born January 7, 1830, in Adams county, Mississippi,
within about a mile of a place called Selsertown, and which, though
there is now no town, still I believe retains the name. The place is
twelve miles from Natchez, and a tavern was kept there for a long
time, perhaps still is, though the railroad which now runs near it
from Jackson to Natchez has nearly destroyed the usefulness of the
celebrated highway upon which it was situated except for local
purposes. This was the road cut in the earliest history of the
territory of Mississippi from Nashville, Tennessee, to Natchez,
along which General Jackson rode when he sought and found his bride
at the home of his friend, Colonel Thomas M. Green, on the banks of
Coles creek, and along which he marched his victorious troops when
returning after the battle of New Orleans. It was then the great
thoroughfare for all travel north from Natchez, and most of that
south to Natchez, for few cared to risk the dangers of river travel
in those days. At intervals of about six miles along this road, in
the early settlement of the territory, little villages had been
located as I remember, between Natchez and Port Gibson, first
Washington, once the capital of the state, then Selsertown,
Uniontown, Greenville, Raccoon Box, and one other, the name of which
I have forgotten, Red Lick, I believe, and then Port Gibson. All of
these villages are gone save only their names, and these forgotten
except by a few old men like myself, and except that Washington
still remains, a small village preserved perhaps by the college
located there. The history of this part of the state always
possessed and still does, a romantic interest for me, because
perhaps, when a boy I knew many of those who had either been among
its earliest settlers, or were their descendants then grown, and who
loved to talk of their trials, of the Indians, of the Spaniards who
owned the
Page 5
country when it first began to be settled
by American pioneers, and of highway robbers who sometimes waylaid
the solitary traveler. Some of the stories I may tell as I recall
them. The story of the ill-fated tribe of the Natchez, of the French
occupation, then of the English, then of the Spanish, and last, its
cession to the United States, all combine to make the history of
this part of Mississippi of absorbing interest, and growing up at
the time and place I did, it is little wonder that it still
possesses a charm for me, and that I love to dwell even now upon it.
From the south boundary line of what is now Claiborne
county, to Natchez, I know every hill and spring and stream, for
twenty-five years of my life, the days of my youth, were spent
midway between Natchez and Port Gibson, and memory often takes me
back to those scenes of my youth. But if I dwell too long on these
things I will never tell my story.
While still an infant
my father moved into Jefferson county, and soon after died. He was
James Jefferson Montgomery, son of Alexander Montgomery, one of the
pioneer settlers of the territory, of whom Claiborne in his history
of Mississippi, makes honorable mention as one of the leading
citizens of the territory and of the state till his death, a few
years after its admission into the Union. My mother was the youngest
daughter of Colonel Cato West, also a pioneer, who became secretary
of the territory under Governor Claiborne, and for some time the
acting governor when Claiborne went to New Orleans as governor of
the newly-acquired territory of Louisiana.
Colonel West
was an intimate acquaintance and friend of General Jackson, and I
have now in my possession a long autograph letter written to him by
General Jackson in the year 1801, devoted to personal matters and
politics, and directed to "Colonel Cato West, Coles Creek,
Mississippi Territory." After my father's death, my
Page 6
mother went to live on our place on Coles creek, about two miles
from Uniontown, which was at the time still a little village, and
not far from the Maryland settlement, so called because some of the
earliest settlers were from Maryland. The old highway spoken of ran
through our place. Here after some years my mother married a Mr.
Malloy, a Presbyterian minister, but she died while still a young
woman, and the plantation and negroes then fell to me. In my early
boyhood, and while she lived, I spent much of my time with my uncle
Charles West, near Fayette, in Jefferson county, and went to school
to a Mr. Roland, a Welshman, who certainly did not spare the rod, or
rather the ferule, which was his favorite instrument of torture.
That was the rule in those days; all teachers whipped their
scholars, and indeed parents all approved it. We live now in a
better day, for the best teachers rarely, if ever, resort to
corporal punishment, which only tends to degrade a child and harden
him.
After a few years with Mr. Roland, who was an
educated man, becoming afterwards an Episcopal minister, I was sent
to Oakland College, when about twelve years old, and remained about
five years and till after the death of my mother. Oakland College
deserves more than a passing notice, both because of the tragedy in
the year 1851, when its venerable president was slain at his own
door in open day by a neighbor, and because of its singular destiny
in after years, at least its undreamed of destiny, by those who
founded and supported it. Oakland College as I first knew it, and
before the war between the states (I have not seen the place since),
had an ideal situation for a college. In the southwestern part of
Claiborne county not far from the line, the nearest town was Rodney,
five miles away in Jefferson county. The cottages in which the
students roomed formed a semi-circle on the crest of the ridge, with
the main college
Page 7
near the center, and close to this
the president's house. In front was a campus covered with oak trees,
and sloping down to the common boarding-house, and at each end of
the semi-circle the halls of the literary societies, the
Belleslettre and the Adelphic. I belonged to the first. The college
was founded mainly by Mr. David Hunt, of Jefferson county, supposed
to be the wealthiest planter of his time, and the Rev. Dr. Jeremiah
Chamberlain, who was its president. Dr. Chamberlain was an eminent
divine of the Presbyterian Church, and was a most lovable character.
Genial and whole-souled, the boys and young men all loved as well as
respected him. He had also quite a vein of humor in his nature, and
this would crop out at unexpected times. I remember once when he was
hearing a class in rhetoric or logic, in his lecture to the class he
repeated the following lines, which I at least have never seen in
print, but which though it is more than fifty years ago I have never
forgotten:
"Could we with ink the
ocean fill,
Were earth of parchment
made,
Were every single stick a quill,
Each man a scribe by trade,
To write the tricks of half the sex
Would drink that ocean dry.
Gallants, beware, look sharp, take care,
The blind eat many a fly."
I
don't remember what else was in that lecture, but that caught me and
has staid. It was well known that the doctor was an ardent Whig of
the Henry Clay and Daniel Webster school, and the boys sometimes
took advantage of it to tease him if they could. I recollect in the
campaign when Mr. Polk was the candidate of the Democrats, I came
across a speech made by a Dr. Duncan, of Ohio, which was a red-hot
Democratic speech, and as my time to declaim before the president
and
Page 8
students was near at hand, I committed some of
the most eloquent parts to memory to speak, counting in advance on
the good doctor's indulgence. I was urged, too, by many boys who
said I was afraid to do it.
It seems that in some parade
of the Whigs in some Northern state they had a banner with this
inscription: "We stoop to conquer." This excited the ire of some
poetical Democrat who wrote a piece with which Dr. Duncan closed his
speech. Two verses I remember yet:
"
'We stoop to conquer!' who are 'We'
That
from our mountain height descending
With
golden bribe and treacherous smile,
With
the sons of freemen blending,
Sow the
seeds of vile corruption?
Poor
nurselings of the Federal 'style,'
Fed
on the husks of aristocracy--
'We' quail
in fear beneath the eye
Of nature's true
and tried Democracy."
The last verse I gave with all my
power, turning to the doctor and pointing at him. When I got
through, he asked me where I had got the speech, and when I had told
him, only said as I had spoken better than usual, he had not stopped
me. In fact, though a boy, I was myself a Whig, and I did not loose
my faith and hope in that most glorious of all political parties
this country has ever seen, till the election which gave us Mr.
Lincoln and bloody war.
Dr. Chamberlain was not only a
Whig, he was an uncompromising unionist, and to something growing
out of this he owed his death.
At the time, the summer
of 1851, during the vacation, I was married and living on my
plantation some twenty miles from the college.
The
compromise measures as they were called, under which I believe
California was admitted to the Union,
Page 9
had excited a
great deal of feeling in the South, higher in Mississippi and South
Carolina than in any other states. The two senators from
Mississippi, the somewhat erratic, but brilliant, Henry S. Foote,
supported the compromise, while Mr. Jefferson Davis had opposed it
in congress. A convention of the people had been called, and feeling
ran high. During the canvass I heard both those distinguished men,
and candor compels me to say I thought Mr. Foote the superior of Mr.
Davis on the stump. I remember one thing Mr. Davis said which was
applauded both by those who supported him and those who did not. It
was thought by many that South Carolina would secede then, and Mr.
Davis said, if that state did secede and the Federal government
attempted to coerce her, he for one would shoulder his musket and go
to her aid. The sentiment was loudly applauded, for none in this
country at that time denied the right of a state to secede and set
up a government of its own if its people desired, with or without
reason.
Among the members of Dr. Chamberlain's church a
wealthy gentleman living near the college, named Batcheldor, was as
ardent a secessionist as the doctor was a union man. It was reported
to this gentleman by a Mr. Briscoe, himself a secessionist, that Dr.
Chamberlain had said that no man could be a secessionist and a
Christian. They had met by accident in the town of Rodney, and with
other gentlemen were discussing the all-absorbing topic of the day,
when Mr. Briscoe made this statement, not as I remember as a fact,
but as something he had heard. Without a thought Mr. Batcheldor said
to him, "You may tell the doctor I am a secessionist."
Mr. Briscoe was a member of a prominent family living near
the college, and had to pass through the
Page 10
college
grounds on his way home. He was seen to stop at Dr. Chamberlain's
gate and get off his horse, and the doctor walked from his porch to
his gate, only a few feet away. No one heard what passed, but the
doctor was seen to open the gate and pass through, and then turn and
walk back to his house and, in the presence of his horrified wife
and daughters, saying "I am killed," fell dead. He had been stabbed
to the heart, a heart whose every impulse in his long and useful
life had been for the good of his fellow-men.
The news
spread like wild fire, the prominence of the doctor and his
blameless life, the prominence of the family of the unfortunate who
in a moment of madness without conceivable motive had slain him, all
combined to excite the people to madness. Hundreds hastened to the
college and dire threats of vengeance were made, but Mr. Briscoe
could not be found. After striking the fatal blow he had mounted his
horse and gone in the direction of his home, and for some five or
six days this was all that was known of him. Then he was found by a
negro in a pasture not far from the house of a relative, a Mr.
Harrison, in a dying condition from poison. He was taken to the
house unconscious and soon died. After the war between the states,
Oakland College was sold to the state and became Alcorn University,
a college for negroes, and is now the Alcorn Agricultural and
Mechanical College, devoted to the education of that race. Who of
its founders or those who supported it, or the proud young men who
filled its halls, could ever have dreamed of a fate so strange, and
to me so sad, for this college, once the pride of South Mississippi!
And yet this change in Oakland College is a small thing compared to
that upheaval and destruction of southern homes and southern society
caused by that bloody war for the preservation of that Union which
Doctor Chamberlain
Page 11
and thousands of others in his
day loved so well, even in Mississippi, which a few years later was
to be one of the first of the states of the South to break or try to
break the bonds which bound it to the Union.
The names
of Dr. Chamberlain and Mr. Hunt have been perpetuated in the name of
the Chamberlain-Hunt Academy at Port Gibson, and long may they live,
though few perhaps know of the tragic fate of Dr. Chamberlain or the
unostentatious life of the ante bellum millionaire, Mr. Hunt.
I remained at Oakland College till I had gone through the
junior class, and then the Mexican war having broke out, though
under age, having no one to restrain me, I left the college to
become a soldier. In this hope I was disappointed, as the result of
my efforts will show.
Page 12
CHAPTER II.
Mexican
war--Jefferson troop--General Thomas Hinds--Natchez fencibles,
Captain Clay--Vicksburg--Mustering officer, General
Duffield--Company rejected--Trip to Jackson--Governor Brown--General
McMackin--Alleghany College, Meadville,
Pennsylvania--Concert--Escaped slave--Copper cents--Skating, sleigh
riding--Militia muster--Home again--Cotton planter of those
days--The negro as he then was--As he is now.
My first
effort to be a soldier was to join a cavalry company, gotten up by
Charles Clark, then a lawyer living in Fayette, Jefferson county.
This was a great man, and in another place, when I shall have
occasion to mention him, I will pay a tribute of love and admiration
to his character and services to his state. Our company was to be
called the Jefferson Troop, after the celebrated company commanded
by General Thomas Hinds in the battle of New Orleans, of whom
General Jackson, speaking of its charge upon the British lilies,
said: "It was the wonder of one army and the admiration of the
other." I knew General Hinds in my boyhood days, and remember him as
a fine old gentleman of the olden time. For him the county of Hinds
was named, and thus his name will live as long as the state does.
After some weeks of drilling, it being found no cavalry was wanted
from Mississippi, we disbanded, and I went to Natchez and joined a
company commanded by a Captain Clay, and called, I believe, the
Natchez Fencibles. Captain Clay took, as he supposed, a full company
to Vicksburg to be mustered into service. Certainly, as I remember,
it was a fine company, but there was politics in those days as well
as
Page 13
now, for it was charged openly it was due to the
desire of the state administration to keep a place open for a
company from some other part of the state, which was always true to
the Democratic party of the time, that Captain Clay's company was
not mustered in, it being from a staunch Whig county. Anyway we got
to Vicksburg and were assigned quarters in the old depot building,
where, after remaining a few days, we were brought out by General
Duffield, to be, as we supposed, mustered into service.
I recollect him well as dressed in a gorgeous uniform, with
a cocked hat and waving plume, a long saber by his side, he strutted
along our line. Since that time I have seen "Captain Jinks, of the
Horse Marines," on the stage, and I at once thought of General
Duffield, and when I think of one now the other comes before me. As
he came to me he stopped and asked how old I was, and when I told
him he ordered me out of the ranks. There was another young fellow
of my age in the ranks whose name was Fauntleroy, and heal so was
ordered out; and having thus reduced the company below the minimum,
he promptly rejected it. We were all indignant, as were many
prominent citizens, and it was decided to go to Jackson and lay our
case before Governor Brown. We succeeded in getting an engine and
some box cars, and got to Jackson late in the afternoon, but the
governor was reported sick and could not be seen. He had not gone on
a distant fishing excursion, as I have known one governor to do, in
order to avoid an unpleasant interview. We did not get to see him,
but we had a high time. Any number of speeches were made, and it was
openly charged that he was keeping a place for a favored company for
political purposes. There was great excitement and danger of
personal difficulties, but happily these were avoided.
Page 14
After a while we were taken to supper at a hotel
kept by General McMackin, whom I then saw for the first time. I took
him to be some intoxicated man as he went around crying out his bill
of fare: "The ham and the lamb and the jelly and jam and blackberry
pie, like mama used to make." The reason he gave for this habit was
that when he first opened a hotel in Jackson, so many members of the
legislature could not read, he had to do it in order to let them
know what his bill of fare was. Long after this when the
carpet-baggers, who had swooped down on the state "like a wolf on
the fold," had got full control, I was at a hotel kept by the
General in Vicksburg, the old Prentiss House, and to my surprise I
found bills of fare on the table. He had just commenced this usual
mode of letting his guests know what there was to eat, but he was
still from the force of habit walking up and down the dining-room
calling his bill. As he passed near me, I called to him and he came
at once, for no host was ever more polite and attentive to his
guests. I said to him: "General, I am sorry to see those bills of
fare on your table." "Why, why?" he said. "Because," I replied, "it
would seem to intimate that you thought the state had become more
intelligent under this carpet-bag rule than it was in the good old
days before the war."
In a voice that could be heard all
over the dining-room, he cried: "I'll burn 'em every one up; I'll
burn 'em every one up!" and I believe he did, for I never saw them
on his table afterwards.
We got back to Vicksburg the
same night (tired out I slept all the way back on a pile of
muskets), without having seen the governor, or got any satisfaction
as to whether our company would be received. We staid in Vicksburg a
few days, and the company gradually broke up, some of the men
joining other companies, and
Page 15
some going home. For
myself, I was disgusted and went home, for I would not join a
company where I did not know either the men or officers.
My guardian advised me to return to college for at least
another year, and this I was willing to do, but I was unwilling to
go back to Oakland College, as I preferred to go north. I did not
care what place so it was in the north. To this he consented, and at
his request I concluded to go to Alleghany College in Meadville,
Pennsylvania. He knew nothing of the college, except a young man
from the north who had taught school for him and who had kept up a
correspondence with him was then a student at it. Meadville was
ninety miles west of Pittsburg, and the trip from my home in those
days was a long and tedious one. I embarked at Rodney on a steamboat
named the Ringgold, after Major Ringgold who had been recently
killed in the battle of Palo Alto or Resaca, I forget which, and
after a long trip got to Louisville, there took another boat to
Cincinnati, and then another to Pittsburg, where I took the stage to
Meadville, arriving at that place after an all day and all night
ride, a little before day. My first care after breakfast was to look
up my guardian's friend, whose name was Mills. I found him at the
college and was at once made at home with him. He was some years
older than I was, but he was a fine fellow, and we became and
remained great friends, though he played me a little trick that
night. Except Mills, there was not a human being in the town I knew,
and he I had only seen that morning for the first time. Meadville
had at the time about twenty-five hundred inhabitants, and had its
very exclusive set in society as I afterwards found out. There was a
concert to be given at the hotel at which I was staying that night.
A young man was to sing, and I proposed to Mills to come and take
supper with me and
Page 16
go with me, and he agreed, but
said he knew some young ladies and proposed we should take them, to
which of course I made no objection.
He introduced me to
his friends, two sisters, who I saw at once were two very
respectable girls, as indeed they were, but I could see were not
much accustomed to society. However, I did not know anything about
the people we were to meet at the concert, so I did not much care.
Neither of the girls was pretty, and both were much
older than I was, but Mills took the youngest and prettiest one and
left me the other. It was a long walk to the hotel and I was very
much bored by my company, but I took care not to show it. I could
see at once from the company assembled that the elite of the town
were there, and that our girls were out of place, and I felt sorry
for them and somewhat ashamed for myself. I don't think Mills had
ever been to an entertainment before, and I never knew him to be
afterwards where ladies were to be present. How it was he ever
became acquainted with these girls I don't know. Their father owned
an apple cider mill and a distillery, as I found later. I did not
desert my charge, but paid her marked attention, till I had got her
safely back home, but after one formal call for politeness, I never
saw her again, though I remained in Meadville a year.
When I became acquainted as I did with most of the young
ladies who had been at the concert, I was often teased about my
first appearance in society. The singer's name was Sloan, and he
sang well, and for the first time I heard Napoleon's grave, a fine
old song.
I was a young man fresh from a southern state
and had never been north before, but I was treated with extreme
kindness, and before I left had many warm friends. There was a great
deal of curiosity about the south and
Page 17
about slaves,
and I was surprised at the ignorance of those whom it seemed to me
ought to have been better informed, but there was little travel
between that section of the country and mine. Indeed, I don't
remember to have seen but two men from the south, and one of those
was a relative of my own who came on and joined me after a few
months, and the other a young student from Maryland, which was
called a southern state because it was a slave state. There were not
very many avowed Abolitionists in town, but they were very bitter.
The general feeling then was that slavery was a matter for the south
to deal with, but if a runaway negro happened to come through the
town, he was helped along by everybody, and sometimes one did come
escaping from Maryland or Virginia. One came while I was there and
advertised to give a lecture. To everybody's surprise, I did not go,
for two reasons: one that I had no desire to see the negro, and the
other because I was pretty sure the wild young fellows would raise a
row, as actually happened. I was told by some who went that he was a
very ignorant negro. There were very few of that race in town, some
barbers and one old fellow who said he was an escaped slave from
Maryland a good many years before, were all that I knew anything
about. The latter soon took a liking to me and waited on my room,
though every now and then he would get a little tipsy and tell me I
couldn't whip him like I could in Mississippi. Sometimes I would
pretend to be angry and start towards him when he run, and once fell
downstairs being a little fuller than usual, and I had to go down
and help him up. I reckon the old fellow liked me chiefly because I
was free with my dimes and quarters, and did not put him off with
copper cents. These copper cents were the old fashioned kind, as big
as a half
Page 18
dollar, and at first when offered me in
change I would not take them; but I soon found that would not do, as
they were a very useful coin in that country and are no doubt to
this day; and it will be a good thing for the south when they come
into general use here. Everything seemed to me to be cheap in that
country; my board with a room to myself, fires, lights and washing
furnished, was only two dollars a week. After the battle of Buena
Vista, where the Mississippi regiment saved the day, Mississippians
were at a premium, and being the only one in town, I shared in the
glory without having been in danger, as I would have been had
Captain Clay's company been received.
At Alleghany
College, in Meadville, I found that the vacation was in the winter
for three months, commencing the first of December, so I was not
there long before the vacation commenced. One reason for this was,
as I was informed, that the young men might teach school in the
country schools at a time when the children could be spared from the
work of the farm to go to school. I was in my room one day when a
farmer came in and introduced himself as the trustee of a school a
few miles away, and desired to engage me to teach it. I have always
regretted I did not take the school. This left me nothing to do but
to frolic, and I soon had friends enough among the young people to
keep me busy at this entertaining, if not profitable, business.
French creek (I believe that is the name) ran through the town, and
when it froze over I got me a pair of skates--I paid two dollars and
a half for them-- and went down to join a crowd and learn this
exhilarating amusement, but after several severe falls I concluded
it would not pay a Mississippi boy to learn, and I gave my skates
away. I got along much better with sleigh riding though my first
ride was disastrous, for the horse ran away with the cutter and
threw my friend, a
Page 19
young man named Fleury, and
myself out and broke the cutter, for which I had to pay.
What with sleigh rides and dances every week, and sometimes
twice a week, besides other amusements, time did not drag slowly,
but soon brought the opening of the college, and I devoted myself to
it till I concluded to quit and go home.
The arsenal for
North-western Pennsylvania was located at Meadville, and while I was
there a muster of the militia was had, and all the students
attended, of course. There were hundreds of country people, and the
natural result followed, a number of fights between the students and
those people, in which no greater damage was done than black eyes or
bloody noses. I carried the signs of the battle for some days
myself.
Next door to my boarding house lived a Dr.
Yates, whose wife was a sister of James Buchanan, then the secretary
of the navy, I believe, and afterwards president of the United
States. The doctor had a very pretty daughter, who married a young
man, a friend of mine, named Dunham, and I was a frequent visitor at
their house, as I had also made the acquaintance of the doctor's
son, a midshipman, who was at home a good deal on leave.
When the civil war broke out I always looked to see if this
young man ever arose to any distinction, but I never saw his name
mentioned; perhaps he died before the war.
I spent a
year in Meadville, but I can't dwell on that time, pleasant as is
the retrospect.
I returned to my home and, with the
consent of my guardian, went at once to live on my plantation, which
was under the care of an overseer. I wished to learn the duties of
my station, and fully made up my mind to spend my life as a cotton
planter. I think looking back
Page 20
to that olden time the
most delightful existence, and the most iudependent a gentleman
could have.
The highest ambition of all men in the south
at that time, so far as occupation was concerned, was to be a
planter, and to spend the most if not all his time on his
plantation. For this, the merchant invested his profits, the lawyer
his earnings, and indeed everybody saved all he could to attain to
this ideal life. The planter living upon his own lands, surrounded
by his slaves, a happy and childlike race in that day, dispensed a
broad and generous hospitality; no one was ever turned from his
door. For even the lowliest a place was found. His neighbors were
everybody within a day's ride from his home, and frequent visits
were made, the planter mounted on his splendid saddle horse, his
favorite mode of travel, and his wife and children in the carriage.
He was a proud man, proud of his wife and children, proud of his
plantation and slaves, proud of his stainless honor, and ready to
exact or give satisfaction for wrongs fancied or real, suffered or
done, not by the deadly pistol concealed in the hip pocket, but by a
meeting upon the field of honor, with mutual friends to see fair
play. These were the halcyon days of the south, gone never to
return, but the stories of those days, the sacred traditions, have
preserved, and will, I hope, continue to preserve the same spirit in
the descendants of those noble men, and keep them pure in race and
upright and honorable. In this lies the hope of the south to-day.
But what pen can do justice to southern society as it was before the
war, its wide influence for good all over the land; mine cannot. I
speak of a class and not of individuals, for there were rare
exceptions who were coarse and rude, as there are to-day men who,
forgetting the traditions of the past, destitute of gratitude and
honor, flaunt themselves in
Page 21
high places, scheming
only how best they may deceive the credulous and achieve their ends.
I have said that the negro of that day was a happy and
child-like creature. He had no wants not willingly supplied; he had
no care; his day's work done, he slept secure. Crime was literally
unknown to him. The planter left his wife and children on his place
surrounded by his slaves; sure that they were safe from harm.
Now, what is his condition? I speak not of a few bright
exceptions. Ask the jails, the penitentiaries, the lunatic asylums,
which are filled not from the ranks of the old slaves, but their
sons and daughters. No white man will now leave his family on his
place, surrounded by negroes alone, and often when I have been on
the bench, I have been constrained to excuse jurors for this reason.
Insanity was as unknown among negroes before the war as
homicides; each was extremely rare. I don't remember in those days
but one really crazy negro, though there were occasionally idiots,
and though we have now two large asylums, the jails are filled with
those who cannot be received. The homicides now committed by negroes
upon each other constitute the most frightful chapter in the history
of crime ever known among any people. This is easy to prove. What is
to be his ultimate destiny, no man can tell, but his only hope at
last is in the white people of the south. I take no account of the
comparatively few negroes in the north, nor do I here speak of the
negro in politics. This will come later.
Page 22
CHAPTER III.
Railroads--Shinplasters--Customs of the
times--Barbecues--Camp meetings--Militia drills--Shooting
matches--Music of the times--The preacher and the
robber--Indians--S. S. Prentiss--Dueling.
Before I
proceed with my story, I must pause to indulge in some reminiscences
of that far away time when I was a boy in Jefferson county, and give
some account of the manners and customs of the people and of their
amusements, and this chapter may be taken by way of parenthesis.
There were in those days no railroads, the first in the state being
the short line from Jackson to Vicksburg, over which I made my
memorable trip to interview Governor Brown. One other was projected
north from Natchez, and was actually finished for some seven or
eight miles, but this fell through for want of funds. It had a bank,
too, I remember, for those were the days of shinplasters as the
paper money of the numerous banks in the state was then called. The
mode of travel for gentlemen was on horseback; for ladies, on
horseback or in carriages.
The first thing when a
gentleman arrived on a visit, if it were not before eleven o'clock,
was to invite him to the sideboard to take a drink. This was the
universal custom except at the homes of preachers or very strict
members of the Methodist Church, and intoxication was rare except at
barbecues or assemblies to hear speeches when politics ran high. The
old fashioned barbecue of that time has passed away, for those we
have now-a-days are unlike them in many particulars.
Page 23
The men did not go to them loaded down with pistols, for
the deadly hip pocket was not then invented, and the pistol of the
day, with its long barrel and ugly flintlock, was too troublesome to
be carried. If arms were carried, and this was rare, it was the
bowie knife or dirk, and no body ever got hurt except the
combatants. Fights were common on those occasions, but they were
almost always fisticuffs, a word and a blow. There was always a
dance on the ground, and at night an adjournment to the nearest
house, when daylight put an end to it the next morning. The music
was the fiddle, played usually by a negro and such music! old men
forgot their age to join in the dance, for it was almost impossible
to hear it and keep still. It makes me young again to think of it;
not the long-drawn-out music of these days, but such soul-stirring,
heel-rocking tunes as "Arkansaw Traveler," "Mississippi Sawyer,"
"Sugar in the Gourd," "Jennie, put the Kittle on," "Nigger in the
Woodpile," "Natchez under the Hill," and others too numerous to
mention. Almost every plantation had its negro fiddler as well as
negro preacher, usually the biggest scamp on the place, and the
happy darkeys would dance to the one and shout to the other some
times the livelong night. The planter and his family often went to
look on.
Those were the days also of militia drills and
of shooting matches, usually following the drill. Everybody between
eighteen and forty-five was required to attend and bring his gun and
such a motley crowd and such an assortment of arms can never be seen
again.
But those were happy days, for if the daily paper
could not be had the good people never felt its loss, for they knew
nothing of it. In these days we can't live without it, for we must
hear the news from all the world every day, and twice a day if we
live where we can get an evening paper.
Page 24
The shooting matches were trials of skill with the long
rifle, sometimes at the head of a turkey and sometimes at a small
mark for beef, and there were many who could rival the skill of the
Leather-stocking.
Camp meetings were another feature of
those days, which have passed away before the advancing civilization
of the times; for if one is held now, I am told, a restaurant is
attached where meals are sold. In the days I speak of a shady grove
was selected near a good spring, and the well-to-do members of the
church--Methodist--for camp meetings, as far as I know, was a
distinct feature of that church, though preachers of other
denominations often helped--would build rude but comfortable
shanties, each large enough to accommodate from twenty to sometimes
forty guests, and to this the owner would move his whole family and
his house servants and keep open house with old fashioned
hospitality.
And then the preaching. With power and zeal
sinners were warned to repentance, and a vivid imagination could
almost see the fiery billows as they enveloped the hopeless, doomed
ones who cried too late for mercy where mercy never came. One sermon
I remember by the Rev. B. M. Drake, the father of a prominent lawyer
now living in Port Gibson. A man of stately presence, his text was:
"Hear, oh heavens, give ear, oh earth, for the Lord hath spoken: I
have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled
against me; the ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib,
but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider." Conceive the
effect which a sermon from this sublime text from the prophecies of
the royal prophet would have upon a congregation already wrought up
to the highest pitch of religious fervor by prayers and hymns, when
the preacher was eloquent and full of zeal for the salvation of the
souls of those who
Page 25
heard him, and which he firmly
believed would be lost forever if they did not repent.
The pioneer Methodist preachers in that territory were an
interesting class. Some I recall--the Rev. John G. Jones, whose
adventures when he was a young man were thrilling to hear; and
another, the Rev. Mr. Cotton, who, when I was a boy, was often at
our house; and I heard him tell of his adventure with a robber, a
story which Mr. Shields, in his Life of Prentiss, tells, I believe,
but a little differently from the way I had it from Mr. Cotton. He
was riding along a lonely road, when suddenly a man with a gun
stepped from behind a tree, and ordered him to halt. He then made
him ride into the woods, and demanded his money. He was like the
apostle, for "silver and gold" he had none. The robber, enraged,
told him to dismount, as he intended to kill him. Mr. Cotton asked
leave to pray before being put to death, and it was granted him. He
kneeled down by the side of a log, and, with closed eyes, prayed
fervently for his own reception into heaven, for the salvation of
the world, and, above all, for the pardon and salvation of the
sinful man who was about to imbrue his hands in his blood. When, at
last, he had finished, he arose, and, lo! the robber had gone. But,
I might fill pages with stories of that time without ever finishing
my own.
These were the days, also, of quilting bees, and
each house had its frame; the wealthiest as well as the poorest
planter's wife would save her scraps and sew them into squares,
stars and diamonds, until enough were gotten to make a quilt, and
then the neighboring ladies would come and gather round the frame
while the busy needles flew, and the busy tongues kept time till the
work was done. This was a source of great pleasure and amusement to
the married ladies, nor were the negro seamstresses, of which there
were always one or more on each
Page 26
plantation,
permitted to aid in this work. Now and then, in these days, one of
these old patch-work quilts may be found, a relic of other days, but
then piles of them were in every house. Sewing machines were not
even dreamed of; indeed, long after this, when my wife began to talk
of getting a machine, I laughed at the idea, for I did not believe
one could be made which would work. In those days, too, cooking
stoves were unknown in the south; it was not until I had been
married seven or eight years that I would consent to buy one. The
kitchen was never in the house, always at a distance from it, and
the fireplace, a huge affair, with an iron crane to hang the pots
over the fire in which boiling was done, while upon a great wide
hearth the coals would be raked out, upon which the skillets were
put to do the baking, while heaps of coal were put on their lids.
These were the days of hoe cakes, ash cakes and Johnnie cakes, and
no such cooking has ever been done since, and it makes my mouth
water now to think of it. But, good-bye to those good old times,
though memory still often brings them back.
In my
earliest recollection, there were a good many Indians still to be
seen in the country; these belonged to the Choctaws, for the brave
but ill-fated Natchez had disappeared from the face of the earth.
They made their last stand on a place known, perhaps, yet as Cicily
Island in what is now Louisiana, not far from Natchez, and the few
who were not killed or captured were dispersed and lost forever as a
tribe. It has been said that the dead Indian is the only good
Indian, and it may be so. But their story is a melancholy one, and
it is a pity a better fate was not reserved for them. They had the
vices of the barbarian, but they had virtues which none of the other
barbarous races ever had. The Indians I knew were a peaceful people,
the women making baskets from cane and the men subsisting by hunting
and making
Page 27
and selling to the white boys blow-guns,
a favorite weapon with the boys to shoot birds with in those times.
While I was still a small boy, the great Prentiss was
often in the county, sometimes attending the courts and sometimes
speaking at the political barbecues.
I remember to have
heard him in two of his great speeches, noticed specially by his
biographer, Shields. One was near Natchez and the other was at
Rodney. I was too young to appreciate his arguments, but I remember
well the words seemed to flow from his lips in a torrent and with
what enthusiasm they were received by his audience, and his face and
figure still dwell in my memory. He was a wonderful man, an
unrivaled orator.
Coming from the land "of steady
habits" to Mississippi, he became in a little while a typical
Mississippian of the olden time, when that name implied all that was
honorable and true. After I grew up and became acquainted with the
life and writings of Byron, I always associated the two together,
for each had the same lameness, and to this physical likeness there
were many things in their temperaments which were alike. Each died
in his prime. The name of Prentiss occurred to me here as I
remembered another custom of that time among gentlemen, an
"imperious custom," as it was called by a noted divine in his
eloquent funeral sermon at the burial of Alexander Hamilton, who had
fallen in his duel with Aaron Burr--the custom of dueling.
Mr. Prentiss fought two duels with Henry S. Foote, but it is
no part of my plan to give an account of these duels, but only to
mention the fact that in those days no man who had any regard for
his honor or character could refuse to fight if insulted or if he
had insulted another. The custom is just as "imperious" now as it
was then, for while the laws condemn it, yet public sentiment will
Page 28
condemn any man in public life, or whose business or
profession makes him prominent, who dares to refuse, to demand, or
give satisfaction on the field of honor in those cases where custom
has made it proper, if not imperative. But I must leave those old
times and hasten on.
Page 29
CHAPTER IV.
Marriage--Move to Bolivar county--Old town of Napoleon--The
hunter--Money--State banks--Overflows and levees-- Battle of
Armageddon--John Brown's raid--Effect in the south-- Election of Mr.
Lincoln.
On the 12th day of January, 1848 when I was but
little past eighteen and my wife not quite that age, I was married
to Miss Charlotte Clark, or, as she was always affectionately
called, Lottie Clark. She was the daughter of James Clark, who had
when she was an infant moved from Lebanon, Ohio, where she was born,
and a sister of General Charles Clark. We had been sweethearts as
long as I could remember, and she also had just returned from school
at Georgetown in the District of Columbia, having while there made
her home with an uncle living in Washington City. The family were
Marylanders, having originally come over with or as a part of Lord
Baltimore's colony, and her father had been born in Maryland, moving
when a young man into Ohio, where he lived till he was induced by
his son Charles, who had preceded him some years, to move his whole
family to Mississippi, becoming a cotton planter. He was not a large
planter, but he prided himself on the knowledge he had acquired of
the business, and especially on the cultivation of his crop, which
was always clean. He took special care in the neatness with which
his cotton was handled in preparing it for market, and it always
brought the highest market price. After I was married I was riding
one day with him through his field and to my surprise he said it had
Page 30
always seemed singular to him that there were red
and white blooms on the same stalk. I explained it to him; but the
fact was he had always been puzzled over it, but would not inquire.
Peace to his ashes; he was a good man and lived to a good old age.
We were young to marry, I especially, but I had for some
years been my own master; no objection was made by any one, I had a
home prepared to go to and ample support assured, and I took my
bride to our home. Our house was large and old fashioned, but
comfortable, and it was our delight to fill it with young people and
have the fiddler from the quarter, as the place where the negroes
lived was called, almost every night, though on set occasions we
would have the music from the towns, Fayette, Rodney, and sometimes
Natchez. In those days we knew no care, but were as light hearted as
our negroes who loved to crowd around the doors and windows of the
great house, as they called the residence in which their owner
lived, to see the fun. I usually kept an overseer, as most planters
did, and had ample time for amusements and reading, of which I was
always fond. I read everything, novels, history and that wonderful
book the Bible, of which I have been a student all my life. I read
also the usual text-books on law, though at the time I little
thought I would ever put this to any use. I had a good library for
the time, of books now out of print, if not also entirely useless,
at least many of them, in these days. My wife always had her hands
full, for what with company, the care of her household affairs, and
the looking after a half dozen servants and more on extraordinary
occasions, about which there was often a dispute if the crop was in
the grass, to which was soon added the care of a family, her time
was fully occupied. And so we passed the days happy when we lived in
Jefferson county.
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We lived on our
plantation in that county for seven years, when I sold the lands I
owned in that county and in Hinds and moved to Bolivar county to a
plantation I had bought and partly improved a year before. I had
been largely influenced to this move by my brother-in-law and friend
General Clark, who, having given up the practice of law in Jefferson
county, had already moved his family to a plantation he owned on the
banks of the river, not far above the old town of Napoleon, a live
town in those days, too much so for quiet people. It was the port at
which almost all the boats which plied their trade on the White and
Arkansas rivers made and received transhipments of freight, and
there was always a large and tough floating population. I remember a
curious adventure I had on one occasion. I had gone there to get a
boat to go down the river, as boats always landed there, while it
was not always easy to get one to land at other places. I had to
wait all day as it happened, and in one of my walks from the tavern
to the wharfboat, where I could see a long way up the river, I met a
man I had previously seen come into town with a cart loaded with
venison. There was no one near, it being some distance either to the
town or to the wharfboat. This man was in his shirt sleeves and
bloody from his occupation and was talking to himself. He was a
tough-looking customer and I proposed to give him a wide berth, but
seeing me he came directly to me. He had in his hand a five dollar
bill and he asked me to tell him whether it was, good money or not.
He said he had just sold a venison to a steamboat which was at the
landing and got it in payment. It was a bill of some bank in one of
the northwestern states (for every state had its own banking
system), and as I had never heard of the bank I told him I did not
know.
All along the river the country was flooded so to
speak
Page 32
with bills from Ohio, Illinois, Indiana,
Kentucky, Tennessee, and states too numerous to mention. No man
could tell not only whether the bills were genuine or not, but
whether they were worth a copper if they were genuine. Mississippi
alone had no banks of issue, the days of the shinplasters had cured
that state. Some of the banks of Memphis, Tennessee, were supposed
to be good and the bills were taken freely. The banks of New Orleans
were always solvent up to the war, and was the only paper money
which every body in this country would take without question.
I politely excused myself to the man and desired to pass on,
but he would not let me go till I had heard him through, which was
his life from the time he was a little boy when his father married a
second time, when he quarreled with his stepmother and ran away, to
that time. He told me of his success as a hunter, how much he made
and was in the highest degree confidential, that he intended soon to
quit his business and go back to his old home in Tennessee, join the
church and be always a good man. I did not know whether the man was
crazy or drunk, but in either case thought it best to humor him. At
last he admitted my excuses and permitted me to go, but he had
evidently taken a strong fancy to me for he wanted to know if I
wanted any money. I told him no, but he insisted, and pulling out an
old buckskin purse full of gold, evidently several hundred dollars,
told me to take what I wanted. The strange thing about it was, that
in a town like Napoleon then was, a man seemingly so free with his
money should have had any at all. I got away from him and though I
noticed him afterwards on the street I kept out of his way. Not a
vestige remains now of the old town of Napoleon, the insatiable
river has long since swept it away. The county of Bolivar when I
came to it, in January 1855, was an unknown wilderness
Page 33
save a few plantations on lake Bolivar and Egypt ridge, so
called because in the high water of 1844 it was not overflowed, and
a great deal of corn was made on it, and save also a few plantations
along the bank of the river. These plantations were all partly
protected by small private levees, for the entire country was
annually inundated by floods which came down the river every spring,
thus showing the absurdity of the idea some have that the great
overflows we sometimes have are due to the levees. The truth is,
this magnificent country is worthless without protection from
levees, and while we have not yet perhaps complete protection, yet
it is now settled that before many years have passed the great
government of the United States will assume control of the work and
protect the country. Already we have received and do receive great
aid through the river commission, and it is certain that this is
largely due to the persistent and untiring energy, zeal and tact of
one man, the Hon. Thomas C. Catchings, for so many years the member
of congress from the district where the levees are situated.
When General Catchings first became a candidate for congress
the vote of the district was largely, in fact, a majority, a negro
vote, for we had then no franchise law as now, which to a great
extent curbs and curtails the ignorant vote. I recollect in the
first speech he made in Rosedale in his first canvass, and when his
audience was mostly composed of negroes, in speaking of what he
hoped to do for the levees, his opponent being a negro, he told them
that much of the success which a member of congress could hope to
achieve would be due to his social standing with other members; and
this is true, for no matter how able a member might be, his social
qualities, his ability to make friends, his tact, were sure to
accomplish more than all the speeches he would make, no
Page 34
matter how eloquent he might be; and these qualities General
Catchings possesses in an eminent degree, and though experience has
shown that he is a man of ability, and well able to hold his own in
debate, yet his success is no doubt largely due to them.
When I came to Bolivar the levee system was in its infancy;
each county had its own system, and this in Bolivar had just been
put in operation, and levee building had just begun, and has
continued till now, and I suppose must continue for some time,
because it is admitted that the levees are not yet high and strong
enough to control the mighty floods which sometimes sweep down the
great river. Under the protection of the levees, imperfect as it yet
is, the wilderness to which I came in 1855, has now, in the year
1900 been made to "blossom as the rose," railroads traverse the
county, and towns, and villages have sprung up everywhere. We
settled on our place on the river below Napoleon, and lived there
for three years, and which during that time I greatly improved, but
was then tempted by a big price and sold the land to a gentleman
from South Carolina. About that time there was a great demand for
the fertile lands of the Delta by planters from all parts of the
south. I bought immediately another tract of land on the river,
where the town of Beulah is now situated. The town takes its name
from the name I gave my landing. This place I handsomely improved
with a fixed purpose of making it my home as long as I lived; but
this hope was not to be realized. The time was fast approaching when
devastating war was to overshadow the land, and when the torch of an
enemy was to be applied to every house upon the place, except one
insignificant shanty.
I remember to have read a few
years before the war a book which created some talk, called
"Armageddon,"
Page 35
written by a Methodist preacher named
Baldwin. This book purported to be an exposition of the United
States in prophecy. He attempted to show from the ancient prophecies
that the United States was to be engaged in war with a great
northern power, which he said was Russia, and that the battle-ground
was to be in the valley of the Mississippi. The country to be
invaded was a country of unwalled villages, a term that certainly
applied with great force to the south of that day, for every
plantation was a village. I could not but smile at the thought of a
hostile force, even if the country was ever to be at war with a
great nation, ever penetrating to my peaceful home, five hundred
miles from the coast, and yet a great northern power was in a few
years to sweep over the south as with a besom of destruction. Was
Baldwin a prophet, or was the great war between the states indeed
foretold in ancient scriptures, but not fully understood by Baldwin
when he wrote the book? I have the book yet, I think, but have
mislaid it and cannot find it; but certain it is that he published
the book some five or six years before the war commenced, and in it
he said the United States was to be engaged in the war, and that it
would commence in about 1861. I hope before I finish this to find
the book and correct this statement if I am wrong. He died before
the war as I remember, as was reported in the papers, and had been
described to me by one who knew him as a strange and peculiar
character, indeed thought by some to be deranged.
Until
the John Brown raid I had never for a moment lost my loyalty to the
union, but after that I became a secessionist; not because of the
attempt of this fanatic to bring on a war between the races in the
south, these things were to be expected, and were to be met and
defeated as was done in his case. But the manner in which his death
was received in the north, for he was looked
Page 36
upon as
a martyr to the cause of freedom and was almost deified by many,
convinced me as it did thousands of other union men in the state,
that if our liberties were to be preserved and the rights of the
states held sacred, we must endeavor to defend them out of and not
in the union.
The election of Mr. Lincoln by the votes
of the northern states, in the minds of most people in the south,
settled the question that safety could no longer be found in the
union, and all began to prepare for secession. I believe Mr. Lincoln
to have been a good man, and I think the course of events proved him
to be a great man, and I am sure if there had been no secession that
there would have been no interference by him, or with his consent,
with the rights of the southern states. But he was undeniably a
sectional candidate and elected upon a sectional issue, and this, in
my opinion then, and in my opinion now, fully justified the southern
states in secession, if as was claimed and believed by almost every
one in the south, this right existed under the constitution which
bound all the states together. Much has been said and written, both
before and after the war, on this question, and it remains unsettled
to-day, for the constitutional question was not settled by the war;
the only thing settled was that we of the south did not have the
power to exercise the right if it did exist, nor the power to win
our independence in a revolution, which right is acknowledged always
to be with all people when they think their liberties or rights are
in danger, of which they, and they alone, must be the judges. I do
not think Mr. Lincoln ought to be blamed in the south for the course
he took, for he could not do otherwise, and as for the south, no
other course with honor was left than to secede and leave the result
to the God of battles, if war should come, which most doubted and
few wanted.
Page 37
CHAPTER V.
Excitement--Elections before the war--Formation of
companies--Bolivar troop--Secession of the state--Mississippi a
nation--Army and custom houses--General Charles Clark--Anecdote.
I am not writing a history of the state, or of the war,
though perhaps it may be a little of both, at least as far as I was
personally concerned in events that occurred in the state, or in the
army, of which, to some extent, I was a part. Hence, I have passed
rapidly by many matters of interest in the history of the state to
the time when I became a resident of Bolivar county, even touching
lightly on the exciting campaign of 1851, in which the issue even
then was secession or union, though secession was not openly
advocated or avowed, except by a few extremists. I was deeply
interested in this, though too young to take a very active part for
I had not long become of age. I was then a unionist, and voted for
General Clark, who was the union candidate for the convention which
had been called, and afterwards for Mr. Foote, who, though a
Democrat, was the union candidate for governor, and was supported
generally by the Whigs. But the time had now come when I was to take
an active part in public matters, and in an election held in the
fall of 1855 I was elected a member of the board of police (now
supervisors) and its president, which office I held till the
secession of the state, when other and more exciting duties devolved
upon me. I recollect in this election less than ninety votes were
cast, and it was the full vote of the county. Less than fifteen
years afterwards, nearly or quite four thousand votes were cast in
the
Page 38
county, a surprising change and a sad and
humiliating one to the proud men who now looked on in utter
helplessness, while their emancipated slaves crowded them from the
polls. Elections before the war were simple affairs to what they
have since become in Mississippi. In the election of county
officers, politics was unknown; Whigs and Democrats ran as they
pleased, and were voted for without regard to their politics. The
same was true of judges, who were then elective. Only in the
election of state officers, members of the legislature, congress and
in presidential elections was the line drawn. The river counties of
the state, and most, if not all, of the large slave-holding
counties, were Whigs; the others, Democrats. In general elections,
the Whig counties would be first heard from, and the Whigs be often
sanguine of success; but wait, the Democrats would say, till you
hear from Tishomingo; and, sure enough, the Whigs would nearly
always be beaten.
As soon as the result of the
presidential election of 1860 was known, Governor Pettus called the
legislature together, and that body at once called a convention.
Excitement ran high, and General Clark, now an open and avowed
secessionist, was a candidate for the convention, his opponent being
Mr. Miles H. McGenhee. There was only one question in the canvas,
whether there should be separate state action or whether the State
of Mississippi should await the action of other southern states, for
all were agreed that the time for decisive action had come. On this
issue, General Clark, who was for separate action, was defeated, but
the convention, when it met, was overwhelmingly his way, and every
school boy now knows the result.
All over the state
military companies were formed, and in Bolivar a splendid cavalry
company, called the Bolivar troop, was organized, General Clark
being the captain,
Page 39
and I the 1st lieutenant. Our
captain alone knew anything about drilling the company, for he had
served in the Mexican war as colonel of the Second Mississippi
regiment. He was away a great deal, and the work devolved on me. I
applied myself with zeal to my new duties, bought books on military
tactics, and was soon able to put up a pretty good drill. Later,
when the state had seceded, the company was reorganized as a part of
the army of Mississippi, and I was elected and commissioned its
captain. It is a fact overlooked, or, at least, not noticed, as far
as I have seen, that Mississippi enjoyed for a time the honor and
distinction of being an independent nation. She dissolved her
connection with the union on the 9th of January, 1861, and formed no
new ties till she entered the Southern Confederacy by the act of a
convention of delegates from the state and other southern states at
Montgomery, Alabama, in February, 1861.
She had her own
army, commanded for a short time by Major-General Jefferson Davis,
with four brigadier generals, Earl Van Dorn, Charles Clark, J. L.
Alcorn and C. H. Mott. She also established a custom house at
Commerce on the river below Memphis; perhaps in other places which I
do not recall. All of these great men are gone, Mott being killed
early in the war. The life of Mr. Davis is known of all men; of
Generals Van Dorn and Alcorn, I will speak in other places, but will
here give a brief sketch of the life and services of that
distinguished citizen Charles Clark.
Elsewhere I have
said he was a great man, and so he was held by all who knew him. Of
an indomitable will, with a courage which never quailed, with an
intellectual capacity of the highest order, trained and polished,
but always subservient to his will, and with a devotion to his state
which was absolutely unselfish, no truer patriot ever lived and no
more gallant soldier ever drew
Page 40
his sword. He was
born in Cincinnati, Ohio, of, as I have said elsewhere, an ancestry
which came from Maryland, and came to the State of Mississippi when
a very young man, teaching school at first, but reading law at the
same time. As soon as he received his license, he opened an office
in Fayette, and rose at once to the front ranks of his profession,
the cotemporary and equal of the great lawyers of that day. He
served in the legislature both from Jefferson county and afterwards
from Bolivar.
He was colonel of the Second Mississippi
regiment in Mexico, and though the regiment was never in action, he
returned with the reputation of being a thorough soldier. He was
early appointed by Mr. Davis a brigadier-general in the Confederate
army, and commanded a division in the battle of Shiloh, where he was
wounded in the shoulder, carrying the bullet with him to the grave.
He also commanded a division at the battle of Baton Rouge. In this
battle he received the wound which confined him to his bed for many
months, and from which he never recovered. He has often told me that
both he and General Breckenridge, who commanded in the battle,
disapproved of the attack at Baton Rouge, believing the place
untenable, if the assault were successful, but it was ordered and a
soldier must obey. General Clark was left on the field too
desperately wounded to be moved. He was carried into the city by the
federals, and at his request was placed on a boat and sent to New
Orleans, where he could have the services of his old friend, Dr.
Stone, an eminent surgeon of that day. His wife was permitted to go
to him, and under their joint care in a few months he was exchanged
and able to return to Mississippi, though it was long before he was
able to walk even on crutches; indeed, as long as he lived he had to
use one at least. At the election of 1863, he was elected governor,
and this trying position he held till
Page 41
forced by
federal bayonets to yield. He was literally ejected from his office
by force, refusing to give it up on demand, for he said he had
received it from the people of the state and to them alone would he
surrender it. General T. J. Wharton, not long since gone to his
reward, then the attorney-general of the state, has often described
to me the scene when the federals marched into the office, and the
old hero, tall and commanding even on his crutches, stood in the
door and denounced the outrage, as one worthy a painter's highest
skill. He was taken to Fort Pulaski and there confined with other
distinguished southerners, but was finally permitted to return home.
He resumed the practice of his profession, and continued in the
quiet pursuits of private life till the summer of 1875, when he took
an active part in the redemption of the state from the blighting
effects of carpet bag rule. The people of the state had almost lost
hope, but gathering courage from despair, a tax-payers' convention
was called and held in Jackson the summer of that year, and General
Clark, a delegate from Bolivar, was elected chairman. This was the
entering wedge; the people then rose in their might and white
supremacy was restored forever in the state by the election of that
year. General Clark was then appointed chancellor of his district,
and held this office till his death about two years later. It was my
privilege to be with him in his last hours, for it is a privilege to
see a brave and good man die. He could not speak when I arrived at
his house, but his clear, bright eyes showed the conscious soul
within, and as he turned them on me, I would have given worlds if he
could then have spoken. He sleeps his last sleep on a high mound,
built by some ancient and long forgotten race, but as long as the
history of the state is read, his name and fame will live.
Two or three years after the war had ended he had
Page
42
occasion to visit Natchez and was accompanied by his
son-in-law, Major W. E. Montgomery. They took passage on a
Cincinnati boat. Among the passengers happened to be a gentleman who
had been a federal officer, and in the battle of Baton Rouge. This
gentleman and General Clark soon became known to each other, and
were talking about that battle when some northern man on the boat
who had been imbibing too freely interrupted them by contradicting a
statement the General made in a very insulting manner, saying, "old
man, that aint true." The General then could walk with one crutch
and a cane, a heavy lignum vitae, and he rose suddenly to his feet
and before the fellow could get out of reach brought the cane down
on his head with such force as to shiver it, and for a while render
him senseless. There was great excitement for a time, but it was
generally agreed that the punishment was well deserved, and the rest
of the trip was pursued in peace. I have this account from Major
Montgomery who saw it. Some years later there was a sequel to it. In
the summer of 1876, Gen. Clark paid a visit to a daughter then
living in California, and on return changed cars, I believe, at
Omaha. After he had got his seat and made himself comfortable on the
sleeper, the conductor told him he must change his seat, which he
refused to do. The conductor got angry and insulting, and said he
would make him do it, and went off to get the help. The negro porter
on the car who had been looking on, now came up and asked him if he
were not Governor Clark of Mississippi. The General was a good deal
surprised, but told him he was, whereupon the porter told him that
he was a porter on the steamboat, when he knocked the man down and
remembered him. The porter then went off in search of the conductor
and told him what he knew, and he was not further disturbed but was
kindly treated, especially by the porter who could not do
Page
43
too much for him. I asked the General when he told me the
incident, what he would have done if the conductor had tried to put
his threat into execution, and he said he would have made the best
fight he could with his crutches; he had them both on this trip, and
no cane, and of course carried no arms. He certainly would have made
the fight if it had cost him his life.
Page 44
CHAPTER VI.
Trip to New Orleans--Company in camp--An old
soldier's popularity and final fate--Take company to Memphis--
Roster of company--General Pillow--General William T.
Martin--Anecdote--Whether negro or white man--Life dependent on the
question--Ordered to Union City.
My company was for the
times well armed, the arms furnished by the state. We had sabers,
Colt's revolvers, and Maynard rifles, a breech-loading gun with a
metal cartridge. Each man furnished his own horse, and it was
splendidly mounted. I wanted only tents, for I was anxious to get
the men into camp and learn some of the practical duties of soldier
life. The state did not have them to spare, but there was no lack of
means to buy them; for besides that many of the officers and men
were well to do, the board of police gave us five thousand dollars,
for which it must be confessed they had no warrant, but they had the
money and everybody approved it. While the state was still a nation,
in the month of January I went to New Orleans to see if I could get
tents, and on this trip my wife went with me. When we got to
Vicksburg she for a time wished she had stayed at home, for it
looked warlike indeed. As our boat got in front of the city a cannon
was fired across the bows, perhaps two, to gently remind us that the
state authorities desired to know what we were after in that part of
the river. The boat was going to land any way, and the powder had as
well have been saved for more urgent need in the days which were to
come. This gun, as I learned afterwards, was under
Page
45
the command of Colonel Horace Miller, as he afterwards
became, a gentleman I knew well and esteemed highly. We got to New
Orleans without further interruption. I got my tents, and very fine
ones, by the aid of that splendid gentleman and afterwards gallant
soldier, General Wirt Adams, who was a banker in Vicksburg and also,
I believe, was in business in New Orleans. My funds were deposited
with him, and he finally got me the tents. While there I found and
bought handsome officers sabers for myself and lieutenants, and
later on in this story I will tell what became of mine. I also got
handsome cavalry saddles for myself and officers, but could not get
them for the men.
When I got my tents home I at once
ordered the company into camp, and they came promptly. But an
amusing difficulty presented itself: none of us had ever pitched a
tent, except one man, and he had not yet come. He was not long,
however, and when he came soon set us all straight. His name was
Milford Coe, and he had been a member of the second Mississippi
regiment in Mexico, hence knew something about army camp life. He
was at the time an overseer in the county, and was very well liked
by those who knew him. His knowledge of camp life made him for a
time very popular, but after he had been in service a few months he
was so much disliked that I procured a discharge for him. He
returned home, and early in the next year located himself on Island
Seventy-Six, opposite the town of Bolivar, and gathered around him a
gang of desperadoes, negroes and whites, and began systematically to
prey upon the people on the main land, who finally organized a
force, and, after capturing him, brought him over and shot him to
death in a cane brake, where his bones were left to bleach, a well
deserved fate. I kept my men in camp, in fact, never broke it, till
I finally got away. Meantime
Page 46
events were rapidly
drawing to a crisis between the United States and the young
confederacy, and the hope of peace which many had entertained was
being fast dispelled. Some infantry regiments had been organized and
were ordered to Pensacola and to Charleston, where General
Beauregard was in command, and where it was supposed the first
collisions would occnr.
My men were getting impatient to
be away, and I was myself, for about that time some business took me
to Jackson, and while there several companies passed through on
their way to Pensacola, and it was all I could do under the
excitement, and the influence of the inspiring music of the fife and
drum (to me yet the most exciting music in the world), to refrain
from getting on the cars and going with them. I sent Lieutenant
Bell, of my company, to Montgomery to see if I could get the company
ordered into service, but the authorities were not yet ready to
receive cavalry. Lieutenant Bell was a nephew of John Bell, the last
Whig candidate for president, which great party was lost and
destroyed forever in the great campaign of 1860. Meantime war had
actually commenced by the reduction of Fort Sumter and the call by
Mr. Lincoln for seventy-five thousand volunteers. The capital of the
confederacy had been moved to Richmond, and many troops were being
hurried to that place, but still there was no special demand for
cavalry. The State of Tennessee had seceded and was raising an army,
though it had not yet joined the confederacy. General Gideon J.
Pillow was placed in command of it, and had his headquarters in
Memphis. I went to see him and offered him my company with the
understanding, when the army of Tennessee was turned over to the
confederacy, it should be distinctly recognized as part of
Mississippi's troops, and to this he readily agreed.
I
returned at once, and soon had the company ready to
Page 47
embark on a boat I had engaged to take us to Memphis. I took my
leave of home and wife and children, then six in number, the eldest
about eleven years old, to which number was to be added in about two
months another. I do not suppose it would have made any difference,
but I did not dream when I left that I was not to see them again
except on brief visits and at rare intervals for four long years.
How could I? Each side went into that long and bloody war with a
supreme contempt for the courage and resources of the other, though
of course on both sides there were thoughtful and well-informed men,
who knew that when once the sword was unsheathed, only complete
victory for one side or the other would end the war. I got my men to
together mostly at the town of Prentiss, the county site, there to
take boat, I myself to join them a few miles above at my own
landing, Beulah. I wish I had a complete roster of the company as it
was mustered into service a few days later at Memphis, but this I
have not, but fortunately I have, in a clipping from the county
paper of that day, a list of all those who embarked at Prentiss and
Beulah, sixty-eight in number at those two points. These names I
here record, and will add others who joined me at other landings in
the county or in Memphis, bringing the company up to about one
hundred officers and men. I deeply regret that I cannot recall the
names of each one of these last, of whom I have no written
memoranda. But this was thirty-nine years ago, and it is surprising
to myself that I remember so many. The names follow:
F. A.
Montgomery, Capt., D. C. Herndon, 1st Lieut., Lafayette Jones, 2d
Lieut., Dickinson Bell, 3d Lieut., S. A. Starke, Ord. Serg. S. G.
Cooke, 2d Serg., Livingston Lobdell, 3d Serg., A. G. Harris, 4th
Serg., F. A. Gayden, 5th Serg., John Lawler, 1st Corp. Page 48
Orrin Kingsley, 2d Corp., T. W. Darden, 3d. Corp., Harry
Bridges, 4th Corp.Privates:
Gadi Herren, J. N. Philpot, E.
Norton, Jos. Orr, John Thompson, William Barker, Milford Coe, T. L.
Yarbrougher, S. D. G. Niles, T. W. Hume, Enoch Curtiss, T. R.
McGuire, John B. Stewart, William O'Brien, Patrick Hullens, Henry G.
Reneau, John Debrouler, N. McCullough, James Heath, L. M. Hunter,
John C. Miller, Theo. Frank, R. A. Looney, S. F. Jenn, T. H.
Spencer, John Sherrer, Matt. Downs, John Dickey, D. C. Montgomery,
T. J. Bouge, J. H. Brown, Henry P. Goodrich, William Glass, H. H.
Irwin, James Mattingly, A. Eatman, William Peake, William Bridges,
Frank Tully, L. M. Sykes, D. W. Davidson, P. M. Davidson, Thomas
Graham, A. B. Justice, W. N. Stansell, J. J. Ross, Geo. Roden, A. B.
Conner, O. P. Bishop, J. M. Boroman, R. C. Miller, Joseph H. Newman,
--New. Others of the original company whose names I recall,
absent at the time, or who joined immediately afterwards, were Clay
Kingsley and David Reinach, of Bolivar, J. M. and Will. Montgomery
and Will. Mason Worthington, Bert, Will. W., Ed. and Ben.
Worthington,
Page 49
from Washington county, and Alf.
Saunders, Charley Saunders and--Trawick, from Arkansas. To these
were soon added Charles C. Farrar, then of Ohio, a nephew of my
wife, who made haste to join me, and W. A. Alcorn, from Coahoma
county; also, Charley Worthington, of Washington. It may be I may
remember others of the original company, but there were but few
more, since the names I have given made almost or quite a full
company, according to the army regulations of those days as I
remember them.
Of the officers and non-commissioned
officers of this splendid company who went out with me, I alone am
left to linger for a short while longer on the shores of time. Of
the men, not a dozen now survive. Many were killed in battle; some
died with disease during the war, and the remains of these lie in
half a dozen different states. They gave their lives for the cause
they loved, and shame on the man who would now say they were wrong.
Of the remnant who returned home, one by one they have gone to join
the majority, till as I have said not a dozen now survive. Bolivar
county furnished other companies to the confederacy--the McGehee
Rifles, Captain, afterwards Colonel Brown, commanding; a cavalry
company, Captain Mason, afterwards Captain Shelby, a splendid
company officered by young planters of the county, and composed of
light-hearted sons of the Emerald Isle, Captain Martin, who was
killed at the battle of Sharpsburg. Lieutenant Miller, of that
company, and one old, disabled soldier, Mike Monahan, now the care
of the kind-hearted, are all of that company living here, perhaps
the only two now living.
We reached Memphis one morning
in May, 1861, and I at once reported to General Pillow, who ordered
me to put my command in camp at the fair grounds, and gave
Page
50
me transportation for my tents and baggage. I went to the
boat and directed Lieutenant Jones to take the company to the camp,
First Lieutenant Herndon having his family with him to look after. I
was myself detained looking after quartermaster and commissary
matters. But few of the men had saddles, as I expected to be able to
get a uniform saddle for the whole company, and therefore had
instructed them not to bring their saddles. As soon as I could I
hastened to follow them, and overtook them just as they turned out
of Main street. They formed a long, straggling column, some mounted
bare-back, others leading their horses, all encumbered with baggage
besides their arms, and presented a ludicrous appearance. Lieutenant
Jones was riding at the head of the column, mounted on a fine gray
horse, and just as I got in sight of him he turned in his saddle and
gave the command, "draw saber," and a scene of confusion ensued
which provoked me to laughter, though I was vexed and mortified. The
men tried to obey, and every man began to tug at his saber, whether
mounted or unmounted. I, of course, put an end to the scene as soon
as I could, and the truth was the lieutenant wholly forgot for the
time being the condition of his command and what he was ordered to
do, and thought he was on drill. We soon arrived at our camping
ground, and in a short time had tents pitched, rations and forage
issued, guards stationed, and for the first time we felt we were
soldiers.
I found already in camp at the grounds a fine
cavalry company from Natchez, commanded by Captain, afterwards
Major-General, William T. Martin. I had known and admired him when I
lived in Jefferson county, as a fine lawyer, and once just as I was
of age served on a jury where he was employed for the prosecution,
and which was of so much interest to me that I will briefly state
the case. It has never been reported, for in fact
Page 51
only one question in the case was ever settled and that was the
issue tried before my jury. There was a free mulatto negro named
Johnson living in Natchez, a barber that every one liked, and he
acquired a little property somewhere on the river, not far from
Natchez, and near a plantation owned by a man named Wynn. This man
was quite well-to-do, owning a plantation and about thirty slave
hands, as it was said. Johnson went one day to his little place
accompanied by a mulatto boy about sixteen years old he had in his
shop. This boy returned to town saying that Wynn had, as they were
riding along the road stepped, from behind a tree and shot Johnson,
and his body was found where the boy said it was. Wynn was arrested
and put in jail and soon after indicted for the murder. The
indictment described him as a mulatto, and though he had married a
white woman, that he had in some other county persuaded to marry
him, he had generally been considered of African descent, where he
was best known. To this indictment a plea in abatement had been
interposed, the defense claiming that he was not a negro, under the
law, as it was claimed he had less than one-fourth negro blood in
his veins. If this was true there was no direct evidence against
him, as he would be a white man under the law, and the testimony of
the mulatto boy who saw the shot could not be taken--the testimony
of negroes not then being admissible against white people. There was
a change of venue to Jefferson county on this issue. The jury was
kept together for a week and there was a great deal of testimony,
but Judge Posey, one of the able judges of the olden time,
instructed the jury that the burden of proof was on the state, and
the jury found for the defendant.
General Martin's
speech was one of the ablest I ever heard, and though it took, as I
remember, three or more
Page 52
hours in the delivery, the
attention of the jury never wavered. The indictment was quashed and
Wynn afterwards indicted as a white man, but I believe got bail and
was never brought to trial.
We remained at this camp
about two weeks, and I succeeded in getting pretty fair saddles for
the company, so that when we left we made a very soldier-like
appearance. I devoted all the time I could to drilling the company,
but beyond this nothing of any special interest occurred while we
remained at that camp. I was ordered to Union City, Tennessee, and
Captain Martin's company to Richmond, Virginia, about the same time,
so we were never together again during the war.
Page 53
CHAPTER VII.
General Frank Cheatham--First Mississippi
Cavalry Battalion, Major Miller--General Cheatham's staff--Battle of
Manassas, war over--Occupation of New Madrid--Brigadier-General M.
Jeff. Thompson, Missouri State Guard--His army--Evacuate New
Madrid--Return next day--Scout to Charleston--Lose a man,
captured--Great excitement at home over this--Hickman,
Kentucky--Gunboats--Captain Marsh Miller and the Grampus--Columbus,
battalion increased.
My baggage, or most of it, I sent
by rail to Union City, and, with a squad under a lieutenant with a
few sick, marched with the main body of the company to my
destination. General Pillow supplied me with what wagons and,
indeed, all I needed in profusion, and I made the march leisurely,
arriving on the fifth day. I found a place selected for my camp and
occupied by the men I had sent before. I was ordered to report to
General Frank Cheatham, who was in command of the Tennessee forces
at that place, of whom there were at the time several thousand, as
were also several infantry regiments from Mississippi belonging to
the confederate army, but these were under the command of General
Clark, whose headquarters was then at Corinth. I found also several
companies of cavalry from Mississippi, which were attached to
General Cheatham's command, with the same agreement I had. One of
these companies and a very large one from Pontotoc county, was
commanded by Captain Miller, and the other from Lafayette county
commanded by Captain Jack Bowles. These companies with mine were
organized into a battalion, and Captain Miller was elected its
major. Very soon
Page 54
after this the Tennessee forces
were turned over to the confederacy, and our battalion was known as
the First Battalion of Mississippi Cavalry, which number it retained
as other companies were from time to time in the course of the next
few months added till there were ten, and from that time on for all
time was to be known as the First Mississippi Cavalry regiment. But
this is anticipating. Major Miller was a Presbyterian divine about I
think fifty years old, but as full of military ardor as the youngest
man of his command. When the Tennessee forces were turned over to
the confederacy, General Pillow received a commission as
brigadier-general in the confederate army, but remained for a time
at Memphis, while General Cheatham received the same rank and
remained in command of the army at Union City. General Cheatham was
a veteran of the Mexican war, and I found him to be a frank and
genial soldier, and for him and his staff, Colonel Porter and
Captain Frank McNairy, those with whom I had most to do, I formed
from the first the highest opinion, and among my most pleasant
recollections of the war is my association with them, which was to
continue closely till after the evacuation of Columbus, Kentucky,
early in March as I remember, or the last of February in 1862, after
the fall of Fort Donelson.
Our time at Union City was
occupied with constant drills and reviews, with much impatience
among the men to be closer to the enemy. But this was by no means
time lost, for neither officers nor men with the rarest exceptions
knew anything whatever about the duties they had to perform. The
camp was in a constant state of excitement from news of fights in
different parts of the country, in Virginia, South Carolina and
Missouri, and in fact all along our border.
At last came
the news of the first battle of Manassas
Page 55
and the
utter rout of the federal forces, and the almost universal opinion
among the men at Union City was that the war was over, and that they
would be compelled to go home without having seen an enemy or having
fired a shot, and there was general disgust at the thought.
We little knew the grim determination of the northern
people, and they as little understood the fixed purpose of the
south. In fact, in neither north nor south was any thought given to
that bull dog tenacity which belongs to the Anglo-Saxon race, to
which both sides belonged. Like Paul Jones, when summoned to
surrender by the captain of the Serapis, we had but "just begun to
fight."
At last, one day early in August (I write from
memory, for such memoranda as I once had were destroyed in the
burning of my office some years ago, and so far as I have been able
to find, history makes no mention of the movement I am now to
describe), all baggage, including tents and most of the ammunition,
was ordered placed on the cars for Memphis. The men were ordered to
take three or four days' cooked rations, and a fixed number of
rounds of ammunition to the man, and prepare to move. Many were the
speculations indulged in, but except at headquarters none knew the
purpose of the move or the destination of the army. At last we moved
almost due west, and in a few days found ourselves on the banks of
the Mississippi river a few miles below New Madrid, Missouri, and
then embarking on boats waiting for us, in a few hours were landed
at that place. Here in a few days was concentrated a force of about
ten thousand men of all arms (rumor made them many more), and here
we felt we were close to the enemy, for every day we had rumors of
fights between what was said to be a large force of men composed of
Indians and Missourians under Brigadier-General M. Jeff. Thompson,
of the Missouri state guards, and the federal troops. He was said to
be sometimes near
Page 56
Charleston and sometimes near
Sykeston, one place about twenty-five miles north and the other same
distance west of New Madrid, but we never saw his forces, though a
few men without uniform of any kind, and armed with double-barreled
guns, would now and then be seen about the camp, who were said to be
Jeff. Thompson's men. General Thompson, I one day saw, as he was
riding through the camp on his way, as it was said, to his own
forces. The stories told about him and his army and fights were many
and curious, and the fiction as to his Indian soldiers was kept up
for a long time, and even when in the summer of 1862 he was in
Mississippi, where I came directly into association with him under
peculiar circumstances.
General Pillow came to New
Madrid, and assumed personal command of the army, and it was
supposed we were about to march from that place on St. Louis. To
give more color to this rumor, Major Miller was ordered with all the
cavalry, except my company, which was retained for picket and
scouting, to join General Thompson a short distance west of
Sykeston, and a brigade of infantry and a battery of artillery, with
an ammunition train of some twenty wagons, with my company to guard
them, was ordered to Sykeston. However, we remained only a few days
in Sykeston, when we were ordered back, and in a day or two Major
Miller was also ordered back. There were constant alarms in camp,
and we were kept on the qui vive all the time, it being said the
enemy was preparing to bring a large force down the river, supported
by gunboats, and whenever a smoke was seen up the river everybody
was on the alert. And now occurred a curious move for which there
was no doubt good reasons, though no one knew what they were.
The tents were struck and with the baggage put on boats, of
which there were quite a number, the infantry and artillery
embarked, and the cavalry ordered to march
Page 57
down the
river. We went some twelve or fifteen miles and then bivouaced on
the bank of the river for the night with the boats tied up near us.
Next morning we were ordered back, boats and all. It reminded me of
the king of France, who with "twenty thousand men marched up the
hill and then marched down again."
Soon after we got
back Captain Bowles proposed to me that we should each take a squad
of twenty-five men and make a scout to Charleston. He said he had
formed the acquaintance of two lieutenants of Jeff Thompson's men
who lived in that place or near it and would guide us. His idea was
that the federals at Birds' Point opposite Cairo, and some ten or
twelve miles from Charleston, had no doubt heard of our move down
the river, but had not heard of our return and that we might succeed
in surprising a scouting party, as it was known federal scouts often
came to that place. I was willing and Major Miller consenting I went
to see General Pillow, who was pleased with the idea, and giving me
his instructions, especially to bring him back some prisoners, we
got away at once. We marched nearly all that night, and next day lay
in a secluded place not far from Charleston all day, though it was
not easy to find in that open country, one of the most beautiful I
have ever seen, a good hiding place. Our plan was at night each to
take one of the Missouri lieutenants and picket two roads leading
into Charleston from Birds' Point, along either of which, according
to our guides, a party was likely to come, and which we hoped to
surprise.
While we were waiting for night to come I
heard one of my men, Frank Gayden, talking about what he intended to
do if he met the Yankees, as he called them. He never intended to
take a prisoner, he would kill every one he got hold of. I
remonstrated with him for his blood-thirsty talk, and asked him how
he would like to
Page 58
have his intentions carried out
against himself if he should be captured. That he said would never
be, he would never be taken alive. Twelve hours more was to put him
to the test. Nothing happened to disturb the quiet of my watch on
the road I was guarding, and after waiting for some hours after
daylight I concluded if a scout had that morning come out it must
have taken the other road, and that perhaps Captain Bowles had been
more fortunate, and so I directed the lieutenant I had with me (I
remember his name was Gooden) to take me to a quiet place not far
from Charleston, into which place I proposed to go later in the day,
and where we could get some sleep, for we had but little for two
nights. He guided me to a skirt of woods about a mile from
Charleston, which was in full view across an open field, and then
proposed with two or three men he had with him to picket the roads
for me. Having confidence in him I consented, directing him if he
got any news of the enemy to let me know at once. Feeling secure I
went to sleep, as did, I thought, all the men, but after some time I
was awakened by Frank Gayden, who said there was a squad of men on
the road whose actions he did not like. I went to a fence where I
could see, three or four hundred yards away across the field on the
road leading from Charleston, and which ran by my bivouac, three men
on horseback, all in citizen's clothes, and one of them I recognized
as Lieutenant Gooden. by his horse. They were all sitting quietly on
their horses and seemed to be talking. I told Gayden it was Gooden
and, I supposed, some citizens, but to mount his horse and go and
see what news there was, if any, and come back at once and report,
and then went to sleep again. I did not wake for some time, but when
I did, and inquired for Gayden, I found he had not returned. Some of
the men said they saw him ride up to the three men in the
Page
59
road and then all had ridden off briskly towards Charleston.
About that time seeing a citizen in the road I had him brought to
me, and to my surprise and chagrin learned Gayden and Gooden were
prisoners, and by that time nearly to Birds' Point. I got away at
once from what I began to feel was a dangerous place, as indeed it
was, for I was twenty-five miles from camp, and even with Captain
Bowles I felt I would be too weak for such a force as could be
brought against me. I soon joined Bowles, and together we made our
way back to camp. When I reported to General Pillow that instead of
bringing him a prisoner I had one of my own men taken, and the
manner in which it was done, he said he did not see how a soldier
could allow himself to be taken in the manner described, and neither
could I, especially my bloodthirsty young friend Gayden. The worst
of it was the news at home, it created more excitement than the
killing and wounding of fifty men two years later. His brother came
to see about it, and strange to say I was very much censured, and
great sympathy was extended to the silly fellow who deliberately
walked into a trap with his eyes open in broad daylight. It made him
a hero, and Lieutenant Bell resigning a short time after, Gayden was
elected in his place. He was exchanged in a few days, some unlucky
fellow on the other side having been taken prisoner. From Gayden I
learned that Gooden had been taken prisoner by two scouts in plain
clothes; that he seeing Gooden thought everything all right and rode
up to the men. One of them leveled Gooden's shotgun on him and told
him to surrender, which he promptly did. I asked him why he did not
attempt to escape, as he was well mounted as well as armed, and he
knew help was at hand. He said the fellow looked like he would
shoot--and this was the man
Page 60
who the day before did
not intend to take prisoners and would die before he would be taken!
Early in September, 1861, the cavalry was put across the
river opposite New Madrid, and ordered to march to Hickman,
Kentucky. Major Miller being absent with a flag of truce which had
gone to see about the exchange of Gayden, I was the senior officer
in command, and made a rapid march to Hickman, going light, without
wagons or baggage of any kind. When we got there, I found General
Cheatham with several regiments of infantry and some artillery, he
having gone by boat. In a little while afterward, and while I was
awaiting orders, occurred what was described in an almanac published
in Vicksburg, Mississippi, for 1862, but giving a synopsis of the
war for 1861, as an engagement between the federal and confederate
forces, in which the former were repulsed. The same almanac
contained also a reference to an engagement between confederates and
federals at Charleston, on August 21st, which, I suppose, refers to
my scout and the capture of Gayden, as it was said the confederates
were defeated, since there was nothing else to which it could refer.
But, to the Hickman affair. Dense volumes of smoke were seen up the
river, and there was great excitement in town, women and children
running in every direction, the long roll beat and cavalry bugles
sounded, and guns placed in commanding positions to resist a
landing, for we all thought a large force was coming to attack the
place. First came in sight a little stern-wheel boat owned by the
confederates, painted black, with a six-pound gun on her bow, and
named the Grampus, commanded by Captain Marsh Miller, an old river
pilot whom I had long known. He was running for dear life from two
huge and to us, then, formidable looking gun-boats. These were
firing occasional shots as
Page 61
they came on, and truly,
to new soldiers, as we all were, except General Cheatham, it looked
serious. Captain Marsh Miller, as soon as he got opposite to the
command on the bank, turned his boat in midstream and began firing
at the gun-boats, though I could see his shots fell far short.
General Cheatham had planted a twelve-pound rifle gun on the bank,
and, after a few shots were exchanged, the gun-boats retired. A
little longer delay and they would probably have been taken at
Columbus, for a force under Pillow, with guns, reached that place
while the smoke was still visible above the city. The flurry over,
and Major Miller having about that time caught up with the command,
bringing with him my missing man Gayden, the cavalry was ordered
forward to Columbus.
We found that place already
occupied by our troops, and it was not long before a large force was
concentrated there, for awhile under the command of General Pillow,
but a little later General Polk arrived and took command. I saw but
little of General Pillow after this, but I had for several months
been in a position to observe him closely, and I had formed a very
favorable opinion of him, both as a man and officer. He was a
courteous gentleman, with some vanity, perhaps, and with a high and
noble ambition for distinction in the army, but he failed, for,
after the battle of Fort Donelson, from which place he escaped, he
was but little heard of in the army; at least, I believe, never
again had any prominent place of command.
Soon after the
occupation of Columbus, by the division of Major Miller's old
company, and the addition of another, the battalion had five
companies, and Major Miller was elected lieutenant-colonel, and
First Lieutenant D. C. Herndon, of my company, elected
Page 62
major. R. A. Pinson, of Pontotoc county, was elected captain of
the new company from Pontotoc, and with him my fortunes were to be
intimately connected till the end of the war. But this is not the
place to do justice to him.
Page 63
CHAPTER VIII.
Gunboats and Grampus--Ordered with squadron to Belmont--Colonel
Tappan in command--Watson's Battery--Old college mate--Dashing poker
player of old times, one of the Watsons--Scouting--First
fight--Federal sergeant killed--Leave of absence, battle of
Belmont--Winter quarters--State troops under General Alcorn--New
orderly sergeant--Old acquaintance from California--Runaway
negroes--Detailed on recruiting service--Battle of Shiloh--Battalion
increased to regiment--Colonel Lindsay in command--His habits--Army
falls back to Tupelo.
For some weeks the chief
excitement of the camp was to gather on the bluff, and see the
federal gunboats pursue Captain Marsh Miller, as he would return
from his daily scout up the river. There was a long stretch in the
river above Columbus, without a bend, and the captain with his
little boat would sometimes be gone so long, that it was feared he
had been captured, but presently his boat would be seen coming under
all the steam it could bear, and its whistles screaming as it came,
while behind would come the gunboats firing as they came. When
finally he got under our guns on the bluff, he would stop and turn
and pop away with his six pounder. Meantime the guns on the bluff
would be manned and the fire of the gunboats returned. No damage was
ever done on either side for they never came near enough. At last we
got a big gun, but it burst, killing and wounding several of our own
men. It was great sport to watch the Grampus, which was really
handled in a daring manner by Captain Miller, who is still living,
an honored citizen of Memphis. The cavalry made frequent scouts to
the
Page 64
north without, however, ever seeing an enemy,
going sometimes almost to Paducah.
These things, with
the inevitable drills and reviews and exciting news from other
places, where there were occasional skirmishes, called sometimes
battles, together with daily rumors of the intended approach of the
federal army from Cairo, kept us busy all the time. But about the
last of September, Colonel Tappan's Arkansas regiment of infantry
and a battery of artillery, known as Watson's battery, were
stationed across the river at Belmont, and I was ordered to take
Captain Jack Bowles' company and my own, the two forming a squadron
under my command as senior captain, and report to Colonel Tappan. I
found him to be all that could be desired in a commanding officer
and he afterwards rose to the rank of brigadier general, a deserved
promotion, and is living at this writing in Helena, Arkansas,
enjoying the esteem and love of his fellow citizens.
My
business was to scout and picket the roads on that side of the
river, and the colonel left me to my own discretion as to how to do
it, a confidence which I highly appreciated. I here met Gus. Watson
of Watson's battery, who was an old friend and college mate of
Oakland College, but whom I had not seen for years. He was one of
several brothers, all wealthy, and all of whom I had known while at
the college and for some years after. They were all gentlemen of
character and standing, and all were dashing poker players, and I
had played many a game with them. It was quite common in those days
for gentlemen to play, and frequent trips were made on the fine
steamers of those days to New Orleans, ostensibly on business by
parties of gentlemen, but really oftener to play poker. From the
dashing play of these men came the phrase "to play it like the
Watsons", which is still heard, I am told, almost everywhere among
poker
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players, to this good day. Gus. Watson had
bought and equipped this battery at his own expense, and was with
but not holding any command or place. I had with me a gentleman who
was also along for the excitement and not mustered into the service.
He wanted to be, but I persuaded him not to be, as I wanted him to
stay at home. This was Dr. J. J. Ross, a planter and physician of
Bolivar county.
He and Watson became great friends and
both always went with me on my scouts. My first care was to examine
all the roads leading to our position and all the country around for
some miles so as to know where to station my pickets. The county was
mostly open woods and one could ride anywhere. My next was to secure
a competent guide, and I was fortunate in finding a good one. I wish
I could remember his name for he certainly knew the country well,
all the way up the river to Bird's Point, and it was he who first
discovered the enemy were landing for the battle of Belmont, his
house being on the river some distance outside of my picket lines.
In Columbus before I crossed to Belmont and afterwards when I had
got there, I heard the usual rumors about Jeff. Thompson and his men
who were said to be constantly fighting, a little further up the
river, and I determined to find them if they were to be found, so I
began to scout almost every day, going with my guide a little
further every time. It was on one of these scouts I first heard that
to me curious provincialism, "we-uns" and "u-uns." I rode up to a
house in the woods and inquired of a girl who came to the door, when
she had seen any soldiers about there. She wanted to know if "u-uns
was the yankee cavalry," a somewhat mortifying question, but in a
little while she said we-uns had not seen any soldiers since Jeff
Thompson's men had been there, and when I inquired for them she knew
nothing of them. This was as near as I ever
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came to
seeing them and I began to think they were a myth, but my guide said
before I came over there really had been a company who called
themselves Jeff Thompson's men, but who had gone, no one knew where.
My constant scouts without ever seeing an enemy began to
tire the men as well as myself; indeed we never had been able so far
to find any positive signs of them. I knew they were in considerable
force at Bird's Point, and that scouts were made down the river from
that place, but this was about all. I was anxious to come in contact
with them, for I wanted to know how I would feel, and had some
little anxiety as to whether I could stand fire with any degree of
coolness. There was about fifteen miles above us on the banks of the
river a large plantation or farm owned by a Mr. Hunter, a strong
southern man, who had abandoned it and came to a smaller place he
owned near Columbus to be out of the way of federal raids. There was
a large amount of forage left on the place, and Colonel Tappan
decided to send and get it. He sent five companies of his regiment,
a section of Watson's battery, all the wagons he could get and my
entire squadron. I had already been many times to the farm and
beyond it, so I knew the country pretty well. I went now about a
mile or more above the farm, guarding the roads leading to it until
the wagons were loaded and well under way down the river with the
infantry and artillery. Then selecting thirty of the best mounted
men I had, I ordered the balance of the cavalry back to camp. With
my guide I then continued on up the river till we came to a road
which the guide said led across the country to Bird's Point, a
shorter route than by the river, about five miles away. Here I
discovered unmistakable signs of the enemy, for the cross-roads as
well as the river road going up the river was full of innumerable
shod horse tracks.
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Deciding to explore
the cross-road with a view to returning with the entire squadron and
not expecting to meet any enemy, for it was then late in the
afternoon and so many of the tracks were fresh seemingly having just
been made, I started on it in the direction of Bird's Point, sending
eight men ahead as an advance, and with these went my friends, Ross
and Watson. My guide said about a mile away there was a farm and
family living on it, and my purpose was to go that far and return,
as it was fully twenty-five miles to camp. We had gotten nearly to
this farm, which could be seen across a narrow strip of woods, when
my advance, which had gotten through the woods, were seen suddenly
to halt then turn and gallop back. I ordered the men to form in
line, which was promptly done, and then looked to see what the
matter was. The road where it left the wood on the other side made a
short turn, and on one side was a clump of papaw bushes just where
it turned, so that I could not see far down it. I did not have long
to wait for the cause of the retreat of the advance, for before they
could reach me a body of blue coats in column of fours at full
gallop came into sight. They were in fast pursuit of the advance and
could not see my line till in about a hundred yards of it, when they
promptly halted and formed a line. I never saw before and I don't
think I ever saw afterwards a prettier sight. I estimated them to be
about fifty strong as their line was longer than mine. As they were
forming, I ordered my men to fire, and thirty Maynard rifles cracked
together. I knew my men were all good shots, and as they fired I
looked to the enemy and fully expected to see a dozen saddles
emptied by the fire, but I saw none fall, and they coolly formed,
and then occurred the liveliest fusilade which had ever up to that
time been heard in that country. Both sides stood their ground well,
and I began to be seriously
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uneasy lest I should get
the worst of it, but presently I could see them dropping out of line
two or three at a time and then all turned and got away as fast as
possible. I forbade pursuit as I apprehended the firing would bring
other forces to their aid, and I was too far away from my base to
get any help I rode up to where their line had been, and there
stretched out in death lay a fine looking young man wearing the
chevrons of a sergeant. His carbine--they were armed with Burnsides,
a better gun than mine--lay by his side and his saber was still
belted to him. This was the first man killed in open fight, while
the armies lay opposing each other at Cairo and Columbus, and,
indeed, this was the first fight between opposing forces of the two
armies. I left him where he lay, giving his body in charge of the
citizen whose house was near. His saber I gave to my friend Watson
and the carbine to Ross. My own loss was five horses killed and one
man wounded in the right arm, which had to be amputated. His name
was Smith, and I fear he is now dead, since within the last year I
have heard nothing from him, and prior to that time he often wrote
me, and I always replied to his letters from Louisville, Kentucky,
where he has lived since the war. I sent couriers forward at once to
announce my successful fight to Colonel Tappan, while I followed
more slowly with my wounded man and dismounted men.
We
got back to camp late at night tired and hungry, but proud of the
fact that at last we had met the enemy face to face and came off
victorious. The whole camp was up to see us come in; the news of our
fight had been sent over the river and telegraphed to Memphis, and
for some days the squad who had participated in the skirmish were
the heroes of the hour. After this I made many scouts to the same
place with the squadron but did not again meet the enemy. In a few
weeks I
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got a leave of absence for a week and
hastened home, and, to my regret at the time, the reconnoissance in
force was made by General Grant, which resulted in the battle of
Belmont, while I was absent. I hastened back, to find the whole
command brought back from Belmont and all concentrated at Columbus.
Soon after this the army went into winter quarters, and my company
was retained in camp at Columbus, while Colonel Miller was kept
outside, north of the town, guarding the roads leading north, or
most of them, while I had one special road to picket, along with
such other duties as from time to were required of me. There were
numerous false alarms during the winter, and one which brought
several thousand Mississippi state troops, under the command of
General Alcorn, when it was supposed the enemy intended to attack
Columbus from Paducah, but after a few weeks these were sent back,
and everything became quiet again. Just after the battle of Belmont
I became aware of the fact that the men had become very much
dissatisfied with Orderly Sergeant S. H. Starke, and he himself
desiring to give up the place, I decided to appoint some one in his
place.
Sergeant Starke was a son of the Hon. Peter B.
Starke, of Bolivar county, a prominent citizen, and afterwards
colonel of the Twenty-eighth Mississippi Cavalry, with whose
regiment we were at a later date brigaded, and of whom I may have
much to say. The office of orderly sergeant is the most important in
a company, except that of captain, or the commanding officer of the
company, and I was greatly troubled to think whom to appoint. While
sitting at the door of my tent, just before the hour of evening
parade, and considering the matter, I happened to look at a young
man sitting some distance away by himself and seeming to be in a
deep study. His name was Gadi Herrin, and he was a native of Attala
county;
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had been teaching school in Bolivar, and had
just become of age and received a license to practice law about the
time we had organized the company. I knew he was a very ambitious
boy, and at once, on the impulse of the moment, I called him to me
and told him I had determined to appoint him orderly sergeant. He
told me afterwards he had been sitting wishing for the place, but
without hope or expectation of getting it.
He did not
disappoint my expectations, and his gallant services and death will
later on be told.
While recalling the incidents of my
stay in Columbus that winter I ought not to pass by one old
acquaintance, who came across the continent from California to cast
in his lot with the people of his native state, Mississippi, in
their struggle for independence. His name was Ned Saunders. I had
not seen him for ten years, when unexpectedly I came across him one
day at General Cheatham's quarters.
His father had been
a leading criminal lawyer in Natchez, and was a pronounced
secessionist in 1851, and after the triumph of the union sentiment
in the campaign of that year, declared he would leave and did leave
the state, going to California. My friend, Ned Saunders, had soon
after becoming of age formed the acquaintance of General Walker, the
celebrated filibuster, who undertook to conquer Nicaraugua, and had
accompanied him to that country and been raised to the command of
major-general in Walker's army. While Walker was, or claimed to be,
the president of that country, Saunders was married, Walker
performing the ceremony. In some way, when Walker's army was
overthrown, Saunders escaped, and thus did not share the fate which
befell Walker, who, after holding his own for nearly two years, was
driven out of the country, but was afterwards taken and shot. Ned
Saunders wanted to raise an independent company
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of
scouts, which he afterwards succeeded in doing, and I believe did
good service, though he was seldom with my command. With him came a
brother, a frail and delicate man, Louis Saunders, and both remained
in the confederate service till the close of the war.
I
do not remember, while in winter quarters at Columbus, ever being
ordered to take my company across the river to my old scouting
ground but once, and this was upon an inglorious service, but I
could not disobey. Some negroes, four or five in number, had escaped
from the army and crossed the river. I was ordered to take my
company and try and recapture them. I had little difficulty in doing
this, as I knew the country thoroughly, and knew just where to send
men to head the poor creatures off. I confess I felt very much
ashamed of the work, and could not but be sorry for the poor fellows
when they were brought to me.
Just before the army
evacuated Columbus, and when, so far as I knew, there was no thought
of its doing so, under a special detail from General Polk, I went to
Jefferson and Franklin counties to aid in the formation of
companies, and indeed to hurry up their formation. While so engaged
I learned the army had left Columbus, and all our forces in this
department were being rapidly concentrated at Corinth under that man
of high hopes and great promise to the confederacy, General Albert
Sidney Johnston. This splendid soldier I had met several times in
Columbus, and felt that he was a man formed to command. How soon our
hopes were cut short in his glorious death, in the moment of victory
at Shiloh, history has recorded. I hastened to rejoin my command as
rapidly as possible, but was too late for the battle of Shiloh. My
company was engaged under the command of Lieutenant Jones, who
received a severe flesh wound in
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the arm, but he was
the only man wounded in the company and so far as I now remember, in
the regiment, for just a few days before that battle enough
companies had been added to form a regiment. This regiment was
commanded in the battle by Colonel Lindsay, an old army officer
with, I believe, the rank of captain, who had been on duty for many
years on the frontier. When I got back to the command I found him
still commanding the regiment, but Colonel Miller and Major Herndon
were not with it. These gentlemen, and justly I think, were offended
at his being appointed to supersede them, and soon after the battle,
for they would not do so sooner, tendered their resignations, which,
however, were not accepted, though they were relieved from duty for
a time. This left me the second in command as senior captain, and as
in duty bound I hastened to report myself to Colonel Lindsay for
duty. He was a southern man, but I do not remember from what state,
and I found him to be a very reticent, but agreeable, gentleman. He
was, according to my impression of him, some forty-five or may be
fifty years old. His whole life had been passed on the frontier and
mostly in forts, and, while I do not doubt he was a gallant man and
a competent officer, he seemed to have no energy, and devolved on me
very largely the duties be ought to have performed. His chief
pleasure and only occupation, so far as I know, was in playing
solitaire, for I never went to his tent that I did not find him
engaged in this game, for the few weeks we were together. What
became of him after he left the regiment I am not certain, but think
he went to the western department. While with him the regiment was
on the left of the army while it remained in Corinth. Nothing of any
special interest occurred, save one day a company under the command
of Lieutenant Beasely, of Noxubee county,
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was
attacked on picket and driven in. Colonel Lindsay ordered me to take
the regiment and re-establish the line. His men reported that the
lieutenant had been killed. I re-established the line, but the enemy
had already gone, and, as we could not find the lieutenant's body, I
supposed he had been wounded and taken prisoner.
The
place where the picket was stationed was very hilly and wooded, and
the next day some of the men on picket found him down a hill some
distance from where he had fallen, still living, but unconscious. A
bullet had hit him fair in the center of his forehead, but he had
evidently walked to where he was found, for he had unbuckled his
saber, which with his pistol was lying by his side. He lived some
hours, but died a soldier's death. He left a son, a gallant boy,
afterwards adjutant of the regiment, and destined to meet his
father's fate on the battle field.
The army under
General Bragg fell back to Tupelo, and there the regiment enlisted
for the war, and was reorganized, and an election held for all
company and regimental officers, and here Colonel Lindsay, after
having superintended this election, took his leave of us.
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CHAPTER IX.
Reorganization of regiment--Report to
General Villipigue--Ordered to Senatobia, Jeff. Thompson again--His
Indian army--Mrs. M. C. Galloway, of Memphis--Ordered to Bolivar
county--Captain Herrin reports to me--Fights with General Hovey in
Coahoma county--Congressman Hal. Chambers--His duel with Mr.
Lake--Fight at Drisdoll's gin--Rejoin regiment.
From the
reorganization of the regiment at a camp near Tupelo in May, 1862,
commenced its real history as the First Mississippi Cavalry
Regiment. Both Lieutenant-Colonel Miller and Major Herndon were
present, but neither were candidates for any position. Major Herndon
went into the service of the government in a civil capacity, and
Colonel Miller returned to his home near Pontotoc. He left with the
esteem of all the men and officers, but he did not live many months
to enjoy the honor which he had gained by his year of arduous
service. While living quietly at home a few months later he was
taken prisoner by the federals, and while being carried away by them
he made a daring attempt to escape. They were at the time passing
through a broken and wooded country, between Pontotoc and Ripley,
Mississippi, and, riding along by the side of the officer in
command, he suddenly wheeled his horse and dashed down a steep hill
and was fired on and killed.
I wish I could remember the
names of all the officers elected at the election, the last ever
held, for after this as vacancies occurred they were filled by
promotion, and when necessary by appointments from the ranks, and I
wish I had the names of all the gallant men who filled
Page 75
the ranks at that time and who fought so bravely through
the war, though very many were to give their lives to the cause they
all held sacred. Where they fell their bodies lie scattered in many
places over the soil they loved and defended, for this is the
soldier's fate.
Captain R. A. Pinson was elected
colonel; Captain F. A. Montgomery, lieutenant-colonel;
Captain--Wheeler, major; Lucian M. Sykes, adjutant; William Beasley,
sergeant-major; Captain T. B. Dillard, quartermaster; Captain Robert
Ligon, commissary; Dr. C. L. Montgomery, surgeon; Dr. A. C. Ferrel,
assistant. The captains of companies were J. R. Taylor, of Panola,
J. L. Simmons, of Carrol,--Beall, of Noxubee, --King, of Noxubee,
Charles Marshall, of Tallahatchie, --Turner, of Pontotoc, W. V.
Lester, of Tallahatchie, Gadi Herrin, of Bolivar,--Wheeler, a
brother of the major, of Calhoun, and J. R. Chandler, of Lafayette.
I do not remember the names of all the lieutenants,
though some I will recall in appropriate places, except those in my
old company, the Bolivar troop. These were J. M. Montgomery, first,
Will Mason Worthington, second, and William Bridges, second, as in
those days there were two second lieutenants in each company. I went
to headquarters with a list of the officers elected, and they were
all approved. In a few days Colonel Pinson was ordered to report
with his regiment to General Villipigue, whose headquarters were
then at Abbeville, Mississippi, and almost immediately on our
arrival at that place I received a written order from the general to
take four companies of the regiment and proceed to Senatobia and
there "co-operate with Brigadier-General M. Jeff Thompson of the M.
S. G.," to be plain, as I knew it to mean, Missouri State Guards. I
was very much puzzled over the order, as I had heard nothing of
General Thompson since I had left Columbus, and if I
Page 76
had ever thought of him at all supposed him still in the Woods of
Missouri.
However, my business was to obey orders, and
find out afterwards what it all meant. I knew, of course, he was not
to command me, but what he was doing, or what force he had, or how I
was to co-operate with him, I could not conceive. I marched across
to the Mississippi and Tennessee railroad, as it was then called,
and which was still open from Grenada to Senatobia and used as
occasion required, striking the road at Batesville. Here I heard
much of General Thompson, who was said to be at or north of
Senatobia with a force of Indians and other men. I got to Senatobia
late one afternoon and inquired for General Thompson, but no one
seemed to know much about him or where he and his men were, so I
went into camp. The next morning he rode into camp about ten
o'clock, and had with him one Indian. He said that knowing I was
coming he had gone up the road to picket for me that night, and in
fact he had ridden up the road five or six miles and spent the night
with some planter, quietly and comfortably. This was all the force
he had on this side of the river, or ever did have, whatever he may
have had on the other side. I established a camp two miles north of
town, at a creek called Hickahaly, I believe, and at once sent
scouts up the road and put out pickets, and then sent a courier to
General Villipigue, announcing my arrival and requesting him to be
more explicit in his instructions. He merely reiterated his first
order to co-operate with General Thompson. I found upon inquiry that
the general was acting as a sort of aid or adjutant of General
Villipigue, and had power to give passes into Memphis, or to those
coming out of Memphis, if they could pass my lines. I remained at
this camp some weeks "co-operating" with General Thompson, and
during this time saw much of him and grew to like him
Page 77
very much. He was a peculiar man, of marked eccentricity, but
educated and a gentleman. He was ambitious to hold a commission in
the confederate army, but this, was never, I believe, gratified. I
never saw him after I left Senatobia or heard of him in the army,
but learned after the war he was in New Orleans in business, and
where I hope he prospered better than he did during the war. During
this time I saw refugees from Memphis every day, and once I recall
Mrs. Galloway, the wife of the brilliant editor of the Appeal, who
was then at Grenada, to which place she was going. I would not have
remembered this, but some ten years after the war, looking over some
letters which I had written my wife, and which she had preserved, I
found I had written her of this meeting, and of how angry Mrs.
Galloway was, for she had been literally forced to leave. When I
found the letters I was engaged in writing a memoir of the war, and
they helped me much. Unfortunately this memoir and nearly all these
letters were destroyed by fire in the burning of my office. From
some remaining I may hereafter quote. After this I told the Colonel
and Mrs. Galloway, the first time I met them, of my find, and she
was very much amused at the recollection of her banishment from her
home. One day I received from General Villipigue an order to send a
sergeant and ten men to Bolivar county to investigate certain
charges which had been made to him against Mr. Miles H. McGehee, the
wealthy planter I have mentioned as having defeated General Clark
for the convention.
These charges were, that Mr. McGehee
was selling cotton to the federals, for they already had possession
of the river to Vicksburg, and also in discouraging enlistments in
the army. My own company from Bolivar was not with me, but with
Colonel Pinson, and I disliked to send a stranger of that rank, to
make such an investigation
Page 78
about a man of Mr.
McGehee's prominence, especially as I knew he had enemies, who would
only be too glad to do what they could to annoy him. I told General
Thompson my fears and that I would like to make the investigation
myself, besides I wanted a chance to see my family, whom I had not
seen for months. He very promptly said he would give me the order,
but I doubted his authority to do so, and requested him to go and
see General Villipigue, and explain the matter to him, which he at
once did and brought me back an order to take the squad myself. I
lost no time, and in a few days got to. the town of Concordia, where
I left the squad in good quarters, with orders to wait till they had
heard from me. They did not know for what purpose we had come. I
hurried on home the same day but found when I got there that my wife
had become alarmed at living on the river and refugeed to a place
ten miles back. It was dark, but I went on and reached them before
bed time. I spent the next day with them, and then sent an order to
the sergeant to take his men to Mr. McGehee's place and wait for me
there. The squad had been there two hours when I got there, and Mr.
McGehee was very uneasy. He had about two negroes to each man
waiting on him, and the men were in clover.
He had
already sent for some of his neighbors, and they soon came. I told
him at once what charges there were against him, but these were
disproved by his neighbors, who were known to me to be reputable
citizens, as well as by his own statements which would have been
sufficient for me, and I at once wrote out a statement exonerating
him from the charges, and sent it by courier to General Villipigue.
Mr. McGehee had, however, several hundred bales of cotton hid out in
the cane, as he frankly admitted to me, and this I told him I must
have burned as the orders were that all cotton must be burned,
except
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what was necessary for spinning and weaving,
for already spinning wheels and looms were being set up everywhere.
But of these makeshifts, with other devices to supply the
necessaries of life in this part of the confederacy, I will try to
find occasion to speak hereafter. I left Mr. McGehee some twenty or
thirty bales of cotton which he aid he needed, but directed the
sergeant to burn all the rest of his cotton, and gave the men all
permission when this duty was performed, to go by way of their
homes, on the way back to camp. I have just remembered as I write
this, that one of that squad was James Townes, now one of the
wealthiest planters in the Delta, now living in Tallahatchie county,
near Minter City. He was one of the most daring and gallant soldiers
of the regiment, and well deserves the success he has met in life. I
proposed to stay two or three days with my family and then return,
but just as I was ready to go, to my surprise, Captain Herrin with
his company reported to me. He had been ordered to report to me at
Senatobia and got there a few days after I had left, and General
Thompson kindly gave him an order to follow and report to me in
Bolivar.
The men were wild to get a chance to come home,
and Herrin did not stop to question General Thompson's authority,
which I suppose he made all right with General Villipigue, as I
never heard anything about it afterwards. I gave the company
permission to disband a day or two and visit their homes, and then
started with them back to the army. Upon reaching Coahoma county I
camped the first night on a plantation owned by a gentleman named,
or rather called, General Grant, at about where the Robinsonville
landing now is. I don't know how the gentleman got his title, he was
not related to the great man who was now fast coming to the front as
the most conspicuous figure in the war on
Page 80
the
federal side. This gentleman had a son, a mere boy at the time, who
had joined the Bolivar troop, Captain Herrin's company, and who
because he was so young became the pet of the company, with which he
served throughout the war. After the war he became, and at this
writing still is, a prominent physician, living at Terry, in the
state he helped to defend. I learned at this camp that a federal
force of several thousands under General, afterwards governor, Hovey
of Illinois was in camp on the McMahon place, about ten miles north
of me, and that he had gone regularly into the cotton business,
sending out his teams and gathering up cotton, of which there was a
good deal in that neighborhood. If I am not mistaken there was some
scandal about this when General Hovey was a candidate for governor,
and I was strongly tempted to write to him at the time and recall
myself and the operations of my command in trying to prevent his
getting cotton to his memory, but I did not do it.
I
determined at all events to stop him if I could, and though my force
was much inferior to his I hoped from my acquaintance with the
country to do a great deal in preventing him from getting cotton. I
found that he was taking cotton from a place some distance from his
camp, the McNeil place and neighborhood, and I moved at once to a
place where I hoped to intercept him on his return to his camp,
choosing a point in the cane not far from his camp on the road he
was using. I got my position all right, and was snugly concealed in
fifty yards of the road, and could plainly hear the noise of his men
and wagons on the road, but I could not tell where they were. Just
then I saw Father McMahon, as he was called, on whose place the
enemy were encamped, riding along the road, and sending out had him
brought to me. His first words were, "There are thousands of
Page 81
enemies within a mile of you," but I learned from him
they had all passed my ambuscade, and with a caution to him to say
nothing of having seen us I withdrew. There was a gin house not far
from me on a plantation, whose owner's name I have forgotten, but it
adjoined one owned then by General Forrest, and this gin house was
full of cotton, ginned and unginned, and with a good deal bailed up.
From this place there was another road, leading directly to General
Hovey's quarters, and I at once went there to destroy the cotton.
The gin house was situated very near the woods, and I sent pickets
at once up the road and had commenced to have the cotton moved, as I
did not wish to burn the house. But almost immediately my pickets
began to fire, and were driven in by a force I knew to be larger
than mine, and who had besides the advantage of the shelter of the
woods within easy range, while in the rear for two miles was an open
field to the houses on General Forrest's place, but the gin house
and cotton gave us some shelter, and I determined not to let them
have the cotton without a fight for it.
In the fight
which ensued I had several men wounded, but not severely; what the
enemy's loss was, if any, I never learned, but in the fight the gin
house took fire and burned to the ground with all the cotton in and
around it. I then fell slowly back to General Forrest's place, the
enemy pursuing about half way and keeping up a running fight. On the
Forrest place there was a good deal of cotton, but there was a
manager and some negroes on the place, and I had all the cotton
moved out of the gin and houses and burned. Here, on the next
morning after this skirmish, I was visited by Hal. Chambers, the
member of the confederate congress from the district, who owned a
plantation near by, and who had heard the firing of the day before.
This gentleman had been elected
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in the fall of 1861,
his opponent at first being Mr.-- Lake, a prominent Whig lawyer and
citizen of Vicksburg. In the canvass at old Greenville, in
Washington county, I think it was, a difficulty occurred and a blow
was given, and then a challenge. They met at Memphis to arrange for
the fight, and Colonel M. C. Galloway was Chambers' second, and from
him I learned after the war the details of the duel. I do not recall
the name of Mr. Lake's second, but he with Colonel Galloway
endeavored, as was their duty under the much abused code, to
accommodate the difficulty, but without success. The parties met in
Arkansas just across the river. Chambers and his second were first
on the ground, and Colonel Galloway told Chambers that the etiquette
of the occasion required him to salute his antagonist politely when
he arrived, and this he did, but Mr. Lake passed him with a haughty
stare without returning the salute. They fought with what were then
known as Mississippi rifles (because it was the gun used by Colonel
Davis' regiment in the battle of Buena Vista) at forty paces. Three
shots were fired without result, and after each shot the seconds
tried to stop it, but without success. At the fourth fire Mr. Lake
was shot dead. He was a noble specimen of manhood, and his death was
much regretted, but Chambers was never blamed, and though some one
took Mr. Lake's place in the canvass, he was elected by a handsome
majority. My next encounter with Hovey's force was at Drisdoll's
gin, almost at his camp. The gin was situated in a field which I was
told went up to his camp, but the field was a cornfield, then in
roasting ear, and afforded a complete screen from view. The
federals, I learned, had taken possession of the gin, and were
ginning and bailing cotton on it. I had been joined by about fifty
citizens, mostly from Bolivar county, armed with shotguns, and I
determined to try and surprise the guard at the gin. Going
Page
83
by paths through the woods, I got to the field without the
federals being any the wiser, and sent Captain Herrin in with his
company to make the attack, while I remained with the citizen force,
who were without organization. He made it successfully, returning
after a sharp skirmish with five prisoners, two of them wounded. One
of his men threw fire into the lint room, but by mischance it did
not burn. The place was too near the main camp of the enemy to
remain, and I fell back some five or six miles. I could not afford
to be encumbered with prisoners, and paroled them, and sent them
under a flag of truce to General Hovey, who expressed his sense of
the courtesy, and later, as I heard, sent me by a citizen a box of
Catawba wine which I never got. There being no more cotton in that
neighborhood which General Hovey could get, I moved my camp to where
now stands the town of Clarksdale, camping on west side of Sunflower
river. Here I learned that Colonel Pinson, with the regiment, was in
the county, and I soon joined him, and the regiment then left the
Delta, burning cotton as it went, for the gathering up of cotton had
become a great industry on the part of the federals, and well it
might, for it was then very valuable.
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CHAPTER X.
Brigaded with Colonel W. H. Jackson, Tennessee
cavalry--Brigadier General Frank C. Armstrong--Raid into
Tennessee--Fight near Bolivar--Death of Lieutenant-Colonel Hogg, of
Federal cavalry, his gallant charge-- Attack Medon, repulsed--Battle
of Denmark or Brittain's Lane--Severe loss--Captain Beall's
presentiment and death--Gallant charge of Colonel Wirt Adams--His
unfortunate fate after the war--Back in Mississippi--Move towards
Corinth--Rout Federal Cavalry at Hatchie river--Colonel Pinson
wounded--General Van Dorn's advance on Corinth--Battle of
Corinth--Raid around Corinth--Narrow escape--Van Dorn's retreat--In
the rear--Back to Ripley.
Our regiment was now brigaded
with Colonel W. H. Jackson's Tennessee cavalry regiment and was
either the same brigade or the same division with this gallant
regiment till near the close of the war, and was under the command
of colonel, soon promoted to be brigadier general, Jackson, till the
reorganization of all the cavalry in this department, at Columbus,
Mississippi, just before the fall of Selma. We now joined him not
far from Holly Springs, and there was soon concentrated the largest
force of cavalry I had yet seen together. In addition to Jackson's
and Pinson's regiments there was Colonel Wirt Adams' regiment and
one or two more. General Frank C. Armstrong, who had been a short
time before made a brigadier general in the army, arrived and took
the command, and proceeded to cut the railroad, the Mobile and Ohio,
upon which the federal army at Corinth depended for its supplies. We
crossed the Memphis and Charleston, at or near the Grand Junction
and moved toward the town of Bolivar, but were met by a strong force
from
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that place, almost in sight of it, and a severe
skirmish ensued, with some loss on our side and considerable to the
federals. A gallant charge was made on our line by a cavalry
regiment commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Hogg, who was killed in the
charge as he passed through our line in his impetuous onslaught.
After the federals had retired, one of the men informed me that a
hog was trying to mutilate his face, and I had his body picked up
and put on a fence, as I knew it would soon be recovered by his
friends. We learned his name from some prisoners, and he was a
gallant man, and died no doubt, in what was to him a righteous
cause. This affair I suppose satisfied General Armstrong that it
would be impracticable to attempt anything against the Mobile and
Ohio road, if indeed the project had ever been seriously
entertained, and we turned our attention to the road between Bolivar
and Jackson. This road we cut in many places, but seeing no enemy
except some trestle guards who were captured with little difficulty,
until we got to a station not far from Jackson, called I think,
after looking over the map, Medon. This place was pretty strongly
garrisoned, but after some skirmishing the enemy retired to the
depot which they hastily fortified, as they were determined to make
a brave resistance. Late in the afternoon, Colonel Jackson sent for
me and ordered me to take five companies of the regiment and charge
the depot on horseback. To go to go down the principal and almost
the only street would, I knew, expose the men to certain slaughter,
and to an inevitable repulse, as we would be exposed to an unseen
enemy for at least two hundred yards, without shelter and unable to
fire a shot. I therefore suggested to him before making the attack,
that I should reconnoiter the ground and see if I could not find a
better place from which to make the assault, to which he agreed.
Leaving the command and screened by some houses, I got to within
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fifty or seventy-five yards of the depot, and from here
I determined to make the attack. While looking at the depot, I
observed several hundred men approaching it from the direction of
Jackson, my first thought being they were a part of our force about
to attack from that direction, but I was soon undeceived, for before
I could get back to the line the cheers of the force in the depot,
as well as those advancing, gave notice of reinforcements, which
compelled us to retire. It was now dusk and we retired to the first
creek we could find, and there bivouacked for the night. Early next
morning we started on our return to camp in Mississippi, having
accomplished all we could by our raid, and took a road leading
towards a place or town called Denmark. The whole command was worn
out, and decidedly hungry, since we had been out nearly a week, and
away from our wagon trains, and all were glad to get back. No one
expected any further fighting, and all anticipated a quiet though
fatiguing march to camp. While marching along, it so happened I was
riding by the side of Captain Beall, and I observed he was unusually
quiet. He was always the life of the camp, a genial, jovial
gentleman. At last he told me he was impressed by a presentiment he
would be killed before we got back to Mississippi. I laughed at him
and told him his presentiment would come to nothing, and that he
himself would laugh at it on the morrow, that there would be no more
fighting on this raid, but even as we were talking, firing was heard
a mile in front, and we were ordered forward at a gallop. Colonel
Jackson's regiment had, I think, been the first in the column of
march, Pinson's second and Wirt Adams third. At a place called
Brittain's Lane, and not far from Denmark, a force from Jackson, two
regiments of infantry, a section of artillery, and a squadron of
cavalry had advantageously posted themselves across our line of
march.
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The first regiment charged them
at once and dispersed their cavalry which made off in the direction
of Jackson and was not again seen in the fight, but the infantry
were too many and too strongly posted, and stood their ground. Our
regiment came up on the run, and were ordered to dismount and charge
on foot, and were gallantly led by Pinson straight to the enemy. It
was intensely hot, and the men suffered much, but there was no
faltering. It was the first baptism of fire which most of them had
ever received, and they gave promise then of that courage which they
were afterwards to display on many a battle field. The ground was
broken and full of gullies, but we got over in short order, and
drove the enemy from their first position. As we charged on foot,
Colonel Wirt Adams charged in column along the road straight at the
enemy's guns, which were on a hill in the road. The guns were taken
and carried to the rear, but his regiment was compelled to retire
from the withering fire of the enemy, who had taken a new and strong
position on a ridge the woods, but little in the rear of their first
one, which for the time was held by the First Mississippi. Colonel
Adams' charge was a brilliant one, and as I write I can see him as I
saw him then, charging at the head of his regiment straight at the
guns; we were not one hundred feet apart. Splendid gentleman,
chivalric soldier, how sad a fate was his, to be killed in a street
duel by a young man he ought never to have noticed, and who, fast
rising to distinction as the editor of a paper, used it as some of
his class do, to personally attack the character of better men to
their own shame and disgrace, and to the reproach of the noblest and
most useful of all occupations of modern times. He also was killed
in the duel. When we got to the enemy's line, or near to it, before
they gave way, I was near enough to use my revolver (I had two fine
Tranters given me by my friend,
Page 88
Judge Burrus of
Bolivar county), but when we were first ordered forward I had drawn
my saber, and forgot, when I sprang from my horse, to take them out
of the holsters, where up to that time I had always carried them. I
never made the same mistake again, for I discarded holsters and
always carried one pistol in a scabbard at my belt. The loss of the
whole command was considerable in this affair, but especially so in
the First Mississippi, for we had fifty men killed and wounded.
Among the killed was the gallant Captain Beall, whose presentiment
was realized, the first and only one I have ever known, though I
have read and heard of many. By my side was killed Lieutenant
Mathews, of Captain Marshall's company as he was cheering his men to
the fight. Hearing his voice I turned to look at him just in time to
see him fall. Captain Chandler was severely wounded, and afterwards
was made a surgeon, and his company was commanded by his first
lieutenant, promoted to be captain, Berry. Other names I do not now
recall. Captain Marshall I had not noticed in the fight, but when
the firing had ceased, after the enemy fell back, he came to me and
said he was too much exhausted to remain longer on the field, and
requested permission to retire to the horses, which I readily gave
him, for I was nearly broken down myself. While Colonel Pinson and
myself were consulting as to the advisability of renewing the
assault on the enemy by a flank movement, which could easily have
been done, as we believed, we were ordered back to the horses.
To my surprise then and now, the attack was not renewed, for
I am sure they were defeated, but we left them in possession of the
field, and by a circuitous route got into the road again some miles
from the field of the battle, which has been known as the battle of
Denmark or sometimes Brittain's Lane. We got back to camp without
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further trouble, the only incident I recall being
Colonel Adams sharing with me a cantaloupe which by some means he
had got hold of the day after the fight and which was very
acceptable as well as palatable, for we were all getting anxious for
our rations.
When we got back to our wagon trains in
Mississippi, in a few days General Armstrong left us, for it was
said that his assumption of the command as brigadier-general was
premature, it being some months after this, and after Colonel
Jackson had been promoted, that he received his commission. All of
the cavalry also was ordered to other places, except Jackson's and
Pinson's regiment which remained together under the command of
Colonel Jackson as senior colonel.
About the middle of
September our brigade began to move in the direction of Corinth,
going by way of Ripley, Mississippi, and there turning north till we
had reached the main road to Corinth, which ran parallel with the
railroad, and then going directly east on this road, intending to
cross the Hatchie river near where the railroad crossed it. Late in
an afternoon, the sun was just setting, we reached an old village,
Pocahontas, I think it was called, on a high hill from which the
road sloped gradually to the river, perhaps half a mile away.
The village seemed almost entirely abandoned, but we caught
a federal cavalry-man, and from him learned that a regiment of
federal cavalry had just gone into camp on the other side of the
river, that he had succeeded in passing the guard and was out on a
private scouting expedition. I knew the ground of their camp well,
for we had occupied it for some days while the army was still at
Corinth, and there was a certain big beech tree under which I had
had my quarters, and was looking forward to as a place of rest that
night. Colonel Pinson notified Colonel Jackson, who was with his
regiment a short
Page 90
distance in the rear, and his reply
was to charge them. He at once ordered the regiment to form column
of fours and to charge, leading the way himself at full speed. The
country was perfectly open on both sides of the road from the place
where we left the village to the river, and the bottom on the other
side of the river was heavily wooded About two hundred yards from
the bridge was a two-story dwelling-house, and I had known the name
of the family living there, but now to my great regret, have
forgotten it. There had been no confederates in the neighborhood for
a long time, but frequent federal scouts, and the occupants were at
first uncertain who we were, but when they knew, just as I passed
the gate, three ladies came running from the house, crying: "Oh, I
am so glad to see you, but don't cross the river, the woods are full
of Yankees!" It was dusk as we reached the bridge, or nearly so, a
miserable concern, that only two men could cross on abreast, but
over we went, the enemy firing wildly, and evidently panic stricken.
The bridge could have been defended against our horseback charge by
a dozen resolute men, but as we learned aftewards, all the officers
had gone over to this dwelling-house to get supper, and were in it
when we passed, at least many of them, including the commanding
officer. These all escaped but one major, who was with the men, who
told me next day he was under arrest for overstaying a leave of
absence. We captured fifty prisoners and over two hundred horses,
and would have no doubt got more but they escaped in the darkness.
The only man wounded in the regiment was the gallant Pinson, who was
severely wounded and did not recover for some months. Riding up in
the gloom to a squad of men he saw, thinking they were some of his
own men, but finding them to be federals, he ordered them to
surrender, and some one of them fired on him. Colonel Jackson
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determined to get away at once with the prisoners, and
we marched nearly all night in the direction of Ripley, and next
evening got safely away to that place. Colonel Pinson was sent home
under the care of a surgeon.
We remained some days at
Ripley and in the vicinity, until the head of the column of the army
under General Van Dorn marching to the attack on Corinth had reached
that place, when Colonel Jackson moved with the cavalry in the
advance. We soon reached the Hatchie river, where we had so
completely routed the enemy a short time before, and moved directly
towards Corinth. We had gone only a few miles when we met a cavalry
force, my regiment being in advance, and Colonel Jackson ordered a
charge, an order that it seemed to me he was getting very fond of
giving, and I must say he kept up those sort of orders for some
years after. This time the enemy did not stand to fight, but we kept
up a running fight with them for two or three miles, without any
loss on either side so far as I know. General Van Dorn's army
consisted as I remember of General Price's division and two splendid
brigades under Generals Villipigue and Bowen, with sufficient
artillery, but I remember no cavalry except Colonel Jackson's
brigade. The cavalry took no active part in the assault on the town,
though we were close in support of General Price when he gained the
position at the depot. It is not my purpose or a part of my plan to
describe this battle, or any other in which my regiment was engaged
during the war. No one man who takes a part in a battle can do this.
Only the commander-in-chief in a fight can do it, and this not
because he sees it all, but because he knows the position of the
various troops taking part in it and receives constant reports of
what is going on. I can only tell what I actually saw myself and
what part I
Page 92
or the command with me actually took in
a battle or fight.
The army held the position it got and
at night bivouacked on the field, and early the next morning, the
5th of October, the fight recommenced with renewed fury. About noon
Colonel Jackson was ordered to go round Corinth to the Iuka road,
which was on the directly opposite side to that upon which the
attack had been made, it being, I think, either to make a
demonstration on that side or because, as was reported, that the
enemy were preparing to retreat in that direction. Whatever was the
reason, he went with his whole brigade, and we circled round the
town, passing many deserted picket posts and not seeing an enemy.
Meantime the roar of guns and small arms was incessant, until we
reached a road running east, which I suppose was the Iuka road.
Here suddenly all firing between the armies ceased, not a
shot was heard, and the silence after such a furious battle was
almost oppressive. We could come to but one conclusion, and that was
that the enemy had surrendered, for we could get no information at
all.
Colonel Jackson at once marched back over the route
we had come, till we came to a road leading directly from the south
into Corinth, and here he turned into this road and marched straight
for the town, from which we were not more than a mile away, and had
not been at any time in this movement around the town, though it was
never visible because of intervening woods. Where we turned into
this road it entered a valley some two or three hundred yards wide,
and in which all the timber had been felled as far as the eye could
see on either side, making it wholy impassable except along the
narrow road we were traversing.
Passing though this
narrow valley, we came out on a
Page 93
beautiful wooded
plateau invisible before, and upon which there were hundreds of
tents as it seemed to me. One solitary soldier was found in them,
and no others were visible in any direction. It was still as silent
as the grave. Moving on, a squadron of my regiment being in advance
under Captain Herrin, we suddenly came in full view of the enemy's
works on the south of Corinth with flags flying and bristling with
guns.
Not a shot was fired by us or the enemy, who were
perhaps not so much surprised as we were, for though we did not know
it our army had retired from the west side, and it was evident from
our cavalry demonstration that they anticipated we were about to
attack from the south, and this kept them quiet in their works.
Colonel Jackson ordered me to form my regiment, and this I did,
while he slowly and deliberately countermarched the balance of the
command. It was not till he had reached the narrow road in the
valley, and the head of his column was well in it, that I received
an order to follow, which I lost no time in doing. Nothing saved my
regiment from utter rout and annihilation, except the uncertainty of
the enemy as to what our demonstration meant, for there would have
been no chance to escape across this narrow valley, but I determined
if attacked to go directly east in hope of finding a way out.
However, we got back through the valley safely and without the enemy
ever having left their work. The whole thing occupied but a little
while, but it seemed hours to me while I waited in line an attack
which I could not have successfully resisted, and from which I saw
no means of escape. Colonel Jackson pursued his way until we reached
the road by which we had advanced on Corinth, and there found the
army in full retreat. Our brigade covered the retreat, but the enemy
were too much surprised, and, indeed, had been too badly cut up to
commence a vigorous pursuit.
Page 94
We were in more danger
from a force which came from Bolivar, and had occupied the position
at the Hatchie river, where we had crossed. This compelled us to
seek another crossing lower down the river after some severe
fighting at the old crossing, but at last the whole command, with
all our wagon trains, were safely on the west side of the river. In
this disastrous assault on Corinth, General Price's division
suffered most heavily. The enemy made a vigorous pursuit almost to
Ripley, and my regiment was kept continually in the rear without
wagons or rations. I remember one of my boys had succeeded in
getting at a farm house some cold sweet potatoes, and gave me one, a
large one. I was very hungry and I began on it in earnest as I rode
along, but the first thing I knew I was choking, and would have
choked then and there if I had not fortunately have had some water
in my canteen. It took me a long time to eat that potato, but I at
last got through with it. If any of my readers have never tried to
eat a cold sweet potato and see how hard it is to swallow it, I
recommend them to try it. In this retreat to Ripley, a dozen times
in a day I was ordered to halt and hold the position assigned me
till further orders, but always as the enemy advanced, and just as
the skirmishing became brisk, I would receive an order to retire to
another position, a little in rear.
Finally, within a
few miles of Ripley, the enemy ceased their pursuit and to my great
relief retired. I was then permitted to go to our wagon trains which
I found at Ripley, and for the first time in many days we all had a
much needed rest, and what was more to the purpose an abundance of
rations.
The army retired to Holly Springs; in fact by
the time I reached Ripley, was perhaps already there, and we soon
followed. General Van Dorn was a gallant soldier,
Page 95
but as the commander of the department was singularly unfortunate.
Within the short space of two months, he had assaulted Baton Rouge
and Corinth with disastrous results in both places, and lost
thousands of good men killed and wounded. But this good came from
these assaults: it made veterans of the soldiers, both men and
officers, and prepared them for the arduous services and the bloody
battles that were to come in the next three years.
Page 96
CHAPTER XI.
Army at Holly Springs--General
Pemberton--Fight with Grierson in Coldwater Bottom--Two nameless
heroes--Old Lamar, enemy advances--Evacuation of Holly
Springs--Report to General Pemberton at Jackson--General Gregg of
Texas--Trouble with General Jackson--Correspondence with General
Pemberton and secretary of war--Grenada, court martial--Charges
preferred by General Jackson-- Acquitted and ordered back to the
Regiment--President Davis reviews army at Grenada.
The
army lay at Holly Springs some weeks, and during that time General
Pemberton arrived and took command of the department, with
headquarters at Jackson. Colonel Jackson's regiment and my own went
into camp about ten miles northwest of Holly Springs, while Colonel
Jackson took up his quarters in that place, as a convenient place to
command the cavalry, there being other regiments and some artillery
at that time under his command, but not with our two regiments,
where I was the senior officer in command. It was about that time
and I believe before the army left Holly Springs, that Colonel
Jackson was promoted to be brigadier general. While at this camp
Colonel Jackson, for at the date of the order he had not been
promoted, sent me an order to take four companies of his regiment
and four of my own and go on a scout in the direction of Hernando,
and look out for a raid by the afterward celebrated Grierson, who
report said had left Memphis and was scouting in our direction.
Captain, afterwards Colonel, W. F. Taylor of Jackson's
regiment was the senior officer in command of the two squadrons of
that regiment, and Captain Wheeler the
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senior
captain of the Mississippi squadrons. Taking three or four days
cooked rations without wagons, I moved as rapidly as possible and
crossed the Coldwater river on a bridge not very far from Hernando,
with scouts out in every direction to see if I could hear of Colonel
Grierson. I could not locate him, and as I had been out about as
long as was contemplated, I recrossed the river at the same bridge
to return to camp. I had gone perhaps two miles from the bridge and
had gotten out of the bottom and into the hills, when Captain Jack
Bowles, who had formerly commanded the Lafayette county company, the
first year of the war, overtook me and reported that he had a small
force of scouts and had been skirmishing with Grierson on the other
side of the Coldwater, about five miles from the bridge at which I
had crossed, and that he was coming in that direction. I at once
countermarched and went to find him, which I did, much sooner than I
expected. The Coldwater bottom, where I re-entered it, was all woods
and we could see but little ways. We had proceeded but a short
distance and to within about half a mile of the bridge, when our
advance guard after firing a shot or two, came back in hot haste. I
had barely time to form, in fact my lines were not fully formed,
when I found that Grierson's whole regiment was impetuously
charging. My men after an ineffectual volley gave way for a time
with the loss of two killed in Wheeler's company, and several
wounded in the command. The confusion lasted only a short time for
the men were easily rallied, and in our turn we advanced. Colonel
Grierson finding, I suppose, a larger and better organized force
than he had expected, retired immediately, and before we could reach
the Coldwater, had crossed and torn up the bridge. I had no means of
repairing it, and besides could not have overtaken him, so after
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remaining on the ground that night and giving the two
brave fellows who had fallen, a soldier's burial in a soldier's
grave, I returned to camp. They fell in no great battle, but they
were heroes of the war, and deserve all the honors which have been
or can be paid to our heroic dead, most of whom sleep as do these in
unknown and forgotten graves, remembered perhaps in this instance
only by me, and even I have forgotten their names. They came from
the hills and valleys of Calhoun county, whence many other brave men
in the regiment and army had come, and many of these also gave their
lives to the sacred cause of southern rights. But what are names in
a military story! they die and are forgotten save in the rare cases
where transcendent genius has made them a part of great events in
the world's history; but the deeds of those brave but nameless men,
whose heroic constancy is the rock upon which great names are built,
never die; they live ever the guiding star of future generations, to
incite them to like heroic deeds.
Shortly after this
little affair in the Coldwater bottom, Colonel Jackson came out to
the two regiments, and after a full inquiry into it in the presence
of all the officers of both regiments, not only acquitted me of all
blame, but praised my conduct of the affair. I would not mention
this, but there is a sequel to it. We were now moved nearer to Holly
Springs, and to one of the roads leading directly north from that
place, for it was now known that General Grant was concentrating a
large force at Grand Junction, where he had two railroads to supply
him, one going north and the other to Memphis, and was preparing to
invade the state from that base of supplies. Here we found Colonel
Slemmons' Arkansas cavalry regiment and a battery of artillery
attached to Jackson's command. The enemy having commenced their
advance as was evident, Colonel, or as I will hereafter name him,
General
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Jackson, as he was then or very shortly
afterwards promoted, sent an order to Colonel Slemmons to move the
command towards old Lamar, an old village which had been built
before the railroad, but afterwards abandoned for a newer place
directly on the road, of the same name, I believe. Colonel Slemmons
sent the order to me, as he was sick or feeling too unwell to take
the command out, and as I was the officer next in rank, I took the
command and moved out.
Parallel to the road I was
traversing was another road also leading to Holly Springs, the two
coming together some mile and a half from old Lamar, as I now
remember, and it was plain from a great cloud of dust to be seen on
the other road, or rather rising high above the trees which hid the
road, that a large body of troops was on that road. I was under the
impression that this probably was at least a cavalry force moving
from Holly Springs on that road. When I arrived at the place where
my road turned almost at right angles towards the other road, I
halted awhile and sent forward a squadron, under Captain King, one
of the most careful officers I had, with directions to keep out
flankers and go as far as he safely could, and after had gotten
perhaps a mile in advance, moved forward with the command. The road
was now a lane between two open fields, with fences on each side,
and very much cut up by gullies. I advanced slowly for nearly a
mile, when I saw Captain King coming back. I at once halted till he
came up, and he reported he had gone to the other road and found
that a large force of the enemy had gone along it towards Holly
Springs, and had passed the point of intersection before he had
reached it. I immediately ordered the command, being in column of
fours, to wheel by fours, and began to move back. About that time
several of the enemy's scouts appeared, just as an aide from the
general, whose name was Jones
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reached me. These
scouts had come directly across the field from their column on the
other road, and were near enough to fire at my column, though
without doing any damage. I could not where I was deploy the
command, and therefore made haste to get out of my dangerous
position. A little ways back General Jackson had halted with his
body guard and the artillery, and on my reaching him at once began
to move towards Holly Springs, but left the road we were on and took
a circuitous route around it. We reached that place late at night,
and it was evacuated by all our forces, the army going to Grenada,
the cavalry remaining in the rear. Holly Springs was at once
occupied by the enemy and made the base of supplies for their
further advance.
In a day or two after this, and while
the cavalry was at Waterford, south of Holly Springs, I received an
order from General Jackson to report to General Pemberton at
Jackson. The order was a great surprise for I could not conceive its
purpose, but I at once proceeded to obey.
Some changes
had taken place in the regiment since its reorganization; Major
Wheeler had been relieved from active service in the field because
of ill health, and Captain Simmons, the senior captain, promoted to
major, Lieutenant Tom Kennedy succeeding him in command of the
Carroll county company; Lieutenant Cravens succeeding Captain Beall,
and that brave old soldier Lieutenant William Steele commanding the
Tallahatchie company, Captain Marshall being sick at home and not
rejoining his company for a long time and soon after resigning, when
Steele was promoted to be captain. I turned over the regiment to
Major Simmons, Colonel Pinson not having as yet recovered
sufficiently to resume command. I went at once to Jackson and
reported to General Pemberton, who wanted to know why I was ordered
to report to him. Of course I was surprised at
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this, as I did not know, and he requested me to call the next
morning. I did so, and he gave me an order to report to General
Gregg, of Texas, who was in command of the post at that time. I
found General Gregg to be a true southern gentleman, and I shall
always cherish his memory as long as I live, for his advice saved me
from doing what afterwards would have been a life long regret.
After a long talk with him, we both came to the conclusion
that the course General Jackson had taken was an indirect way of
censuring me for what he may have thought was carelessness in the
advance towards old Lamar, and he agreed with me that I ought not to
submit without a protest. My first thought was to resign, but this
he so strongly advised me not to do, and gave me so many good
reasons why I should not, among others that I ought not to allow a
West Pointer to drive me from the army, that I saw he was right. I
was very indignant at what I conceived to be, as it was, unjust
treatment to be charged with I knew not what and convicted without a
trial. By General Gregg's advice I addressed through him a
respectful communication to General Pemberton, setting out my rank
and regiment, and requesting that I be returned to it, or if there
was any complaint against me that charges should be regularly
preferred, that I might have a chance to meet them. After waiting
some days and no satisfactory reply being made, I addressed through
General Gregg a similar communication to the secretary of war, and
about ten days or two weeks later received an order from General
Pemberton to report at Grenada to a court martial, a general court
martial, organized at that place to answer certain charges preferred
against me by General Jackson. To Grenada I repaired immediately,
and found upon inquiry that General Jackson had preferred two
charges of
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neglect of duty, one in connection with
the Coldwater affair, at which I was extremely surprised, and the
other the affair near Lamar. The specifications charged me in each
instance with having failed to send out a proper advance. I never
knew till long after the war whether this order came from the
secretary of war or from General Pemberton. But after the war my
friend, General Marcus Wright, who was in Washington City in charge
of the confederate war records, sent me my original letters to
General Pemberton and the secretary of war with his endorsement on
it to give me a trial, or for instant action if there were any
charges against me. I took a copy of this and returned the original
to General Wright, and I suppose it is in Washington now. I defended
myself before the court martial, and I could not help being amused,
while vexed, at the procedure.
General Jackson was
himself a witness, and it may be supposed I was not in a very good
humor with him. His testimony was fair, but when it came my time to
cross-examine him I had to write my question on a slate and submit
it to the court before it was propounded. Two of the questions the
court hesitated about, and while they consulted we were both
requested to retire, and this we did, to a gallery adjoining the
room, and there walked solemnly up and down, without speaking, till
we should be recalled.
The same thing happened with his
aide, Jones, to whom in fact I attributed all the trouble. I was
acquitted by the court on all the charges and ordered to rejoin my
regiment. It was during this trouble that Van Dorn made his
brilliant dash on Holly Springs, and compelled the retreat of
General Grant, and this greatly to my regret I missed.
So far as I know, there is only one member of this
Page
103
court now living, and that is my fried, Captain, now Judge
E. O. Sykes, of Aberdeen.
It was long before I forgave
General Jackson, and for a long time our relations were of the most
formal kind, but he was really a good officer, and as such I greatly
respected him, and the time came when it was all forgotten, as a
little incident which I will relate in its proper place, if I do not
forget, will show.
My gallant friend, General Gregg, to
whom I owed the fact that I did not resign, was ordered to the
command of a brigade in Virginia, and there died gloriously upon the
field of battle, but as long as I live I will revere his memory, and
I hope when I cross over the river to meet him among the first of
the brave comrades whom I hope to greet on that other shore.
The following is the correspondence alluded to:
JACKSON, MISS., November 14, 1862.
LIEUT.-GEN. PEMBERTON,
Comd'g, D. M. & E. La.:
General--On the 11th of this
month, by order of Colonel W. H. Jackson, Chief of Cavalry A. W.
Tennessee, I was relieved from command of my regiment and ordered to
report to you. This I lost no time in doing, and to my surprise was
informed on yesterday by Major Waddy, A. A. Gen. this department,
that I would be ordered to report to General Gregg and assigned to
duty here. I have been, General, for the past seventeen months in
active cavalry service, for twelve months as senior captain of the
regiment to which I am now attached, and for the balance of the time
in my present position, and so far as I know have never been so
unfortunate as to incur either the censure or displeasure of my
superiors in either position. Under the circumstances I cannot but
feel that the order relieving me from my command, without notice and
without charges, is an imputation upon my character,
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and does me great injustice as an officer. I therefore
respectfully and earnestly protest against being separated from my
regiment. I respectfully ask to be ordered back to my regiment, and
that Colonel Jackson be required to place his reasons for thus
removing me in such a form that I can meet them in a manner becoming
an officer in the confederate army. I confidently appeal, General,
to your sense of justice and right in this matter, and will
cheerfully submit to any investigation and shrink from no inquiry
you may see proper to order.
I am, very respectfully, your
obedient servant,
F. A. MONTGOMERY,
Lieut.-Col. First
Mississippi Cavalry.
The following is the answer:
HEADQUARTERS DEPT. MISS. & E. LA.
JACKSON, Nov. 11, 1862.
LT.-COL. F. A. MONTGOMERY, 1st Miss. Cavalry:
Colonel--In answer to your communication, I am instructed by
lieutenant-general commanding to inform you that you were relieved
from the command of your regiment, and ordered to this point, for
the want of proper activity in the exercise of the command of your
regiment. If you desire a court of inquiry, it will be ordered as
soon as the interest of the service will admit of it, but at this
time you cannot be ordered back to duty with your regiment.
I am, Colonel, very respectfully,
J. R. WADDY, A. A. Gen'l.
I at once addressed another communication to General
Pemberton, requesting to be relieved from post duty pending an
investigation, a copy of which I have not, but the answer, which I
append a copy of, indicates what it was.
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HEADQUARTERS DEPT. M. & E. LA.
JACKSON, MISS., Nov. 18,1862.
LT.-COL. F. A. MONTGOMERY, 1st Miss. Cav.:
Colonel--In reply to your communication of this day's date,
requesting that you be relieved from duty, I am directed by the
lieutenant-general commanding to say that you cannot be relieved
from duty. A board of examiners will be instituted as soon as
practicable, who will determine whether you are competent to command
First Mississippi Cavalry. The lieutenant-general commanding is not
acquainted with the particulars of your case, not having seen
Colonel Jackson; he was, however, informed that such proceedings
would best promote the good of the service.
I am,
respectfully, your obedient servant,
R. W. MENNINGER, A. A Gen.
Determined not to submit to this, and be quietly shelved as
a scapegoat for another's negligence, I then addressed the following
communication to the secretary of war, through the adjutant-general
of the army:
JACKSON, MISS., Nov. 20, 1862.
GENERAL S. COOPER, Adjt.-Gen'l Con. Army:
General--I beg
leave respectfully to ask the attention of the secretary of war to
the following facts: On the 11th of this month I was relieved from
the command of my regiment (the colonel being absent wounded), by
order of Colonel W. H. Jackson, commanding cavalry, army of west
Tennessee, and ordered to report to Lieutenant-General Pemberton.
Upon reporting to General Pemberton I was assigned to duty here,
whereupon I addressed to him a respectful protest against being
separated from my regiment, a copy of which I send herewith, as also
the answer to the protest informing me I
Page 106
was
relieved from command for want of the exercise of proper activity in
command of my regiment. I then respectfully asked that a court of
inquiry might be ordered to investigate my case, and also that I
might be relieved from duty till the court could meet. In the reply,
which is also submitted, I am informed that as soon as practicable a
board of examiners would be instituted, who would decide whether I
was competent to command my regiment.
This board, as I
suppose, is to be appointed under an act of congress to relieve the
army of incapable and incompetent officers, and before which I must
appear as already judged incompetent by my commanding officers. I
solemnly aver that I believe myself to have been unjustly and
without cause relieved from my command, and I demand as a right
guaranteed to me by the articles of war of the confederate army that
a court of inquiry shall be ordered to investigate whether it be so
or not. I respectfully state that I am a native of Mississippi; that
I took up arms at the commencement of this war from no desire except
that of doing my duty, as became a southern man; that I have
continued in the service to the present time without ever having
incurred the censure of my commanding officers; that at this time
the state is invaded, and my regiment is in the face of the enemy,
while I am deterred from striking a blow in its defense, and I
respectfully ask, in view of the fact that no charge is preferred
against me, as will appear from the statement of Lieutenant-General
Pemberton that he is not acquainted with the particulars of my case,
that the secretary of war would cause me to be returned to my
regiment to await the action of the court of inquiry, and I
respectfully ask, as an act of justice to myself, that an
Page
107
investigation shall be ordered at the earliest posssible
moment.
I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
F. A. MONTGOMERY,
Lieut.-Col. First Miss. Cav.
Upon
this letter are the following indorsements:
This
officer was relieved from the command of his regiment for alleged
incompetency. He protests against his removal and applies for a
court of inquiry, and in the meantime appeals to the secretary of
war to be returned to his regiment till the result before the court
is ascertained. Nothing is known of the case here, except as it is
presented within. The commanding general is competent to decide on
the propriety of the removal and to order the court demanded by
Lieutenant-Colonel Montgomery.
Respectfuliy submitted to
secretary of war.
S. Cooper Asst. In.-Gen.
December 11, 1862.
These papers are returned to Lieutenant-General
Pemberton. The act of the 13th act authorizes a general commanding a
department when the good of the service and the efficiency of his
command requires it, and it is his duty, to appoint an examining
board, and to be composed of officers of a rank as high as that of
the officer complained of, to inquire of the qualifications of the
officer to discharge the duties of his rank. The act proceeds: "That
when such board determines the officer clearly unfit to perform his
legitimate and proper duties, or careless and inattentive in their
discharge, they shall make a full report of their proceedings to the
general commanding, who shall, if he approve the finding of the
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board, suspend the officer who has been found unfit,
and shall transmit the decision and finding to the secretary of war
with the action thereon. Provided, that the officer shall be
entitled to be heard and have witnesses in his defense." The action
in this case seems to have commenced with the measure with which it
should have ended after trial and conviction. The measure of calling
an examining board belongs to the general alone, and a subordinate
commander has no authority to discharge from his rank and position
an officer on the ground of incompetency in advance of the sentence
of the board, and the judgment of the commanding general. This
review of the papers is not made with any intention of prejudicating
the case, nor of deciding whether the facts be accurately stated, or
to question the propriety of any officer's conduct, but simply to
say that upon the face of this statement, there is matter proper for
instant action.
By order of secretary of war.
J.
A. CAMPBELL, Asst. Sec.
Dec. 18, 1862.
Respectfully referred to Lieut.-Gen. J. C. Pemberton.
By command of secretary of war.
C. H. LEE,
Major
and A. A. Gen.
A. and In. G. O.
Dec. 22, 1862.
As I have before said General Jackson chose to prefer
charges against me regularly before a general court martial, and I
was promptly acquitted and restored at once to my regiment in
consequence of this action of the secretary of war ordering "instant
action" in my case, for his suggestion was equivalent to an order. I
have long since forgiven the men who treated me unjustly in this
matter, and have refrained from giving the real reasons for it, with
the names of those chiefly
Page 109
responsible, for I
cannot find it in my heart to say anything unkindly of any true
confederate soldier. It is enough for me that I was vindicated and
that I never lost the confidence and respect of my comrades by
reason of this prosecution.
While the army was at
Grenada, President Davis paid us a visit, the first he had paid to
the state after he was elected president of the confederacy and the
last till he had been released from Fortress Monroe. All the
infantry and artillery were in line, and were estimated to be twenty
thousand men. They presented a splendid appearance, and received Mr.
Davis with the greatest enthusiasm as he rode along the long line,
halting in front of each regiment as he reached its center and
returning its salute. He presented a fine soldierly appearance and
looked to me as young as he had when I heard him speak in 1851 in
Fayette, as elsewhere related. Mr. Davis and my father had been
classmates at the same college in Kentucky, and I had for a long
time a letter written by my father's guardian, in 1823, from
Natchez, now lost, but in which special mention was made of Mr.
Jefferson Davis. This old letter would be interesting to publish if
I now had it, though it has once been published in the "Greenville
Times," when that paper was controlled and edited by that
distinguished editor, Captain J. S. McNeilly. Only once did I ever
make known to Mr. Davis that I was the son of his old friend and
schoolmate, and that was when he came to Jackson after the war as a
guest of the state upon the invitation of the legislature, of which
at the time I was a member. He was then bowed down with age and
infirmities, but his mental faculties were not impaired. It was
while addressing the legislature on this occasion that he said, "My
friends, I have been asked why I never have sought a pardon, the
reason is I have never
Page 110
repented." For him this was
right; the high place he had held, the indignities to which he had
been subjected while a prisoner in Fortress Monroe, all, in my
opinion, justified him in living and dying an unrepentant rebel, as
the government chose to consider him--a consistent and
uncompromising confederate as he lives in the hearts of his own
loved people of the south. Again, once more, if not oftener, I must
speak of him before these memoirs, close.
Page 111
CHAPTER XII.
Columbia, Tennessee--General Forrest--Van Dorn--Sick
leave--Faithful servant Jake Jones--Cross delta in
dug-out--Methodist preacher and his wife--Lost for day and
night--Home--"Featherbeds"--Anecdotes--Fight of "Featherbeds" at my
place--Houses all burned by Federals--Privations of the
people--Return to army--Incidentals of trip--Rejoin regiment at
Mechanicsburg.
General Grant having abandoned his
attempt to march through the state to Vicksburg, proceeded to
concentrate his forces on the river above that city, and our army
was withdrawn from Grenada, and mostly concentrated in and around
Jackson, Mississippi; but our cavalry brigade was sent to Columbia,
Tennessee, where a large cavalry force was assembled under General
Van Dorn, whose brilliant exploit at Holly Springs had given promise
of greater usefulness as a cavalry commander than as the commander
of a department. This was early in 1863, and this was to be a busy
year for our cavalry brigade. As well as I recall it, we reached
Columbia early in February of that year, and here found also General
Forrest, so that we had with us the two most distinguished cavalry
commanders who had yet gained fame on the left of our line of
defense in the west. My health had been bad for some time, and I was
compelled while at Columbia to ask for a leave of absence, and this
was very difficult to obtain. I could not have gotten it if it had
not been for the strong personal recommendations of Generals Van
Dorn and Forrest, for orders had been issued by General Bragg that
no furloughs or leaves of absence should be granted, but all sick,
whether officers or men, should be sent to the
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hospital. I had known General Forrest before the war, but had not
before met him since the war began; and both he and General Van Dorn
interested themselves so much for me that General Bragg signed my
leave for sixty days. I never met the gallant Van Dorn again, for
not long after his capture of Spring Hill he was killed in a private
difficulty with a gentleman whose name I do not mention, in the very
midst of his army, and whose daring deed and dashing escape were
long the talk of the command. What General Van Dorn might have
become as a cavalry commander if he had lived, can only be surmised;
but all believed that he would have become among the greatest, if
not the greatest, of our cavalry leaders. He had won distinction in
the Mexican war, and in a fight afterwards with Indians, and the
legislature of Mississippi had voted him a sword. But peace to his
ashes; let his faults be buried with him, and his virtues and
devotion to his cause alone be remembered.
In the affair
at Spring Hill my regiment, under the command of Colonel Pinson, won
new honors for him and itself; but as I did not participate in it, I
attempt no description of this battle. I made my way slowly towards
my home, and when I reached Carrollton, some time in March, I found
that it was impossible to get home on horseback, the delta being
almost entirely under water from the Mississippi river.
I had with me a favorite servant, whose name was Jake Jones,
and I determined to cross the Yazoo river, and buy a canoe (or
dug-out, as these little boats are called in the delta), and make my
way home by water. I had purchased Jake Jones a year or two before
the war, for a house-servant and carriage-driver, and he was a very
bright boy, though without education of any kind. I had had him with
me during the war up to that time, and kept him with me for some
months longer; but so
Page 113
many of my negroes had gone
to the federals before the end of that year, leaving only a few old
men and boys and women and children, that I determined to send him
home and take a younger boy. I knew that he could if he would, and I
believed he would, be of great use in taking care of my family and
of the other negroes. I told him that if the south was conquered in
the war he would be free; if the south was successful and he was
faithful to his trust I would give him his freedom. He was faithful
to the end, and without him I don't know how my wife could have
managed and provided for those who were dependent on her.
Poor fellow, after the war he fell into bad habits, drinking
and using that horrible drug, morphine, and one night murdered a
negro woman. The proof was clear, it was a cold-blooded murder, but
the jury was merciful and gave him a life sentence. Three days later
he committed suicide in jail, and I was glad he had the courage to
do it. Jake Jones was like many other negroes in the south, faithful
to their owners and protecting and preserving their families while
the owner was away in the army, but whom freedom ruined. Not many,
however, of the old slaves of the south have been found in the
criminal class; few of them have committed crimes, and this
unfortunate one's crime was due to that which makes a fiend of any
man, whether he be white or black.
I crossed the Yazoo
river at or near Sidon, and for a mile or two on the other side had
high and dry land on the plantation of a gentleman, whose name I
forget; but he kindly consented to care for my horses till the water
went down, and then sent me on in a dug-out to Mr. Waites', the old,
and I believe, at that time, sheriff of Sunflower county. The water
surrounded Mr. Waites house on all sides, but his yard was dry. Here
I found a Methodist preacher, who was on his way to his circuit
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in the Delta, just on the other side of Sunflower
river, and on my route home. His name was Flower, and he had his
wife with him. He had procured a very large dug-out, and when I got
to Mr. Waites' he was busy trying to make it lighter, and as it was
big enough for us all, including his wife's trunk, not one of the
huge affairs of these days, we soon agreed to be companions as far
as he intended to go, and Jake Jones went to work with him and they
soon had the dug-out all right. The next morning after breakfast,
and with a lunch for each, we started across the bottom to make
Sunflower river before dark. When we started I inquired of Mr.
Flower if he was certain he knew the way, as I wished to stop at an
old bear hunter's house a little off the road, and not far from Mr.
Waites', and hire him to pilot us across to the river. But Flower
said he was certain there was no trouble; he had come over the road
a few days before, and that we just followed the road which had been
plainly cut out till we came to a cane ridge which the road crossed,
where the water was too shallow to float our boat, and there we went
round the ridge till we came to the road on the other side, and then
it was plain sailing to the river. I let him have his way, though I
was not satisfied. We got along all right till we got to the ridge
and then started round it. We never did get round it, but we paddled
till dark. Mr. Flower lost his head completely, as men always do
when they find they are lost, and he finally agreed to give up the
direction of the trip to me. I was a good woodsman, though I had
never been there before. At dark we pulled up by the side of a big
log, and there passed the night as well as we could. It was a lonely
night, with the water deep enough to float a steamboat, and I never
before or since heard as many unearthly noises, but I did not feel
at all uneasy, for I knew we must ultimately strike either the
Sunflower
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or Yazoo river. Next morning I determined
to follow an old float road in which we found ourselves, knowing
that it would bring us to the brake from which the timber had been
floated, when we could turn and follow it out, or to one or the
other of the rivers. About eleven o'clock we found ourselves at the
very place where we had turned to go round the ridge, and we
recognized the place by a fence which was partly visible. It was not
far to the bear hunter's, and we made for the place and found him at
home. His wife got us some breakfast and he went with us to the
Sunflower. We went on to where Mr. Flower had his home, and I there
spent the night, leaving early next morning in a lighter boat. I had
no further trouble, as by keeping in bayous I knew, on the fifth day
after I had crossed the Yazoo I found myself at home, or at the
temporary home which my wife was occupying, to her surprise and joy
as well as my own.
Here for some weeks I enjoyed a
delightful rest, and rapidly recruited my health. The water was
falling and the roads to the river, some ten miles off, were open,
and there was some little danger from federal raids, but not much,
for I had timely notice when they were out. The federals had a camp
at the mouth of White river and would now and then cross cavalry to
this side, but they soon returned when they came, and, except on one
or two occasions, did no damage. Once they had come to where my
family was staying, and inquired for me, but were told that I was in
the army; and, except looking through the house for arms, which they
did not find, they gave no trouble. My neighbor and kinsman, Major
W. E. Montgomery, did not fare so well; they burned his house to the
ground, though his family was living in it at the time. This was
about two miles from where my wife was living, and the fire could
plainly be seen, and this, of course, added to the apprehensions my
wife felt.
Page 116
Mrs. Montgomery (the major's wife)
succeeded in saving some of her furniture, and, I believe, some of
the good-natured federals even helped her.
Major
Montgomery commanded the state troops in the county, and had a
commission from the state, but his command was considered by the
federals as guerrillas. They were nicknamed by the people and
soldiers "featherbeds," because they always scattered at night and
slept in their own or other people's houses, and were usually safe
in doing so, as raids were seldom made at night. However, on one
occasion, the major and two or three of his men were captured at
night. They were sleeping soundly when a raid guided by a negro,
came on them. A small guard was left with them while the raid went
on to another house. The house in which they had caught the major
was in a small clearing surrounded by cane. They did not know who
they had caught, and when the main body went on the major pretended
to have something the matter with him, and asked one of the guards
to walk round the yard with him, which he agreed to do. The major
took care to walk in the direction of the cane, and his guard asked
him about the game in the country, and if there were any bear, and
if they were ever dangerous. The major told him, as was at that time
true, that there were plenty of bear, but they seldom attacked men.
Just then a noise was made by a cow or mule in the cane, and the
major said: "There's one now." His guard turned with his gun
presented towards the noise, and the major made a bold dash to the
cane in another place, and, though he was fired on, escaped.
The first lieutenant of the "featherbeds" was my
brother-in-law (we had married sisters), and nearest friend, Joseph
Sillers. This gentleman, at the breaking out of the Mexican war, was
living near Vicksburg, and joined a company from that place which
was in Mr.
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Davis's regiment in Mexico, and was in
the battles of Monterey and Buena Vista. He was to me a brother,
and, when I went into the army, to him I entrusted my family and all
my affairs. Two or three months before the close of the war, he was
taken prisoner at my house, where he had stopped to take dinner, and
carried first to Cairo, but soon taken to Vicksburg, where he was
taken sick and died. Just as I got home from the war, news of his
death came to the county, and his wife sent to Vicksburg at once,
but his grave could not be located, This company of home guards did
a great deal of good, for they overawed the lawless element in the
county, and there were, the last two years of the war, many who now
and then passed through it. They cost me, however, a great loss, for
it happened I had an abundance of forage on my place on the river,
and they made it a frequent stopping place. One day, a transport
with a regiment of soldiers on it landed at my landing, and a
skirmish ensued, which enraged the federals, and they burned every
house on the place, except one shanty in which an old negro, and his
wife were living. Perhaps, they might not have done this, but
according to the old negro's account, they had a man killed in the
skirmish, while the "featherbeds" got away without harm.
I found at home this time several old fashioned spinning
wheels and a loom, and spinning and weaving going on all the time.
Very good cloth was made not only for the negro wear, but some
really nice weaving was done for the children and ladies. Sugar,
coffee and wheat flour were luxuries seldom indulged in, though when
I was at home I had coffee if it was to be had, for to me it was
more than a luxury, and still is. Indeed, I managed, or my wife did,
to keep me in coffee even in the army, and I would often make it
myself in a tin cup, first boiling the water, then putting in
coffee, let it boil again,
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and if I had sugar, as I
generally had, stirring it all up together and when it settled drink
it. All these are trivial matters, but all go to make up the history
of the times when the delicate and refined women of the south
cheerfully submitted to hardships and privations, to which they had
been unaccustomed, while they gave their husbands and sons to a
cause they deemed holy. And it was holy, for any cause which brought
these virtues so conspicuously to the front, and which was
consecrated by the blood of so many of our best and bravest must
needs be holy, though the sacrifices were made and the blood was
shed in vain. But no, I will not say that, for in the years which
are to come, when the men and women who took part in the great
events of that time are all gone, they will still live in song and
story, and be among the treasured memories of the nation. The want
of medicine was among the great privations of that time, and all
sorts of substitutes were sought, especially for quinine regarded as
indispensable in chills and fever, then much more prevalent than
now. For this, willow bark tea and cobweb pills, and some other
specific I have forgotten, were used, and would break chills.
While I was at home a raid came within two miles of me, and
from a secure place in a cane break, with an impassable bayou
between us, I had a good view of the whole force while they remained
in a neighbor's yard, and wished for a company or two from the first
Mississippi. As to the "featherbeds," I don't know where they were,
all I know is the raid came and went in peace.
The
waters had fallen, my health was restored and my leave about to
expire, I prepared to leave. I sent for my horses and found they had
been well cared for, and took leave of my wife and family. I found
when I reached the hills that my brigade had been recalled to
Mississippi, and had just gone to Mechanicsburg on the extreme right
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of the army which General Johnston was assembling
at Jackson to relieve Vicksburg, after General Pemberton had allowed
himself to be shut up in that city. This was about the last days of
May, 1863, or early in June, the exact date not being remembered.
Some pleasant incidents of that trip back to the command
I recall, and here record for my own pleasure, if not that of my
readers.
Halting one night just at dark after a long
day's ride in the hills which I had reached that morning, I
requested permission of a gentleman who came to his gate at my call,
to stay all night and for food for my horses and servant. He
expressed regret but said his house was full of friends who had
refugeed to get out of the way of the enemy, and he could not
possibly entertain me. I told him I wanted nothing but food and
forage, and would make my bed under a tree in his lawn. But to this
he was unwilling, insisting that a ride of half a mile more would
bring me to a house where he knew I would be entertained I had made
up my mind to go no further, and told him I was too tired and would
camp where was. He was evidently perplexed, as he did not wish to be
inhospitable, but while we were talking a little girl some ten or
eleven years old came from the gallery of the house not far away,
and whispered to him. He looked at me with a smile and said his
little daughter insisted room could be made for me, and requested me
to dismount.
I followed him to the gallery where there
were a number of ladies and children, and took a seat. I saw at once
unless his house was larger than it looked his excuse was a good
one. After being seated awhile and having said where I was going,
one of the young ladies asked me if I knew Colonel Montgomery of the
First Mississippi Cavalry. On my replying that I was the man,
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she introduced herself as Miss Grant, a daughter of my
friend, General Grant, of Coahoma county, and a brother of my young
friend Everhard, or as he was called in his company Leb. Grant. She
was not at home when I was in that county interfering with the
laudable efforts of General Hovey to get cotton. The gentleman at
whose house she was now staying, Dr. Thomas L. Meade, was a
relative, and the whole family, when they learned who I was, were
glad I had not been turned from the door, as they all fancied
themselves under some obligations to me for supposed kindness to her
brother. I spent a pleasant night with this estimable family and was
especially charmed with the sweet little daughter of my host, to
whose intercession I owed my entertainment.
The next day
at noon I came to a nice looking cottage by the road side, and
hailed from the gate to know if I could get dinner and rest awhile,
and was invited by the servant who came to the door to come in.
I went to the gallery and spread my blanket and laid down,
but in a few moments a charming young lady came to the door and
invited me into the parlor to rest on the sofa. After a few minutes
of pleasant conversation, she left me to prepare dinner, but not
before she had informed me she was the daughter of Dr. Tradewell,
and that her father was absent on professional business. I enjoyed
the sofa, an old fashioned one, and was sleeping soundly when she
called me to a dinner such as soldiers seldom had a chance to eat.
During the meal I made inquiries as to certain families who once I
knew had lived in that section of the country, who were related to
me, and who had been visited by my mother, taking me with her, when
I was a small boy. She knew all about them, and on her mother's side
was related to them, and one of them I learned, a Mrs. Deloach, was
living a few miles further on my road. She had, when a girl, lived
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with my mother, and I remembered her well. My
charming hostess had a good deal to ask about a certain lieutenant,
afterwards Captain Johnson, of Colonel Starke's regiment, and
fortunately I was enabled to give him truly a high character as a
soldier. She knew him well as a man as he was a near neighbor, and
as a matter of fact they were engaged to be married, and were
married after the war. I left in time to get to my cousin's, Mrs.
Deloach, where I spent the night. I have never seen these good
people since; most of them are dead, but Captain Johnson and his
wife were living a few years ago and I hope still are. The next
night I stopped at a wayside tavern a few miles from Yazoo City,
kept as I found, by a Methodist preacher named Pearce, whom I had
known years before in Jefferson county, an earnest and sincere man.
I attended his family prayers night and morning, and I was impressed
with the earnestness with which he prayed that "God would deliver us
from our remorseless enemies." It is a curious thing in the history
of Christian nations when at war with each other, that devout men
and women on either side invoke with zeal and faith the aid of
Deity, and when victory comes to one, Te Deums are sung, while to
the other sorrow and humiliation and often oppression are brought. I
believe it to be true that out of all great wars good has come to
the common cause of humanity, for "He maketh even the wrath of man
to praise Him."
Another day brought me to my command,
from whom I had been separated about two months, and I was delighted
to be back, and received both from men and officers a cordial
welcome.
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CHAPTER XIII.
General
Cosby--Skirmishing--Letter to wife--Son of General Thomas
Hinds--Letter to wife 4th of July, 1863--General Joseph E. Johnston,
move to relieve Vicksburg--Brigade ordered forward to the
attack--Surrender of Pemberton--Fall back on Jackson--Confederacy
cut asunder--How General Dick Taylor crossed river--Effect of fall
of Vicksburg--Pemberton blamed severely--Loyalty doubted--Siege of
Jackson--Evacuation of Jackson--Judge Sharkey--"Camp near
Brandon"--Letters to my wife--Captain Herrin's dash at
federals--Captain Herrin captures foraging party--Lightning kills
man in camp--Scout into Jefferson county, General Clark--"Count
Wallace."
The brigade was commanded by Brigadier-General
Cosby, who had been recently assigned to it, but whom I had never
seen or even heard of till now. There were four regiments and King's
Missouri battery under his command, and constituted the first
brigade of General W. H. Jackson's cavalry division. The following
regiments composed our brigade at that time: 1st Mississippi,
Colonel Pinson; Colonel Gordon, 2d, I believe; Colonel Starke, 28th,
and Ballentine's regiment, Colonel Ballentine, which regiment was
composed partly of Tennessee companies and one, at least,
Mississippi company, commanded by Captain R. H. Taylor, of Sardis,
Panola county (who at this writing is still living), a splendid
company and gallantly commanded.
The other brigade was
not far away, and was, as well as I remember, commanded by Colonel
(afterwards brigadier-general) Ross, the gallant Texan. Colonel
Jackson's old regiment, and at the time Colonel Wirt
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Adams', Colonel Ross', and some other cavalry, I don't remember,
made the second brigade.
In my regiment Adjutant Sykes
had been compelled to retire from active service on account of ill
health, and that brave boy, William Beasley, the sergeant-major, had
been promoted in his place, and Tom Wilson, a nephew of Colonel
Pinson, had been made sergeant-major.
Captain Herrin's
squadron, his own company and Captain Lester's, which had been
detached for some time on duty near Ponchatoula, here rejoined the
regiment. Soon after my arrival I paid my respects to General Cosby,
and was very unfavorably impressed with his capacity as a commander,
which subsequent knowledge, while he had the command, several
months, only confirmed, but adhering to my purpose to say as little
as possible in adverse criticism of confederate officers, I will say
no more about him on that line.
We were in touch with
the enemy, and frequent skirmishes occurred on the picket line with
small loss to either side, except on one occasion, which I find
referred to in a letter to my wife (one of the two or three I have)
and from which I here make some extracts:
CAMP NEAR
MECHANICSBURG, June 27, 1863.
. . . A few days ago two
regiments from the command were sent out on a scout, and had a
pretty sharp fight with the Yankees, capturing about thirty and
killing as many more, our loss about twenty killed and wounded.
Howell Hinds, who is here attached to Wirt Adams' regiment (one of
those engaged) as a sort of free fighter, I suppose, was dangerously
wounded. A few days later General Cosby went out with several
regiments, mine among the rest, but we saw no Yankees. Colonel
Pinson was out of camp sick, I expect him back
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to
day. . . . It is impossible to say when and where General Johnston
will move, no one knows but himself.
. . . We can hear
at this camp every cannon fired at Vicksburg, and some days, and
even nights, the firing has been terrific. I have heard no guns
yesterday or to-day. I confess I have my fears whether we will be
able to save the place, but hope for the best. If there is abundance
of supplies there, and it is said there is, I have no fears but the
garrison can hold out some time yet, and I suppose General Johnston
will certainly move against the enemy in time to save the place. But
Johnston's plans are only known to himself. There is a story in camp
that he told a lady the other day who asked him some questions that
"if he thought his hat knew the thoughts of his head he would burn
it up."
. . . This was an old story told of some eminent
commander of a former age which I had read somewhere, but it served
to amuse the camp, and did not lessen the confidence the army
already began to feel in General Johnston. The Howell Hinds
mentioned in the letter was a son of the famous General Thomas Hinds
of Mississippi's early history, and was now well advanced in years,
had been my neighbor when I lived in Jefferson county, and was a man
of large property in that county and Washington, and I was surprised
to hear he was with the army.
Learning that he was at a
house a few miles only from camp, I went to see him, and he said his
reason for coming into the army was that he thought the time had
come when every man who could shoulder a gun should turn out and
fight for his home. He was badly wounded, but he recovered from the
wound only to be killed in a private difficulty not his own, in the
city of Greenville, within two years after the war, while trying to
separate two friends who were fighting.
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Every day we were anxiously waiting for orders to advance,
and expecting them at any moment, and ready at a moment's notice.
The fateful 4th of July came and found us still in camp; and on that
morning I wrote again to my wife, having a chance to send the
letter, which is one of those preserved, and I make some extracts
from that, as showing the feeling which prevailed, for the
sentiments I expressed were not only my own, but those which
prevailed among the soldiers.
CAMP NEAR MECHANICSBURG,
July 4, 1863.
. . . We are living pretty hard at
present; some days we have tolerably good fare, and others pretty
bad. Every day nearly some of the boys bring me a pint or so of fine
blackberries, of which there are great quantities in this country,
and I enjoy them very much. Roasting ears are also ripe now, and we
will not starve.
Time still drags on, and we have not
yet attacked the Yankees; but I think, from the signs of the times,
it will not be much longer postponed. The attack may at any moment
commence, and I hope and believe we will be able to whip them and
relieve our gallant army in Vicksburg, who for so many weeks have
been shut up in their works, exposed to an incessant storm of shot
and shell. I saw extracts the other day from the "Vicksburg Evening
Citizen" of the 23d, and up to that time it was estimated fifty
thousand shells had been thrown into the city. We lose about fifty
men killed and wounded every day, among whom I notice the names of
several valuable officers. If we do succeed in either whipping Grant
or in compelling him to raise the siege, it will be a terrible blow
to the enemy, one from which they will not recover during the war,
and will, I believe, compel them to make peace with us.
The signs of the times are very favorable. I read an
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article from an influential New York paper--[I am sorry
I did not mention in the letter the name of the paper]--a few days
ago advocating, in bold and plain terms, peace upon the terms of
recognizing the independence of the south, the division of the
territories, and the right of the border slave states to choose
which section of the old Union they will attach themselves to.
Nothing can now reanimate the war spirit in the north, except some
great and decisive success, which will be at the same time a severe
loss to us. Such would be the capture of Vicksburg. But even with
the loss of Vicksburg no true southerner would despair. It would
only prolong the war. A few short weeks will settle the question,
and determine whether the brave little city, which has stood like a
wall of fire between the Yankees and their hopes, will still stand
proudly defiant or be compelled to yield to the foe. I have strong
hopes--nay, I am almost confident--in our ability to drive them
back. May God grant it, and peace soon be restored. . . .
This old letter, written on the very day Vicksburg fell, is
of priceless value to me now. Even while it was being written
negotiations were going on for the surrender, and the great and
decisive success to the federals, with severe loss to the south, was
an accomplished fact, though it was several hours later before I
knew it.
Our command was on the west side of the Big
Black river, so we did not have to cross in order to join in the
advance of the army, and on the day of the surrender, and not long
after I had finished my letter and started it on its way homeward,
we were ordered to move. I remember that we marched till after dark,
some ten or twelve miles from our camp, and there bivouacked, not
far from the banks of the river. My recollection is that pontoons
were laid, and the infantry and artillery were
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to
begin crossing at daylight the next morning, and we were to be in
advance and first meet the enemy. But it was not to be.
"Alas for the Southron the struggle was
o'er,
Our banners were waiving o'er
Vicksburg no more;
The stripes of the
Yankees were floating instead,
And the
hearts of Mississippians were broken and dead."
It is
thirty-seven years since this humiliating and disastrous surrender,
but I cannot recall it now without anger and indignation at the
incompetent man who had its destiny in his hands. Some thought he
was a traitor then; God forgive him if he was; they may have done
him wrong, for only God can read the hearts of men. But he could not
more surely have done a greater wrong to his cause if he had been.
Surrendering on the 4th day of July, the day of all others which
would most fire the northern heart, and nerve it to new efforts to
conquer the confederacy, when he knew that a few hours would bring
an attack from General Johnston, which would enable him, if he were
a brave man, to cut his way through and save his army, if they could
not save the place. But it sickens me to think of it; never but once
again before the final surrender did I feel such gloom and so much
despair But of that time in its place. Just before the close of the
war at Columbus, Mississippi, I heard Mr. Davis freely criticised by
a member of the confederate congress, in an open speech, for the
appointment of General Pemberton among other things, and ably
defended by an eminent lawyer who was present. In its proper place I
will refer to this again, and give the names of these gentlemen.
The fall of Vicksburg, and of Port Hudson a little later,
cut the confederacy in two, and henceforth intercourse between the
two parts could only he had by stealth. The following quotation from
General Dick Taylor's book, the
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only one about the
war which I have read with pleasure, "Destruction and
Reconstruction," will give an idea of the way communication between
the two sections of the confederacy was kept up. He had been
promoted to lieutenant-general, and ordered to command the
Department of Mississippi, early in 1864, and was on his way to his
new command from the town of Natchitoches in Louisiana:
"A grand old oak on the east bank of the Black river, the
lower Washita, protected my couch, and in the morning, with two
guides, the faithful Tom following, I threaded my way through swamp
and jungle to the Mississippi, which was reached at sunset. A light
canoe was concealed some distance from the river bank, and after the
short twilight faded into night, this was borne on the shoulders of
the guides and launched. One of the guides embarked to paddle, and
Tom and I followed, each leading a horse. A gunboat was lying in the
river a short distance below, and even the horses seemed to
understand the importance of silence, swimming quietly alongside of
our frail craft. The eastern shore reached, we stopped for a time to
rub and rest the cattle, exhausted by long continued exertion in the
water, then pushed on to Woodville, some five and twenty miles
east." With such difficulties as this described by General Taylor,
and his is no fancy sketch to my certain knowledge, no wonder that
the fall of Vicksburg discouraged our men for a time--discouraged,
but did not daunt them--for nearly two years more of bloody war,
with untold hardships, was yet to come before the south was
conquered. Before daylight of the morning of the fifth of July a
courier reached us with news of the fall of Vicksburg, and with
orders to cross the Big Black river. We crossed that day, and our
wagon trains were sent towards Jackson, while the
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command proceeded to the railroad, which we struck somewhere between
Edwards and Bovina.
This we destroyed as much as we
could, burning crossties and heating the rails, twisted them into
every imaginable shape.
This we continued to do, falling
back towards Jackson all the time, for the enemy lost no time in
following up their victory, and marched straight on to Jackson, of
which place they commenced the investment on the ninth. The city was
well protected with intrenchments, defended by the army which
General Johnston had gathered for the relief of Vicksburg, but we
were ordered through, and crossed Pearl river, encamping in the
bottom on the other side. There we remained till the city was
evacuated on the night of the sixteenth, when we also fell back to
take a position on the railroad between Jackson and Brandon.
While we were in the Pearl river bottom, General Pemberton
rode through the camp on his way to a point where he could take the
railroad for Richmond. I saw him plainly, Colonel Pinson being with
me at the time, and we both pitied the man who had so signally
failed when in high command. He looked sorrowful. He went to
Richmond, where he resigned his commission as lieutenant-general,
and retained his regular rank as lieutenant-colonel of artillery. I
never heard of him again during the war, but after the war saw a
notice of his death in a paper, and he died, I believe, poor and
obscure, which goes far to relieve him of the suspicion of treason,
which many entertained.
From the ninth to the sixteenth
inclusive, Jackson was besieged, and all day long and every day,
there was continual firing of small arms as well as cannonading, but
we took no part in the fighting, being held in reserve to cover
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the retreat of the army, for there was no purpose to
try and hold Jackson.
I do not think many assaults were
ever made on any part of the works with any serious intent to carry
them by the enemy, who were far too wary to risk this with so great
a soldier as General Johnston in command, and our loss, I think, was
small, but all assaults made were repulsed, the most serious being
on the twelfth of July.
Almost every day either Colonel
Pinson or myself would ride into the city and observe the course and
progress of the siege, and once I remember as I sat on my horse in
front of the Capitol, a shell exploded immediately over my head. It
is surprising what little damage was done to the city or Capitol.
Nearly all the citizens had refugeed to the surrounding country till
the siege was over, and many of these were in our camp every day.
Once I remember that distinguished jurist, Judge
Sharkey, afterwards provisional governor of the state by appointment
of President Johnson, paid us a visit, which was appreciated, for no
man in the state was more honored. He was a great lawyer and a Whig,
but true to his state.
The army, infantry and artillery,
were moved on to Meridian, while our brigade was left near Brandon,
and here we remained till the enemy some weeks later of their own
accord left Jackson, their troops being mostly sent to more
important places, though a strong force was left in Vicksburg. I
don't know, or at least do not now recall, where General Jackson
with the other brigade was at this time.
While at this
camp near Brandon, General Cosby took a notion to divide his four
regiments into two brigades, giving Colonel Pinson the command of
one, and thus giving me the command of my own regiment.
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We were inactive most of the time, but I was nearest
the enemy, and one day heard of a raid which came boldly within
about three miles of camp. My scouts informed me there was only one
company of infantry (I suppose cavalry would not or could not cross
the Pearl river), with three or four wagons. They were evidently on
a marauding exposition, and I ordered Captain Herrin to take his
squadron and if possible intercept them. He was gone about four
hours when he returned with about sixty prisoners and four wagons
filled with every conceivable kind of plunder. They made a fight,
but were too much taken by surprise to do much, and he lost no men,
but they had one poor fellow killed, and learning this, I sent out
next day and had him burried where he fell, on the side of the road,
and there I expect his remains lie till this day.
While
at this camp I witnessed one day a death by lightning. A mess from
Captain Turner's Pontotoc company had its quarters under a spreading
oak just in front of the abandoned dwelling in which I had my
quarters, when a thunder storm came up and a bolt struck the tree.
There were at the time three or four men under the tree, all were
shocked, but one young High, a brave soldier, was killed. He and his
companions were at once brought to the house where the surgeon also
was, but life was extinct. At the time, we were operating the
railroad from Brandon east, and I sent his remains home with a
detail from his company, and he had a Christian's burial, surrounded
by his family. His father and mother were living and I received a
warm letter of thanks from them. In this, he and they were happier
than most of the brave soldiers who lost their lives during the war.
He was a private soldier, but like nearly all the men in our army, a
young gentleman of good family, and I am glad I
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remember his name, and it may be there are yet living those who will
be glad to see it here.
I find two letters written home
from this camp, one on the fourth and the other on the ninth of
August, and I quote from the first, to show what the feelings and
hopes of our men then were, as well as the fixed determination which
prevailed in the army.
NEAR BRANDON, August 4th 1863.
. . . "The people from all parts of Mississippi are
fleeing to Alabama and Georgia, and I don't know what is to become
of them all or how they are to live. I am convinced some effort
ought to be made to save some negro property by sending it off, yet
it is best for families in the present state of affairs to remain at
home, as they will lose less, besides saving themselves the
annoyance and trouble they must inevitably meet in attempting to run
off. Besides, the very place they run to for safety may in the end
prove unsafe. I have no doubt, Mobile will soon be invested, and it
may probably fall, if the war last long. So may every stronghold we
have got, still we will not be conquered, and never will we be while
our army remains in the field, and our people are unwhipped.
"Never despair, we will yet have peace on terms honorable to
the south. The news from Europe is by no means unfavorable. I am
satisfied that Mr. Yancey's views were correct, when, on his return
from Europe, soon after the war commenced, he said: 'England and
France would interfere whenever they thought there was danger of our
being conquered.' Although there never was danger of that, still
there is danger now that the war may last a long while unless they
interfere, and this they will do before the winter is over. Louis
Napoleon has brought his war with Mexico to a close, and, as certain
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as the sun rises and sets, he will recognize our
independence, whether any other nation joins him or not.
"I believe a great battle will be fought in Virginia before
long, and it will be important in its results, for just now the
north is bouyed up by the hope that, if Lee's noble army could be
whipped, the war would substantially be closed. . . . But, even
should Lee be defeated and Richmond be taken, there are tens of
thousands of southern men who never will lay down their arms or give
up the contest until they have wrested victory from their enemy, and
among that number, if life and health be spared, I know my wife,
while she may mourn the necessity, will yet be proud to number me;
for this is a struggle for all we hold most dear on earth, and
eternal shame and dishonor await those who refuse to do all they can
in defense of their country and liberty. . . ."
From
this letter it will be seen I was pretty sanguine at that time, even
without foreign recognition, the hopes of which proved to be like
the "stuff that dreams are made of." I quote a single sentence from
my letter of the 9th: ". . . I am interrupted by an order to march
in the morning at six o'clock. The whole brigade moves, and we go
towards Jackson, and I presume intend to wake the Yankees up
somewhere. . . ."
The enemy had retired from Jackson,
and we continued our march through the country, as far as Fayette,
but saw no enemy on the way, though the enemy were known to occupy
Natchez in considerable force.
Camping one night within
three miles of Fayette, near which had been my old home, I solicited
and obtained permission to go on that night, as I wanted to see
General Clark, who was there, having been but a short time before
exchanged. I found him still unable to walk, even on crutches, but
able to sit up, and still unconquered. It was understood that, being
unable to take
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the field again, he was willing to
accept the office of governor, and there was little doubt he would
be elected. I met, of course, many old friends, for it had only been
about eight years since I had moved from the county, but most of
those of my age or younger were in the army. Among others that I met
was 'Count Wallace,' as he was called, a free negro barber, a fine
player on the violin of the music of that day, and to whose music I
had danced the night through many a time. The 'count' had been in
Port Hudson, when that place was taken, as a servant to some
officer, and amused me very much with his description of the efforts
made by the federals to induce him to stay with them when the
command was paroled. Being a negro as black as the ace of spades,
they supposed he would be glad to do it, but he told them he was a
free man, and a southern man, and insisted on having a parole, which
at last they gave him, and which he showed with great pride.
We did not stay long in Fayette, but moved east from that
place, giving me a chance to see my uncle and former guardian,
Prosper K. Montgomery, near whose house our route led. His eldest
son, Jefferson, had been killed the year before, early in the year,
in an affair near Charleston, South Carolina, and he had several
other sons in the army, all of whom, I believe, lived through the
war.
After going some distance east, we again turned
north, and struck the railroad near Terry, and then again moved
north to beyond Jackson, where we went into camp for some days. The
whole object of our scout, I suppose, was to encourage the people,
naturally discouraged at the loss of Vicksburg, for we saw no enemy
on the entire route.
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CHAPTER XIV.
Camp
near Lexington--Colonel Ross' Texas regiment--Camp near
Richland--General Reuben Davis, candidate for governor--
Anecdote--New issue and old issue, Confederate money-- Assault on
sutler's tent--Letter to my wife--Presentation of flag--Ross' Texas
and First Mississippi regiments move to Tennessee valley--General
Sherman advancing through valley to Chattanooga--Fights in the
valley--Adjutant Beasly killed-- Ordered back to
Mississippi--General Stephen D. Lee in command-- Night march after
Federals, skirmish--Battle at Wolfe river, near Moscow--Severe loss
in regiment and by Federals.
We moved on to Canton, and
from there to Lexington, Mississippi, at or near which place the
whole division for a time was encamped. While here a grand review of
the division was had, and certainly it was a splendid body of
soldiers and made a fine appearance. A short time before I had sent
the faithful Jake Jones home with letters, the only way I frequently
had of communicating with my family. I usually had two or three of
my servants with me in camp, but he was the only one I could trust
to make the trip safely and back. This time when he returned my wife
sent with him my eldest son, a boy about thirteen years old, and he
had a chance to witness this review, something few boys in the Delta
ever saw. It was only about three days' ride home, and I kept him
with me several weeks, and only sent him home when I thought we were
about to be ordered on a distant march.
All these things
helped to reanimate the spirits of the people, for however much they
were discouraged, they could not fail to see that the soldiers were
still undismayed, so that our time was not really lost. Meantime
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men and horses were being recruited, if not in numbers
at least in strength, for the severe labors of the fall and winter
which were before us.
Winter quarters were unknown to
the cavalry since the first winter of the war, even tents had long
since become only a memory; but no matter how severe the weather,
the men had learned to improvise shelter, when a halt would be made,
that protected them well.
After this there was a period
of inactivity on the part of General Jackson's division, and the
brigades and regiments were somewhat scattered, for convenience of
subsistence for both men and horses, for we had to live entirely off
the country; but all stationed where the enemy could best be
watched, and all always in easy reach of division headquarters, so
that the command could be got together at any time without delay.
This lasted in the part of the command to which I was then attached,
some five or six weeks, during which time we had little to do except
to keep out pickets and send out now and then small scouting parties
to see what the enemy were doing.
The enemy seemed
inclined to be quiet also in Mississippi, but they held the river,
and also the Yazoo river, and we were on the lookout for raids all
the time, and this kept us from getting too dull in camp. Some time
in September, 1863, Colonel Pinson's and Colonel Ross' Texas
regiments were temporarily brigaded together, and were camped near
Richland, in Holmes county, picketing towards Yazoo City and other
points on the Yazoo river. Colonel Ross was in command as senior
colonel, and we remained together several months, and our regiment
became very fond of him and rejoiced at his promotion later to
brigadier general, and those who survived the war were specially
pleased at the high honor paid him by his state when it elected him
governor.
While at this camp the monotony was broken one
day
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in October by a visit from General Reuben
Davis, who was a candidate for governor, and who sought the camp to
advocate his claims before our regiment. By an act of the
legislature, Mississippi soldiers in the state were permitted to
vote for governor, and I believe all state officers. General Davis
had his title from having been for a time commander of the state
troops, in 1861 and 1862. He was a distinguished lawyer, and
especially as a criminal lawyer, and was the colonel of the Second
Mississippi regiment for a few months during the Mexican war, but
resigned, and then Captain Clark of the regiment was elected its
colonel, and was now, with General A. M. West, opposiug him for the
office. General Clark could not make a canvass, even if he had
wished, and I never heard of General West doing so, at least among
the soldiers.
The regiment was unmistakably for General
Clark, but it was assembled and General Davis made it a speech,
which was courteously listened to. I saw General Davis for the last
time in the winter of 1896 in Jackson, where he was personally
canvassing for subscribers to a second volume of his reminiscences.
The first had been published and is very interesting, and I had and
have it, and willingly subscribed for the second. The general was as
straight as an arrow and showed few signs of age, and I said to him
one day, "General, I have read your book and I see you do not
mention when you were born. I have known you a long time and known
of you longer and I think I know about your age, but would be glad
to know if you don't mind telling." His reply was, "Montgomery, it
does me no good to tell my age, but I will tell you. I am now in my
eighty-third year." A few months later in Huntsville, Alabama, he
fell suddenly dead in the hotel at which he way staying.
While at this camp, near Richland, an amusing
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incident occurred one night. Our regimental sutler, whose name
was Reuff (he had been a lieutenant in the Lafayette county company
the first year of the war, but was much better suited to the place
he now held), had come into camp with, for a sutler to a southern
regiment, a pretty good supply of sundries. He had been absent a
long time and the boys were at first all glad to see him and eager
to buy. But it so happened that not long before the confederate
congress had authorized a new issue of money, and there was very
little, if any, of it in camp, as we had not been paid off in some
time. Why Reuff took a notion it was any better than the old issue I
don't know, but that was his idea, and he refused to sell except for
new issue.
This incensed the men very much, and they
made many threats about it. A few nights after he came he went out
of camp into the country and left in charge of his tent a small boy
he had with him. I happened to sit up late that night, having some
of the officers with me, and my fire was not far from Reuff's tent.
Looking towards it I saw a group of men approaching it, and knowing
the feeling there was in the camp I suspected mischief, and sprang
to my feet and started to it. All at once I heard one of the men
give the order to charge, and a rush was made for the tent, and I
also started at a run, calling "halt" as I ran. I was nearer the
tent and got to it first, but only just in time. The boys manfully
admitted they intended to destroy it because Reuff would not take
their money, but they dispersed at my command and did not try any
further to molest the tent. Reuff returned to camp next morning, and
when he found what a narrow escape he had made he became a wiser
man. He took any money that was offered, and soon sold out, and had
all the money in camp.
While at this camp, near
Richland, the citizens got us
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up a barbecue, and we
had a review of the two regiments in their honor. They also
presented the 1st Mississippi with a new battle flag. I quote from a
letter to my wife at this place describing the flag:
CAMP NEAR RICHLAND, September 13, 1863.
. . .The
ladies at Richland, a little village near where we are camped, sent
us a very nice battle flag yesterday. It is the first flag we have
ever had (regimental). It is, a blue flag with a red cross extending
clear across the flag from the four corners, with white stars in the
cross, and a yellow border all round it. It makes a very pretty
appearance. . . .
It was not long before it was to wave
in the face of the enemy, and before the year closed I saw two brave
boys lose their lives while holding it aloft. It was our battle flag
till the last battle we fought, at Selma, Alabama, when disaster
overtook us, and almost the entire regiment was killed, wounded and
captured.
Some time in the last days of October our
quiet was broken by an order to Colonel Ross to move with his
regiment and Colonel Pinson's to the Tennessee Valley, and from that
time to the close of the war there was not much rest to the cavalry
either winter or summer.
It was known that General
Sherman was preparing to march from Corinth to reinforce General
Grant at Chattanooga, and we were ordered to the valley to hinder
and delay his march. We moved across the country to Pontotoc, and
reached that place or its vicinity on or about the day of the
election, and the regiment voted almost, though not quite,
unananimously for General Clark for governor, and returns were duly
made and certified by the officers who held it, and no doubt they
were duly counted, for this was before the days of trickery and
false
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counting were ever charged. We left our wagon
trains at Pontotoc, and moved, with a few days' cooked rations, by
the nearest route to the Tennessee valley and struck the railroad
(then Memphis and Charleston), first near Prides' station, about ten
miles west of Tuscumbia. I remember the place, and that we camped
several days on Mr. Prides' place, because after the war he had a
son who owned a place near where I now live, and because he was an
uncle of our old adjutant, L. M. Sykes.
General
Sherman's advance had not reached the point we were at as yet, but
our scouts soon located him not many miles away swiftly advancing.
There is or was, not far from Mr. Prides' place, and about six miles
west of Tuscumbia, a country church, situated on a high hill which
was rocky and wooded. Along the base of the hill on the north ran
the railroad, and a mile in rear of it, towards Tuscumbia, a creek.
Colonel Ross determined to make his first stand at this church, and
here, late one evening, we first came into contact with the enemy.
Our pickets were stationed on a hill about a mile away, but the
country was open between the hill we were on and the hill the
pickets held. We could plainly see the attack made on the pickets, a
company or squadron from Ross' regiment, who held their own
gallantly till forced to retire by the increasing force of the
enemy, which they did safely with the loss of a few horses and a few
men wounded.
The enemy occupied the hill they had left,
and brought up artillery (we had none), and soon made the hill we
were on lively with shells. We had no casualties, but many narrow
escapes. I remember, as I was lying on the side of the hill and
looking at the enemy, a large piece of shell buried itself in the
ground within an inch of my thigh, but a miss was "as good as a
mile."
It was late at night, and the enemy did not
advance
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that night, and after dark Colonel Ross
withdrew to the east bank of the creek I have spoken of. We there
bivouacked for the night, and made out as best we could. It was a
good line of defense if we had been strong enough, but Ross was
determined to contest every foot of the ground, and he was well
seconded by his command.
Our pickets occupied our old
position on the hill, and were unmolested during the night. But as
soon as it was day a sharp firing announced the advance of the
enemy, but the picket was a strong one, and did not easily give way.
The sun was well up before they withdrew, and they did it in good
order and without loss, having had a strong position and being well
protected. A part of the First Mississippi was placed on a hill in
rear of our main line, and I was directed to take command of this
and cover the retreat of the command when forced to retire, as it
was certain to be obliged to do. The command at the ford in the
creek bottom was somewhat sheltered by a fringe of trees and bushes
along the creek, and could not see or be seen by the enemy till they
had advanced into the bottom on the other side, but from the
position I occupied on a hill I could see them as they came down the
hill on the other side, and they advanced in considerable force of
infantry. Meantime they also could see the line I held, and planted
a battery on a hill a mile away and began to shell my line.
After one or two rounds they got the exact range, and shells
burst all round us, but strange to say, without doing any damage. At
the same time the infantry had got within range of our force at the
creek. and soon engaged it, and for a time the firing was fast and
furious. Ross and Pinson held the place as long as they could, but
finally retired, our loss being a few killed and some twenty-five or
thirty wounded. The killed and wounded were all brought off, the
dead being burried near Tuscumbia
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late that
evening, and the wounded placed in an improvised hospital at that
place. Among the wounded, was our gallant Adjutant William Beasley,
but he, Colonel Pinson sent through the country to his home near
Macon, a doctor going with him, and it was supposed he could stand
the trip. But his wound was mortal and some days after he got home
he died. He was a mere boy not yet twenty-one, as modest as a
maiden, but as fearless as the bravest man in the army, and his
death was long mourned by his comrades.
As Colonel Ross
fell back, I advanced, but the enemy had now crossed the creek and I
was compelled to retire, after a short skirmish without loss. What
the enemies loss in this affair was I do not know, but it must have
been at least equal to ours, and I think greater. We fell slowly
back to Tuscumbia and bivouacked that night near the biggest spring
I ever saw, big enough to water almost all the horses of a regiment
at one time. We had no other severe skirmish, but fell slowly back,
sometimes in front of Sherman and sometimes on his flank, until we
had reached to near Decatur, where he crossed the river and
continued his march on the other side.
As there was
nothing more to do in the valley we were recalled to Mississippi,
and marching across the mountain we reached Pontotoc some time in
the last days of November. We found our wagon trains at Pontotoc and
it was a great relief to the whole command, for we had been for
weeks without regular rations, and I hardly see how we subsisted,
but give the cavalry forage for the horses and the men would find
subsistence somehow. For myself, I chiefly felt while we were gone,
the loss of my coffee, for the small supply I took with me was soon
exhausted, and the first thing I did at night was to make a large
pot full and invited a few friends to help me drink it. If there is
such a thing as getting tipsy on coffee, I
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got
tipsy that night, for after drinking it I could not sleep a wink all
night. We remained in Pontotoc several days and I had many
courtesies shown me, especially I remember by Mr. R. L. Coffin, then
a very young man attached to our quartermaster's department, whose
home was there. He is now one of the leading merchants of that
growing and progressive city, Memphis. This was also the home of
Colonel Pinson, and of the lovely lady who a few months later became
his bride, so we did not see much of the colonel while we were
there.
In a few days we were ordered to move, and went
north to New Albany, and there found General Stephen D. Lee in
command, with several regiments beside ours and Colonel Ross'. From
there we went on to Ripley, and near that place one dark and stormy
night, on the first or second day of December, we were roused from
such shelter as we had been able to get, and ordered out to meet a
raid advancing from Pocahontas. Colonel Ross' regiment, the First
Mississippi, and Colonel Slemmons' Arkansas regiment were ordered to
go. I will never forget that night if I were to live to be a hundred
years old. Colonel Ross was sick, Colonel Pinson had not yet caught
up, and Colonel Slemmons was the ranking officer and took command.
We had not gone two miles when Slemmons sent me word that he was
taken sick, and had stopped at a convenient house on the road, and
as the officer next in rank, the command devolved on me.
A cold, hard rain was falling, and it was as dark as the
fabled Erebus. Still I went on, sending in advance a squadron of
Colonel Ross' regiment, in command of a Captain Mike, as he was
familiarly known in the command, and that is all I remember as to
his name. He was an Irishman, and a brave soldier, I know. We were
compelled to move very slowly on account of the darkness, but at
last the day began to dawn, and soon after
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Captain
Mike sent me word that he had come in sight of the enemies' camp,
and I halted the command till I could ride forward and see it. The
road was here in the woods, and I found Captain Mike had halted on
the brow of a high hill which overlooked an open country for several
miles, as well as I could see, and on a hill about three-quarters of
a mile away the enemy were plainly visible, in camp at a farm-house.
We could not be seen, nor do I think they had any knowledge of our
presence. Not far from the foot of the hill where we were, was an
ugly bayou, with steep, impassable banks, the only crossing, as far
as I could see or learn, being a bridge.
I ordered up
the command, and at the same time ordered Captain Mike to advance,
and as soon as he crossed the bridge to move forward rapidly. But
when he reached the bridge he found it impossible to cross without
repairing it, and before he could do this the head of the column of
the main body was in the valley and exposed us to the enemy. They
had no mind, however, to stay and wait our attack, but immediately
began to move off. I judged them to be about our force or larger,
but before we could cross they had gotten well under way. I followed
for about two miles and kept up a running fight with their rear
guard, but could never bring them to a stand. At daylight--as I am
just reminded by a letter from Sergeant-major T. B. Wilson of the
First Mississippi, who is still living in Pontotoc-- it quit raining
and turned bitterly cold, even freezing the clothes on the men.
Finding I could not bring them to a stand, I turned back, halting a
while that the men might build fires and dry their clothes.
When we got back to camp Colonel Pinson rejoined the
regiment, and the whole command, under General Lee, moved on to the
Memphis and Charleston railroad. General Forrest was with us, with a
small force, and the
Page 145
prime object of our move was
to assist him across into Tennessee, whither he was going to
re-arouse the people and gather recruits, in which he was
successful. I think we struck the railroad near Middleton or
Saulsbury, or perhaps between those places, and General Forrest
having crossed, General Lee moved west along that road, destroying
it as we went; and this not only for the purpose of doing damage to
the enemy, but also to draw attention from General Forrest. After
passing LaGrange the command left the railroad, and passing around
Moscow, which was strongly garrisoned, struck the road again a few
miles west of Moscow, and there tore it up again, to prevent
reinforcements from Memphis. General Lee then turned and proceeded
towards Moscow, with a view to making an attack on that place. The
First Mississippi was in advance, with General Lee, when we reached
the top of a hill overlooking the Wolfe river bottom between us and
Moscow. The country was open for two hundred yards, and then a
fringe of woods along the river, only perhaps a hundred yards wide.
Wolfe river was impassable, except by the bridge, for it
was here a deep stream. When we reached the top of the hill, we
found a strong force of the enemy from Moscow had already crossed
it, and General Lee at once ordered Colonel Pinson to charge them.
With General Lee at the time, I remember, was the bugler of Ross'
regiment, and he sounded the charge, and went with us. I cannot but
remember the brave fellow as he went, neck and neck with the
foremost, down the hill and across the open, at headlong speed,
doing his best to sound his bugle as we went.
We were
exposed to a severe fire, but nothing could check our assault. We
drove the enemy into the river, and many were drowned; some few
escaped across the bridge; but never was victory more complete, for
their
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loss was not less than forty prisoners and
one hundred and seventy-five killed, wounded and drowned, besides a
large number of horses killed and forty captured. Re-enforcements
from Moscow held the bridge, and we could not cross, but for a time
a fierce fire was kept up, with the narrow river between us.
Our victory was not gained without severe loss in our
regiment. Lieutenant Miller, a son of our old Lieutenant-Colonel
Miller, was killed, carrying our flag; another brave boy seized it,
and was killed; but a third who took it escaped, and bore it
triumphantly through the fight. We had, I think, about thirty killed
and wounded in the First Mississippi, but I only remember the name
of one other killed, perhaps because he was from my county--Nat.
McCollough. While the fight was going on in the bottom, the men had
dismounted, and many sheltered themselves behind trees. Colonel
Pinson and myself were sitting on our horses, for he would not
dismount, and I would not as long as he did not, and near by was a
boy from the colonel's own county of Pontotoc--I knew his name, but
have forgotten it--who was snugly ensconsed behind a tree, not a
very large one. He was a mere boy, but Pinson observed him, and
ordered him to get from behind the tree. He did so, and was hit, not
very badly; but, looking at Pinson, he said: "Now,-- you, I hope you
are satisfied." I never will forget the expression of the boy's
face, for he was mad. Our regiment bore the brunt of this fight; in
fact, there was not time to bring another into it.
The
last time I had the pleasure of meeting General Lee he was talking
to me of it, and said we were just a little too soon, for, if the
enemy had gotten a little further from the river, we could have
gotten them all. I hope I may be pardoned the vanity of here
recording another thing he said to me, and that was that he never
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saw me, that he did not think of me again as he saw
me charging at the head of my regiment that day. This was a few
years ago, when I met him in Jackson.
General Lee is too
well known in Mississippi, and, indeed, in all the south, to need a
eulogy at my hands. It is enough to say that he earned and deserved
the high rank he gained in the army, and that since the war he has
been a citizen of the state, without stain and without reproach, and
now has his reward in the love and honor of his people.
This fight ended our operations on that raid, and the
command was withdrawn to the south, and I find by an old letter I
have, that on the 22d of December we were again in the neighborhood
of Jackson, the division being again together under General Jackson,
and encamped on that date near Raymond. General Cosby had been
relieved from the command of the brigade, and Colonel Peter B.
Starke, of the Twentieth Mississippi, as senior colonel, commanded
it.
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CHAPTER XV.
Opening of the year
1864--Gloomy prospects--General Sherman's march through
Mississippi--Skirmish on Joe Davis' place--Sharp skirmish at
Clinton--Jackson driven through place--Enter Meridian--Ordered to
reinforce Forrest--Forrest victorious, and ordered back to follow
Sherman--Fight near Sharon--Scout toward Canton, capturing foraging
party with wagons--Another fight on road from Sharon, with loss--In
camp near Benton--Colonel George Moorman--Colonel Pinson goes home
and marries--Ordered to Georgia--General Frank C. Armstrong in
command of brigade--Letter from him.
The year 1864
opened with rather gloomy prospects for the confederacy, but by no
means hopeless as viewed in the army, for it was still full of
spirit and ready to try the chances of battle whenever and wherever
our leaders saw fit to meet the enemy. It is but the truth, however,
to say we did not often have to seek them, they were pressing us
hard all along the line, from Virginia to Arkansas, and seemed
determined to try and crush the confederate armies before the
presidential election to be held that fall. But in this hope they
were disappointed. Many a bloody battle was yet to be fought, and
many a brave man on both side was yet to fall, before that
disastrous day to the confederate armies should come. The month of
January, 1864, was bitterly cold and of consequence there was
nothing attempted or done by our command not absolutely necessary,
but we were all the time in front of Jackson, from which place to
Meridian the railroad was kept open.
Early in February
the indefatigable Sherman, who had returned from Chattanooga after
having reinforced
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Grant at that place, commenced
his invasion of Mississippi, an invasion which exposed our weakness
in the state, for we had but little to oppose him with but Jackson's
cavalry division. It is true General Polk was in command of the
department and had some forces at Meridian (if there were any in
Jackson I have forgotten it), but they were far too few to risk a
battle with Sherman's splendidly equipped army, superior in numbers
as it was.
Therefore the only reliance was upon the
cavalry to delay and harrass him in his advance, with the hope and
expectation that reinforcements would enable General Polk to give
battle at or near Meridian, in which our division could take part.
When it was known that the enemy had left Vicksburg and were
advancing, our brigade was ordered forward to meet them, and we
first met about ten miles northwest of Clinton, on the old dirt
road, from Vicksburg to Jackson, and on a plantation said to be
owned by General Joe Davis, a relative of the president.
The country was hilly and we had a very good position near
the houses on the place, whosever it was, and the enemy could be
seen across the fields for nearly or quite a mile, before there was
any firing, on either side. It is curious how sometimes memory
brings back little and unimportant things from the past, as it does
to me now about this little skirmish. When the enemy came fairly in
sight on the hill opposite to us they halted, and sending forward a
skirmish line advanced regularly several regiments in line of
battle, evidently not knowing the force we had, which, indeed, only
consisted of three regiments of cavalry with King's battery of
artillery which we had. In front of their line gayly trotting along
as if he enjoyed the fun was a dog, and it looked exactly as if they
were setting him at us. I think till
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we were
obliged to retire as many shots were fired at this dog as at the
enemy, for the boys seemed to take it as a special insult. Whether
this dog was a "mascot" brought by the regiment to which it was
attached from the north or was a "scalawag" who had deserted from
the loyal dogs of the state I cannot tell.
We had a few
hurt in the slight skirmish and one man in the artillery killed, and
got away in good order, falling back to a few miles from Clinton,
being now satisfied that a large force was advancing, for what
special purpose and where to go events were to develop.
At Clinton, the next morning, we had a sharp skirmish with
small loss to us, and unknown loss to the enemy, and fell back to
within a few miles of Jackson with the main body of the command,
leaving a squadron or two to bring up the rear, one I remember from
the First Mississippi, but I do not remember who commanded it.
Something over a mile from the old federal breastworks on the
Clinton road Colonel Starke halted, and formed again, but ordered
Colonel Pinson to fall back to the breastworks, and there again
form. The colonel directed me to carry out the movement, while he
remained to bring up our missing squadron and look after some other
matters. I formed just inside the breastworks, my right resting on
the Clinton road and the left extending nearly to another road
leading into Jackson, and which intersected or joined the Clinton
road just outside the city. I suppose Colonel Starke's purpose was
to have his retreat covered, but I had not been in position long
before I discovered that the enemy was also advancing on the other
road I have spoken of, and I feared that not only would Starke be
cut off, but that I also would be. Still I could not leave without
orders, but pretty soon the firing in the front became quite heavy,
and looking up the road I saw Starke at the head of the command,
coming in a sweeping
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gallop, and at the same time
the enemy began firing on my line from the other road. Starke seemed
to have wholly forgotten me, and I had to call to him as he passed
for orders, which he gave me without stopping, to mount and follow.
It came near being too late for me, for necessarily my command had
to fall in the rear of the column as it passed, in column of fours,
going rapidly but in good order. A few men were wounded in the
regiment but none were killed, but their bullets continued to sing
about us even after we had crossed the railroad and gotten well into
Capitol street. No halt was made, the regiment going through the
city as fast as it could and preserve order. When the head of my
column reached the street west of the governor's mansion, along
which street Colonel Starke had turned, I saw Judge William Yerger,
the greatest lawyer of that family of lawyers, standing on his
sidewalk, and looking anxiously towards the advancing enemy, who by
now were at the railroad. I had no time to stop, but waived my hat
to him as I passed, receiving a greeting in return, for I knew him
well. He was my friend, and I honor and revere his memory, and in
passing pay this tribute to it.
We soon stopped our
headlong race, and got down to a march, but did not halt for some
miles beyond the insane asylum, going into camp, or rather a
bivouac, for the night.
We had seen or heard nothing of
Colonel Pinson or our squadron, and Colonel Starke could tell
nothing about them, for it seemed that when he had been attacked the
day before it had been with such a large force that he had
difficulty in extricating the main body of his command. I feared
some disaster had befallen Pinson, but early in the morning we had a
courier from him, and in the course of the day he joined us without
having lost any men, having made his escape by way of Madison
station.
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The brigade was ordered across the Pearl
river, which we crossed somewhere west of Brandon, and there
crossing the Meridian railroad in advance of the federal column.
We remained on the east of the railroad till we had reached
Meridian, marching parallel, or as nearly so as the roads would
permit with the federals, and without attempting to strike a blow,
so that their march was really unopposed. We entered Meridian, I
think about the eighteenth day of February, passing through, for the
enemy was entering in force by one road, as we came in by another,
and they nearly succeeded in cutting us off. As it was, we passed
through to the northern part of town on the road leading towards
Lauderdale Springs, and here halted and formed to give our artillery
time to move on and out of danger. The enemy attacked us, and we had
a slight loss and retired, but they did not pursue.
General Polk had retired to the Tombigbee river, and was
there reinforced, but he did not advance. A part of General
Sherman's plan had been, that a strong cavalry force should join him
from the northern part of the state, and this was attempted under
the federal Generals Smith and Grierson, but the ubiquitous Forrest
was in his way. We were ordered to reinforce Forrest, and moved
rapidly forward to do it, but after a day or two's march, on the
second day going beyond Macon, learned of his brilliant victory, and
were turned back to harass Sherman on his return to Vicksburg.
Whatever Sherman's ulterior destination may have been, the defeat of
Smith compelled him to change his plans. We moved as fast as we
could and on the first day of March, I find from an old letter
written that day to my wife, we were near Sharon, a little village a
few miles east of Canton. I make some extracts from that letter
describing our operation for a few days.
Page 153
"CAMP NEAR SHARON, March 1st, 1864.
. . ."We have
arrived here and had a little brush day before yesterday with the
enemy. They advanced on our regiment and we fought them awhile,
having four or five horses killed. My horse was hit, but fortunately
not badly hurt, and Doctor Montgomery's horse was killed by a cannon
shot a quarter of a mile in rear of the regiment. The Doctor was on
the horse which was a new one he had just bought."
The
doctor was our brigade surgeon and took a notion he would ride to
the front where the regiment was engaged, but he concluded after he
got there that his business was to cure the wounded and not to be
wounded himself, and so went back, but when he had got back about a
quarter of a mile, the enemy commenced firing artillery down the
road, and the first shot killed his new horse, without injuring him.
To quote again from the letter. . . .
"After
this little affair General Jackson ordered our regiment to make a
scout towards Canton. We started, and avoiding the forces in our
front, struck a road leading north from Canton, and got in about six
miles of that place when we heard of a forage train just ahead of
us. We soon overtook took it and captured nine splendid wagons and
teams, which we brought out safely and with about twenty prisoners
Colonel Pinson sent me with three companies on the right side of the
road while he took the left. They got some wagons across a creek
which Colonel Pinson could not cross on his side of the road, but on
my side I succeeded in crossing, and followed till I came in sight
of a large force drawn up near their camps, when I retired and got
out safely. We were then in two miles of Canton where I think
General McPherson's division is camped. We had one man killed and
one wounded and seven horses killed. The next day which was
yesterday,
Page 154
we again advanced on the Sharon road,
and I was ordered with four companies to support our battery. It
soon was recalled, and the enemy advanced on me with five or six
hundred men and forced me to retire, which I did under a heavy fire,
with five men wounded, two mortally, one of them being Pitt
Davidson, severely, whom you know. We then came to camp, and last
night it rained, and this morning we were ordered out in a very
heavy rain, but soon came back, it appearing that the enemy have
left Canton and gone to Vicksburg or in that direction. I am in
hopes now we will get our trains and get some rest. We have been in
the saddle for twenty-six days without rest, and clear across the
state twice, during which time I have been in five different fights,
or rather five different days, skirmishing or fighting all day."
As the enemy left Canton, we followed and overtook his rear
guards some twenty miles below Moore's Bluff, on the Big Black
river, as I find from a letter written at that place on March the
5th, and Colonel Starke's regiment being in advance had a skirmish
with them with small loss, and inflicting some loss in killed and
wounded on them.
We remained at Moore's Bluff a few
days, and then, at last, being joined by our wagon trains, General
Jackson moved his whole division to a camp near Benton, in Yazoo
county. Here we remained for a month, resting and recruiting our
horses as well as ourselves.
After a week or two,
Colonel Pinson got a leave of absence and went home, and while there
married Miss S. E. Duke, to whom rumor said he had long been
engaged. While at this camp, Colonel George Moorman, now the
efficient adjutant-general of the United Confederate Veterans, and
to whom this organization owes more, perhaps, than to any other one
man, who had long been the adjutant-general of Jackson's division,
was relieved from
Page 155
duty, at his own request, for a
time, at least, because of some trouble with his eyes. This was much
regretted, for his uniform courtesy to officers and men had endeared
him to the command. On leaving, he wrote me a letter which I hope
yet to be able to incorporate with these memoirs, as it was a
general leave-taking of the regiment.
While we were
still at the camp near Benton, General Jackson came over from his
headquarters, and he and Colonel Starke rode through the camps. They
did not stop at my quarters, or pass very near them, though in
sight; but in some part of the camp, not, of course, in my presence
or hearing, some of the men, only a few, I believe, who thought they
could escape detection, hissed at them. I knew nothing of it for
some little time, and then my information came from a friend at
brigade headquarters, and who was with Jackson and Starke on their
ride through camp. This gentleman told me that Colonel Starke told
Jackson that it was due to his (Jackson's) unpopularity that this
insulting conduct had been indulged in, and he said the general
seemed much mortified at it. I at once instituted an inquiry to
locate the guilty men, but, of course, without success. I was
especially annoyed at it, because my relations with the general had
for a long time been of the most formal kind, and I feared he might
think it was due to this that the offense was committed. I therefore
addressed him a letter apologizing to him in the name of the
regiment, as well as expressing my own regret at the occurrence, and
assuring him that the regiment had the highest respect for and
confidence in him, and that whatever was the cause of the misconduct
it was not intended for him.
This letter I sent him by a
special courier, and in a few hours received an answer, which I read
to the regiment that evening at parade, and this closed the matter,
Page 156
and from that time to the close of the war my
relations with the general when we happened to meet were free from
embarrassment, and more cordial than they had been, though never so
much so as they would have been, if he had not treated me as I
thought and all others acquainted with the facts thought unjustly,
as has been before set out. The fact was that the insult was offered
to Colonel Starke, who was extremely unpopular in the brigade at
that time, though his adjutant-general, Frank Valliant, of
Washington county, was very much liked, and was an especial friend
of mine.
I omitted to mention in its proper place that
on our return from Wolfe river, as soon as it was known Adjutant
Beasley had died,--Johnson, orderly sergeant of Captain J. R.
Taylor's company, was promoted to be adjutant, for which important
office he was well fitted.
We left the camp near Benton
early in April, the whole division moving first towards Grenada, and
from that neighborhood in a short time across the state to the
Mobile and Ohio railroad, and shortly to Columbus, where
preparations were made for a long march to Georgia to reinforce the
army of General Johnston.
It was while on this march
from Grenada, and about a day's march from that place, that we
were
joined by that splendid soldier, General Frank C. Armstrong, who now
assumed command of the brigade, and was its commander till the close
of the war.
One of the handsomest men I ever saw, a
graduate, I believe, of West Point, a lieutenant in the federal army
at the commencement of the war, he soon won the confidence of his
command, and to-day he is remembered with affection and pride by his
old command. The following is a letter written to me a few days ago
by him:
Page 157
WOODBURN, VIRGINIA,
Aug. 16, 1900.
COL. F. A. MONTGOMERY, Rosedale, Miss.:
My dear friend--Yours 12th inst. received. I am here for a
few weeks during this very hot spell. I was very glad to hear again
from you, as I always am to be in touch with my old comrades of the
war. In reply, you are correct in the statement that. my first
service with your gallant regiment, First Mississippi, was our raid
around Bolivar, Tenn. I assumed command of the Mississippi brigade
permanently one day's march from Grenada, en route to join General
Johnston's army in Georgia, and remained in command until the end of
the war. After the battle of Chickamauga I went with Longstreet to
East Tennessee, and was applied for by Forrest and Stephen D. Lee,
to be transferred to Mississippi. On my arrival in Mississippi, Lee
assigned me, or was about to do so, to the command of the troops on
the Mississippi river line, with headquarters at Clinton. The same
day orders came to send Jackson's division to Georgia, and I at once
expressed a preference for active service in front of Atlanta. I was
assigned to the old brigade, each regiment of which I had known well
before. Though I gave up a larger command and district, I never
regretted it, as the honor and satisfaction I always had in
commanding that glorious old Mississippi brigade, the First, Second,
Twenty-eighth, and Ballentine's regiment, with King's Missouri
battery, was my pride. Always ready, perfectly reliable, and under
all circumstances and conditions efficient, it was then, and has
always been since, my pride to be remembered as the commander of
such patriotic and heroic men.
In Georgia and on the
advance of Hood into Tennessee, and on the retreat to the Tennessee
river from Nashville, they were always nearest to the enemy, and
they never faltered. Often without rations or forage,
Page 158
and nothing but their determination and honorable sense of duty
to sustain them, they stood their ground, yielding only under
orders. When we returned to Tupelo, you will remember, I with
General Dick Taylor's consent furloughed the brigade, and pledged
myself to him that these regiments would return at the appointed
time better equipped and mounted than when they were furloughed.
They faithfully kept my pledge, and returned in a few weeks better
off and ready for all work. I can truly say that they were always
loyal to their duty and cause and never failed me in a single
instance. My love and respect for you all will only end when I am
dead. If in your book you could embody a roster of the several
regiments of the old brigade it would greatly add to its value, as
you were always so closely connected with their services. Of the old
First Mississippi Cavalry, Colonel Dick Pinson and yourself,
lieutenant-colonel, as well as the company officers and privates,
nothing is too complimentary. My confidence never wavered with the
old First on the line. I hope to see some of my old friends again. I
cannot close without expressing to you, my dear old comrade, the
great satisfaction you always gave me in the discharge of your duty,
as you frequently commanded your regiment. I was some times
temporarily commanding the division and then Pinson would have my
brigade and you the old First Regiment. You both did your duty so
perfectly that I always thought it a pity it could not be
permanently so. I send you a photo taken a few months ago, would you
know it?
Always yours sincerely,
FRANK C. ARMSTRONG.
I know that every member of the old brigade who reads this
letter will be glad to have this greeting from their old commander,
who gave his name to the brigade,
Page 159
and by which it
is known and will be known as long as any of us are left.
Elsewhere in this book will be found his portrait from the
photo he sent me, and few, if any, will recognize the dashing
soldier of thirty-five years ago who led the brigade, though all
will be glad to see that time has dealt gently with him.
Colonel Pinson joined us on our march just before we reached
Columbus, and received the congratulations of all his men upon his
marriage, as well as their sympathy in the necessity which separated
him so soon from his bride.
Page 160
CHAPTER XVI.
March to Georgia--Campaign in Georgia--Join General Johnston at
Adairsville, engaged at once--Letter to my wife from
Cartersville--Constant fighting--General Johnston's battle order,
enthusiasm of troops--Cross the Etowah, brigade in rear-- Fight at
creek--Soldier's dream--Battle of Dallas, assault Federal
intrenchments--Repulsed with severe loss in regiment and
brigade--Letter to my wife describing the battle.
History records that the campaign commenced in both Virginia
and Georgia about the first of May, 1864, and these campaigns were
in fact decisive, though not soon to end, for the Georgia campaign
ended with the capture of Atlanta, four months later, and then
Sherman's triumphant march to the sea; and the Virginia campaign
only ended when the splendid army of Lee, of about sixty-two
thousand men, with which he first met Grant and won his victories,
reduced to a mere handful of about eight or ten thousand ragged and
worn-out veterans, was compelled to evacuate Petersburg, and then a
few days later, at Appomattox, unable either to fight or retreat
further, surrendered.
Of the situation at the
commencement of these campaigns I quote again from General Dick
Taylor's plain-spoken but well and, I think, fairly written book:
"Upon what foundations the civil authorities of the
Confederacy rested their hopes of success, after the campaign of
1864 fully opened, I am unable to say, but their commanders in the
field, whose rank and position enabled them to estimate the
situation, fought simply to afford statesmanship an opportunity to
mitigate the sorrows of inevitable defeat."
Page 161
This may have been true, but all the resources of
statesmanship could never "mitigate the sorrows of defeat" to the
southern soldier if defeat was to come; and, in fact, no attempt at
statesmanship was ever made to end the war, except the
much-talked-of Hampton Roads conference, and the slogan on one side
was "Union" and on the other "Independence." Statesmanship had no
place in the question now; only the generals in the field could
settle it. But if General Taylor was right, and he and other
generals only saw "inevitable defeat" staring us in the face when
this campaign opened, no such feeling existed in the army; fear
there sometimes was, but no doubt yet of ultimate success.
General Jackson's division when it left Columbus to take
part in the Georgia campaign was as full of hope and confidence as
it had ever been, and in all the bloody path it followed from
Adairsville, where we first joined General Johnston, to Atlanta,
when he was removed from the command, and till he was removed, it
never lost it, and even then not wholly. But this is anticipating.
We left Mississippi almost wholly defenseless along its
western border and in the north, save for General Wirt Adams'
cavalry brigade in the south and General Chalmers in the north, with
his headquarters at Oxford, with such troops as he could gather; but
the state had been so completely overrun by both armies that there
was not much at the time to tempt the federals, and besides
everything seemed to wait as with hushed breath the result of the
great campaigns just commencing in Virginia and Georgia.
Our route lay by Tuscaloosa and Monte Vallo, and thence
north, by Talledega and Anniston, straight to Rome, Georgia. This
country had not yet been polluted by the tread of a hostile force,
and few confederate forces had been through it. Its clear, running
streams and
Page 162
beautiful valleys, its lovely towns and
villages, and sometimes it blue-topped mountains, all dwell in my
memory yet. A few days was to bring a rude contrast to these
peaceful scenes.
We reached Rome on the evening of the
15th of May, and went into camp a little east of the town, while
General Ross remained on the west of it. General Jackson was not
with the division, having been in some way disabled, I do not
recollect how, and General Armstrong was in command of the division,
and Colonel Pinson the ranking officer present, in command of the
brigade. Early on the morning of the sixteenth news was received
that a strong cavalry force was approaching Rome from the northwest,
and they soon came into contact with Ross, and I was ordered to take
the First Mississippi to his aid. The enemy retired however, having
found a stronger force than they expected.
That evening
late, we were ordered to move, and we made a forced march all night
long, reaching General Johnston's army a little after daylight on
the morning of the 17th, at Adairsville. We were at once ordered
into action, and from that day till the fall of Jonesboro, on the
first of September, we were incessantly engaged in fighting,
scouting and guarding the left flank and side of the army. I have
looked in vain for some report of the operations of Jackson's
division, but except brief references, I can find nothing. General
Wheeler who commanded the cavalry on the right of the army, has left
an official report of the operations of his command from May 6th to
31st, included, and from July 17th to October 9th, 1864, but only
twice, I believe, does he notice General Jackson's division, and
these times were to give some information sent him by Jackson. The
fact was, these cavalry commands never acted together, but each
retained its position on the right and left of the army
respectively,
Page 163
or on the east and west of the
railroad. In Jackson's division, the whole division seldom were
together, but were often widely separated, so that what I have to
relate of that campaign after we joined the army, is more a detail
(partially) of the operations of Armstrong's brigade than of the
division, and this I regret, for never was a braver brigade than
Ross had, or one more gallantly commanded. It did its full share of
all the work that was done by the division, and there was more than
work enough for us all.
General Johnston in his report
of the operations of his army from December 27th, 1863, to July
17th, 1864, mentions the arrival of the command at Adairsville, and
so does Lieutenant Mackall, aid-de-camp to General Mackall, chief of
staff. But of course no more than slight references could be made.
It is to supply deficiencies of this sort as far as I can, that
these memoirs are written, and I am glad to be able to write and
publish them while there are some still living, who took part in all
the affairs I relate.
I have said that we were ordered
into action as soon as we reached the army, on the morning of the
17th, and this was to reinforce General Wheeler, who at the time was
holding the enemy in check, our position being on his right, but he
was soon forced back, and our brigade retired to the infantry.
Almost immediately we were again ordered forward to support General
Hardee's right, who had moved out to engage the enemy. General
Johnston disposes of this affair in these words: "At Adairsville on
the 17th, Polk's cavalry, under Brigadier General Jackson (General
Armstrong was at the time in command) met the army, and Hardee after
severe skirmishing checked the enemy." I cannot better describe the
part our brigade took in this affair, or indeed all our operations
after we reached Rome, than by quoting from an old
Page 164
letter to my wife, written at Cartersville on the 23rd. I have but
one other letter written from Georgia, and to which in its place I
will refer.
"CAMP NEAR CARTERSVILLE, May 23, 1864.
. . . "I wrote you a long letter from Monte Vallo, Alabama,
which I sent by mail to Macon. Next day after writing we started to
Rome, Georgia, which place we reached after five days' hard
marching. Next morning after we got there, I commenced a letter to
you, to send by mail to Macon, Mississippi, but only wrote a few
lines, when we were ordered into the saddle to meet the enemy
advancing on Rome, and my regiment was ordered to reinforce General
Ross, who was fighting them. I was, and have been since we have been
here, in command of the regiment, Pinson having been in command of
the brigade. The enemy retired from Rome without a fight that day,
but I have been too busy since to write. The next night we were
ordered forward to join General Johnston's army, which was falling
back, and after marching all night, we got to him about sun up next
morning. Our brigade was immediately ordered to the front to
reinforce General Wheeler, who was engaged. We took a post on his
right, but he was soon driven back, and we were ordered to retire.
We had hardly got back to the infantry before we were ordered to
support General Hardee's right, who moved out to engage the enemy,
and for some time a general engagement was imminent. We went forward
at a gallop, and took position with the men dismounted, and fought
the enemy for three hours without giving back an inch. The loss in
the brigade was thirty-one killed and wounded, only one man in my
regiment killed, and two or three wounded. We fought in the woods,
and were greatly protected by them. Starke's regiment, commanded by
Major McBee, fought
Page 165
gallantly and sustained more
loss than any other. They got first into the fight and were somewhat
more exposed. Our brigade gained great credit with the whole army by
the fight, as they were in hearing and sight of it all. That night
(of 17th) the army fell back, and we again marched the whole night
to take a position to protect the movement."
I will
never forget that night's march, nor do I suppose any of the command
ever will. It was the second night we had been in the saddle all
night in succession, with the busy day I have mentioned between, and
never before or since did I feel the torture, of which I have read,
from want of sleep. Many times when, from unavoidable delays in a
night march of a long column of cavalry, in rear of an army falling
back, and there were many such, would I throw myself from my horse
into the road, as did many, and try and snatch a minute's repose.
The morning of the 18th found us at Cassville, where the whole army
was concentrated.
It is somewhere said, "there is no
rest for the wicked," and our cavalry was like the wicked on this
campaign, for we had no rest, and on this day of all others we
needed it so much, but the following quotation from the journal kept
by Lieutenant Mackall, before referred to, shows how we spent the
18th, or a part of it, at least.
CASSVILLE, May 18th.
. . ."Colonel Hannon just reports enemy's cavalry in
force advancing on Fairmount road rapidly and four miles from here.
Armstrong ordered to support of Hannon." . . .
So away
we went again, and were out for some hours with only a slight
skirmish, when we were ordered back. It was high time, for men and
horses were worn out for want of food and rest. We passed in rear of
the infantry, and at last had a chance
Page 166
to unsaddle
and feed our horses and get some rations for ourselves.
I had a splitting headache that night, but a night's sleep
made me all right. Next day our brigade had no important work to do,
but there was heavy firing all along the line, for the enemy had
pressed us closely, and that day, the 19th, General Johnston issued
his celebrated battle order, which was read late in the afternoon to
each regiment in the army. It was received with the greatest
enthusiasm, cheer after cheer could be heard in every direction, and
I wondered what the enemy thought, as they were near enough to hear.
The position of our division was to be on the left of General Polk,
who held the left in the line of battle with his corps, and late in
the evening we marched towards our place, bivouacking about nine at
night on the side of a road, from which at daylight we were to move
to take our place in line.
Spreading my blanket at the
foot of a tree by the road side I was soon asleep, but later was
wakened with the noise of troops passing on the road. I supposed, of
course, they were going to take their places in line and was far too
sleepy to trouble myself about them, so that my surprise may be
imagined when I found in the morning that the army was again falling
back. The whole army was bitterly disappointed, but no one censured
General Johnston, though none knew the reason of his change of plan,
and many do not perhaps to this day.
His own statement
of the cause was this: "Expecting to be attacked I drew up the
troops in what seemed to me an excellent position, a bold ridge
immediately in rear of Cassville, with an open valley before it. The
fire of the enemy's artillery commenced soon after the troops were
formed and continued until night. Soon
Page 167
after dark
Lieutenant-Generals Polk and Hood together expressed to me decidedly
the opinion, formed upon the observation of the afternoon, that the
federal artillery would render their positions untenable the next
day, and urged me to abandon the ground immediately and cross the
Etowah. Lieutenant-General Hardee, whose position I thought weakest,
was confident that he could hold it. The other two officers were so
earnest, however, and so unwilling to depend on the ability of their
corps to defend the ground, that I yielded and crossed the Etowah on
the 20th, a step which I have regretted ever since." This report was
written at Vineville, Georgia, October 20, 1864. I do not see why he
should have regretted declining battle on this occasion, with two
out of three of his corps commanders anticipating defeat before an
attack was made. It is certain, however, that the morale of the army
was at its best, and if he had remained and tried the chances of
battle this might have carried the day, but the risk would have been
great with the doubts held by these two commanders.
As
the army retired the enemy pressed forward rapidly, and our division
was busily occupied on the different roads by which their advance
was being made, as was also General Wheeler, in covering the
movements of the army. There was skirmishing all the time enough to
make it extremely interesting, but we had no great loss, probably
inflicting more on the enemy than we suffered. Once during the day I
was halted at the ford of a creek, and near the ford there was a
railroad bridge with stone abutments and pretty good sized
embankment, which I thought would enable me to make a good stand,
and I dismounted the men and sent my horses back to a wood, which
would afford them shelter, some two or three hundred yards across an
open field.
We were hardly ready for them before they
came on,
Page 168
but, as they were exposed, a sharp volley
checked them, and drove them back to shelter, and then commenced a
lively fusilade at long range, till they brought up artillery, and I
was forced to retire. Some way or another, a report got back to the
ambulances which were with the horses that I was badly wounded, and
our assistant surgeon, Dr. Perrell, came across the exposed field as
fast as his horse could run, but fortunately I had not been hit, and
he escaped, though it was almost miraculous that he did, for this
little open field was swept by the bullets which were fired at us at
the bridge. But the doctor was a dear friend of mine, a good surgeon
and a brave soldier, and he would have run a greater risk to aid me,
if he thought I needed it. He had gone out as a private, as did many
other young physicians, at the beginning of the war, and was from
Lafayette county, where a few years after the war he died. I kept
him with me at the bridge till I retired, and then, by availing
myself of the railroad embankment, we got to our horses, with only a
few wounded, and none badly. I don't know whether it will interest
my readers, but it is of supreme interest to me, and I will quote
again from the Cartersville letter, from which I have already made
some extracts:
". . . Next day, General Johnston issued
a battle order, and we all expected a great fight to come off, but
in the night he again fell back this side of the Etowah, where we
now are, and where, if the enemy crosses, he will doubtless fight. I
fought the Yankees all day yesterday--the last day's retreat to this
place--had only a few horses and men wounded, but I can't give you
any description of the fights. . . .I am in hopes the main battle
will soon come off, as I have to fight and be exposed almost every
day anyhow, and the sooner it comes off, the better for me. The army
is in fine spirits, and have the most unbounded confidence in their
general.
Page 169
. . . I had a real soldier's dream the
other night of wife and children and home, but, like the soldier in
the song,
'Sorrow returned with the
dawning of morn
And the voice in my
dreaming ear melted away.'
". . . I firmly believe, that
if we continue successful a few months longer, the war will close
this year, and, as God has hitherto protected me so long amid so
many dangers, I trust it is not presumption in me to hope for his
protection to the end." . . . It is a little curious to me that,
though constantly falling back, I thought then that we were
successful. I suppose it must have been that, so far as the mere
fighting was concerned, we always held our own, as General
Armstrong, in his letter, says, never "yielding except under
orders," and for another reason, that the confidence in General
Johnston was so great that we all felt that he would at last crush
Sherman's army, and I believe he would have done it, if he had not
been removed from the command. Besides, I made it a rule always to
write home cheerfully, for it was had enough there anyway without
the apprehension of defeat.
On the afternoon of the 23d,
the day my letter was written, our brigade was ten or twelve miles
to the west of Cartersville, observing the enemy, who that evening
crossed the Etowah at Stilesborough, of which General Johnston was
duly apprised, as appears from his report "that Jackson's troops
reported enemy moving down Etowah, which they crossed at
Stilesborough on 23d." Our brigade fell back slowly, and on the 25th
found ourselves in rear and to the left of General Hood's corps,
which had its center at New Hope Church, and where a desperate
assault was made late that evening, with a bloody repulse to the
enemy, whose loss was estimated at three thousand killed and
wounded, and our loss about
Page 170
four hundred and fifty.
This battle lasted about two hours, and we were in full hearing of
the horrid roar of the guns without taking any part, for we had
other duties assigned to us. On the 26th we moved still farther to
the left, and on the 27th another fierce assault was made on
Cleburne's division, with about the same loss to the enemy and to
us. Generals Polk and Hardee had fallen back a little south of
Dallas, where the enemy had arrived on the 25th, and had intrenched.
I take these figures and dates from General Johnston's report before
alluded to. On the morning of the 28th of May we--our brigade under
General Armstrong, for General Jackson was now in command of his
division--were in rear of the left of General Polk's corps, which
had its left intrenched in front of the enemy before Dallas. General
Johnston disposes of the events of that day by saying, the "usual
skirmishing was kept up." Armstrong's brigade did not consider it a
skirmish in which late in the day they were engaged, nor was it, as
the account will show. While resting quietly about half a mile in
rear of our works and listening to the incessant rattle of small
arms with the occasional bursting of shells, sometimes in the
tree-tops over our heads, General Armstrong received an order to
leave only his horse-holders and move his brigade up and occupy the
trenches on the left which had been vacated by a brigade of infantry
moved to some other point. We did not reach the trenches without
having a few wounded, for the enemy's fire of small arms was
constant, and we had to cross an open field to get to our place.
Once there, we were safe enough if we kept under the shelter of the
works, but several men were wounded and one killed by incautiously
exposing himself. Colonel Pinson went to where Armstrong was, near
the center of the brigade (we were on its right), and as I saw
nothing to do, I walked carefully along the works to a battery on a
hill just a
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little ways off, and where the left of
General Bates' division rested. In our front was thick woods, and
though the enemy's works were not more than two hundred yards away,
we could not see them, and this I hoped to be able to do from this
hill where the battery was. I stopped a moment to look through an
embrasure at the battery, and a half dozen minie-balls hissed
viciously by my head, and I quickly got behind the fortification.
One of the artillery men said to me, "You made a narrow escape; I
have seen several men killed and wounded at that place." If he had
warned me beforehand it would have been more to the purpose. I
caught, however, a good look at a part of their works, which seemed
very strong, and I had no doubt were well manned. I returned in a
few minutes to the regiment, taking good care as I passed the
embrasure, and a little later Colonel Pinson came back and informed
me General Armstrong had received an order from General Bates, at a
given signal (a cannon-shot) to assault the enemy's works on our
front. He said, further, that General Bates was of the opinion that
the enemy had only a skirmish line in the works, and that his
division would advance as we did. I told Pinson what I had seen, and
that I was satisfied the enemy were in their works in force, for it
was certain they had artillery, but, of course, we were powerless,
and had nothing to do but obey. It was late in the afternoon when
the shot came, and the whole brigade with a cheer scaled the works
and dashed forward. I felt we were going to a useless slaughter of
brave men, for if there was only a skirmish line it would be
withdrawn at night, but if the enemy were in force nothing but
disaster could come of the assault. I copy from the last letter
written from Georgia home which was received and has escaped
destruction, written the next day, and briefly describing the
battle:
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"CAMP NEAR DALLAS, GEORGIA, May 29,
1864.
". . . This place is about thirty miles
northwest of Atlanta, and our army is drawn up in line of battle
from here to the railroad at Marietta, about fifteen miles east. I
wrote to you some days ago from near Cartersville, some twenty-five
miles north of here. The enemy flanked our position there, and
General Johnston threw his army in their front here. There has been
constant skirmishing for some days, with occasionally a desperate
battle on some part of the line, but as yet nothing decisive. Both
armies are in line of battle and fortified only a few hundred yards
apart. Minie balls, shot and shell are continually flying, even over
our camps a short distance in rear of the works. On yesterday our
brigade was in the breast-works, occupying the extreme left of our
army. The enemy were only a few hundred yards from us, and we were
ordered at a given signal to scale the works and advance, and it was
understood a division of infantry on our right was to advance at the
same time. Our regiment occupied the right of our brigade next to
the infantry. The signal was given and over and at them we went,
driving them into their works and capturing a battery. The infantry
on our right failed to move forward, and we were compelled to retire
and leave the guns and our gallant dead and some of the wounded on
the field. We brought off some prisoners, and killed a good many
Yankees, but lost some of our best officers and men. The gallant and
chivalrous captain of the Bolivar troop, Captain Herrin, fell dead
at the head of his company, and right at the enemy's guns. Two men
of his company, brave soldiers. Bishop and Reneau, were killed at
his side. Will. Montgomery, Charley Jones and Barnet were wounded,
but we brought them off; some others of my old company were hit, but
not badly hurt. We lost besides in the regiment Captain Turner, of
Pontotoc,
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mortally wounded (he died a day or two
later), and Captain Lester, dangerously, and about twenty men killed
and wounded in the regiment.
"The other regiments in the
brigade suffered about equally in the loss of officers and men.
Captain Clanton, of Starke's regiment, who was in Bolivar, and whom
you knew, was killed. Two field, officers of my rank in the brigade,
were wounded, one reported mortally. . . . If the infantry had
advanced, we could have held their works and would probably have
taken several hundred prisoners. We were relieved from the
breast-works a little while ago and are now camped about half a mile
from them, having lain on them all night." . . .
Our
charge was down one hill and up another in front of the First
Mississippi, the enemy's battery being on the crest of the hill and
in our immediate front. Just behind it were strong works literally
filled with soldiers, and it was impossible to hold what we had
gained.
We got back to our own works and reoccupied
them, momentarily expecting and indeed hoping to be assaulted in our
turn, as we felt sure we could repulse any attack made on us. But
the enemy contented themselves with heavy firing of small arms and
cannon till it was after dark, and in fact all through the night it
was more or less heavy.
I always thought and still think
"somebody blundered." I know it was not General Armstrong, who led
his brigade and was in the thick of the fight. Three or four days
after this letter was written, we found their works abandoned, and
Pinson sent a detail to recover the bodies of our dead. Captain
Herrin and the two men of his company were found in a shallow grave
at the place where they fell, and were given a more decent burial,
as were the other dead of the regiment and brigade. A decent burial
meant deeper graves, so that their bones
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might lie
undisturbed till they had all crumbled into dust, and become a part
of that earth from which it is said they once had come.
We reached General Johnston at Adairville, on the 17th, and
this battle was fought on the 28th, twelve days of continuous
skirmishing, and at times severe fighting as related, and this was
our brigade's introduction to that army and to that general, upon
whom it seemed to me then and seems to me now, the hopes of the
confederacy rested.
Page 175
CHAPTER XVII.
Lost
Mountain, constant fighting--General Polk killed, regret at at his
death--Armstrong's scout to the rear, destroys railroad and captures
prisoners--Returns to army and orders me to remain twenty four hours
in his rear--Escape without loss-- Mississippi lady refugee refuses
forage--Compelled to take it-- Back to camp--Cross Chattahooche
river, and ordered to intercept cavalry raid near Newman--General
Johnston relieved, and General Hood in command--Regret, almost
despair, in the army--General Dick Taylor's account of trouble
between Mr. Davis and General Johnston--Brigade ordered to Atlanta,
regiment ordered to battle-ground of 22d of July.
When
the enemy withdrew from our immediate front, about the second of
June, it was because they were gradually extending their line in
front of our right flank, and now began a game of strategy between
those two great masters of the art of war, Johnston and Sherman, in
which the one with a greatly superior force, was to succeed in
forcing the other back to Atlanta. This game was to continue more
than a month after our affair at Dallas, and every day there was
heavy skirmishing varied now and then by severe assaults on our
works. Thousands on both sides lost their lives, and all this time
our cavalry remained on the left of the army, and there was scarcely
a day in which we also were not engaged with some though generally
light loss.
The enemy had a well-equipped cavalry force
of about fifteen thousand, as estimated by General Johnston, and our
division did not, I think, number more than four thousand men, so
that we on the left as well as General Wheeler on the right, were
busy all the time in watching
Page 176
and resisting the
incessant movements of their cavalry to keep them from getting
behind our army. They were bold and daring, and gave us much
trouble, but no serious engagement that I can recall took place, in
which our cavalry was engaged during the month of June, though as I
have said, we were all the time busy. On the 5th of June our brigade
was at Lost Mountain, and from its top we had a good view of the
enemy, and at its base a skirmish with them.
On the 14th
of June, General Polk was killed, and his death was a great loss to
the army and to our cause. Not only was he a brave soldier, but he
was a competent commander, and it was believed, and I think it was
true, that he had a well deserved influence with President Davis.
They had been, as I remember, class-mates at West Point, and were
more than that, for they were warm personal friends, and it may be
if he had lived he might have prevented that serious disaster to our
army, the removal of General Johnston, and it is certain he would
have tried to do it. He had entered the army at Mr. Davis' personal
request, so it was said, when he first came to Columbus to assume
command there, where I had the honor to make his personal
acquaintance, and I formed the highest opinion of his character as a
man, and his ability as a soldier. I always associated General Polk
in my mind, with Bishop Compton of England, who assisted the
princess, afterwards Queen Anne, in making her escape from London to
join the Prince of Orange, after he had landed in England. Macaulay
says of this fighting bishop, that "he wholly laid aside for the
time his sacerdotal character. Danger and conflict had rekindled in
him all the military ardor which he had twenty-eight years before,
when he rode in the Life Guards. He preceded the princess' carriage
in a buff coat and jackboots, with a sword at his side and pistols
in his holsters."
Page 177
So with General Polk,
when danger threatened his country, the military ardor engendered by
his education at West Point revived, and he gave up his holy calling
for one he deemed as sacred, and to which he became a martyr. I
recall that on the day before he was killed, Colonel Pinson had
spent the day at his headquarters, and on his return to his regiment
in the evening, he told me that General Polk had told him he
intended to recommend his promotion to the rank of brigadier
general, and there is no doubt if General Polk had lived a little
while longer, this well earned promotion would have been given to
one of the best of all the cavalry colonels in the service. A man
who knew no fear, who shirked no duty, who sought no soft places,
but always roughed it with his men. But it is not yet time to speak
of Pinson as he deserves, but I hope to find a place to do it.
The enemy had repaired the bridge across the Etowah river,
which we had destroyed, and had, it was said, established, or was
about to do so, a depot of supplies at Alatoona, some twenty-five or
thirty miles north of Kennesaw Mountain, where our line was from the
19th of June till about the 2nd of July, the enemy intrenched as
usual close to our line. Some time in the last days of June, General
Armstrong was ordered to take a detachment from his brigade, and to
cut the railroad between the Etowah and Alatoona. I think about
twenty-five men from each company in the brigade were ordered to
take five days' cooked rations and prepare to go, care being taken
to select those men whose horses were in best condition. I was
directed to take command of the detachment from my regiment. No one
knew, of course, the object of the move, or where we were going,
except the commanding officers from each regiment, as it was of the
last importance to the object of the expedition that we should get
into the rear of the federal army without
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it being
known, otherwise we would certainly have been followed, and perhaps
compelled to return. By moving directly west for some miles, and
then suddenly turning north, Armstrong succeeded in getting entirely
in rear of the federals, and soon too far away to be overtaken
before we could strike the railroad. Whether we could get out
afterwards was another matter; it was time enough to think of that
when it became necessary. We passed, I remember, through the old
battle ground of the 25th at New Hope Church, and to our
astonishment, every tree between the lines (they were all oak of
good size) was dead, killed by the inumerable bullets, which had hit
them, it seemed to me, from the top to the bottom. Passing as
rapidly as possible onwards, we finally struck the railroad a little
north of Alatoona, dispersing a force of infantry and some cavalry,
and capturing about forty prisoners, without loss on our side.
Armstrong's force was eight or nine hundred men, and he found that
Alatoona was too strongly garrisoned to be successfully attacked. He
had no artillery on this raid. He, therefore, destroyed the railroad
as much as possible, and then moved with the prisoners to the west
for some miles, and there bivouacked for the night. For forage we
had been compelled to depend on the wheat fields, of which there
were many, and the wheat was in good condition for forage. We fully
expected, after we had stirred them up, to be attacked by a large
force, but I suppose their cavalry must have been nearly all at the
front, for we saw nothing of them. Here, on the third day since we
had left the army, while moving back, I was ordered by General
Armstrong to halt and remain with my command for twenty-four hours.
He moved on with the balance of the detachment and prisoners, while
I made the best disposition I could to resist an attack, if one was
made, placing Captain Montgomery, who had succeeded to the
Page
179
command of Herrin's company, with his company on picket,
while I moved the balance of my command about half a mile further
on, and there halted. I never had any doubt but that I would be
attacked, but for some reason the enemy did not find us. Perhaps
they did not have the necessary cavalry force in that vicinity,
which I suppose was the true reason, or they thought we had gotten
too far away to be overtaken. The night was a long one, and not much
sleep, but the next day till my twenty-four hours were up was much
longer, but at last the time came when I could move, and I gladly
did so. It was early in the afternoon when I started back to the
army, and I determined to put as much space as possible between the
dangerous place where I had made my halt and my camping place for
the night. I had taken a different route back, and sent a detail
with the advance guard to look out for forage on the way, as our
horses needed corn badly. After marching some miles I found my
detail had halted at a corn crib on the roadside and near a
neat-looking farm house.
They told me there was a lady
at the house who refused to let them have any corn, and as the crib
was locked they had waited for me. I went up to the house myself,
and saw the lady and explained to her the necessity I was under of
taking corn enough to feed our horses, but she would not give me the
key, and I was obliged to have the house broken into and the corn
taken anyway. There were several hundred bushels in the crib, and a
fine wheat-field in front of the house, so I had the less scruple in
taking her corn. This lady, I remember, was from Mississippi, a
widow, and had run away to escape federal raids in her own state;
and now one of her own fellow-citizens was to levy tribute upon her.
I do not now remember what county she was from or her name, though
she told me both. I gave her a statement
Page 180
showing
that I had taken her corn against her will, so that if the federals
should find her they could not accuse her of having voluntarily
given it to us, of which she seemed to be in great terror, and this
I suspect was her reason for not unlocking her door. Up to that time
no federals had found her, for fortunately she was off the main line
of the advance and our retreat. I had each man take a good feed for
his horse, and then kept on till dark, when, finding a good place
with water, I halted for the night. That night, with good men on
picket, we slept soundly, for I began now to believe we would get
safely back to our command, even if we had to have a brush with the
enemy.
Next morning, bright and early, I was on the way,
and did not halt till noon, when I halted in a valley to rest. Of
course I had pickets out on all the roads, but just on one side of
our halting-place was a high hill and woods, and I had not thought
it necessary to place any sentinels in that direction. I lay down on
a log and went to sleep, and while I was sleeping there came a
rattling peal of thunder. I had dropped off to sleep wondering if by
any chance there might be any enemy in that wood, and thinking if
there were what a surprise they would give us by firing a volley,
when this peal of thunder came, and I sprang to my feet, believing
it was true, and that we were surprised, and only recovered at the
laughter of the boys, who at once divined that I had taken the
thunder for an attack from the woods.
It was raining
hard, and had rained, I believe, every day and night through the
month of June, which I attributed to the incessant cannonading and
firing of small arms. Before that time, I had heard, it never rained
at night in June, but night or day was all the same; it rained all
the time, and as we had no tents we had to take it.
Page 181
I reached the camp late that evening, astonished that we
got back so easily. But we did not get back to rest, for the enemy
was now extending his right, so that now, on the 1st of July, or on
the 2d, General Johnston says Sherman's right was nearer to Atlanta
than our left, and was threatening the railroad bridge and Turner's
ferry. These places had been for some time defended by a division of
Georgia state troops under Major-General Smith, who, on the 1st of
July, were ordered forward to support our division, which was
resisting the enemy's advance on our extreme left. General Smith
only had about fifteen hundred men, and on the 4th of July he
reported to General Johnston that he would be compelled to withdraw
to his intrenchments at the railroad bridge, and, of course, this
necessitated the withdrawal of our division also. We had been
constantly engaged from the 1st to the 5th, with more or less loss
every day, but I cannot recall the number or any names. Our fights
were without intrenchments, and if any reports of our losses were
ever made I have never seen them, and, as will be seen later,
General Johnston says he did not know. Our division crossed the
Chattahoochee river on the night of the 5th, and at the same time
General Wheeler crossed the river above, some twenty miles from us.
We were guarding the river for some twenty miles below
Atlanta, but the enemy though they had strongly threatened, did not
cross on our front, but two corps crossed at Powers' ferry, some
twenty miles northeast of Atlanta, and on the 9th, General Johnston
withdrew his infantry and artillery to the south side of the river.
We were not quiet long in our command, as will be seen from this
extract from General Johnston's report. "On the 14th, a division of
federal cavalry crossed the river by Moore's bridge near Newnan, but
was driven back by Armstrong's brigade, sent by Brigadier General
Jackson
Page 182
to meet it." Newnan is about forty miles
southwest of Atlanta on the railroad leading to West Point, and the
enemy's object was to cut this road, of the last importance to us
while we could hold Atlanta. We made a forced march and succeeded in
intercepting them before they reached the railroad, and though they
had a division, we drove them back across the river with but little
loss to us, and not much, though some, to them. We destroyed this
bridge, and General Armstrong remained in the vicinity of Newnan a
few days observing them, and waiting for orders.
On the
morning of the 19th of July, I am sure of the date, for I can never
forget the occasion, Colonel Pinson received an order to move the
regiment out as soon as possible, and leaving me to do this, he rode
to Armstrong's quarters. I had just got the regiment in marching
order and moved it to the road when he returned and said, "General
Johnston has been removed from the command of the army." I said
surely you are mistaken, but he told me he had just seen at
headquarters an order signed J. B. Hood, General. There was no doubt
about it. We were moving, I learned, to intercept the same division
of cavalry we had already defeated, and who were supposed to be
making a dash for West Point. We marched all day and all night, and
I will never forget the gloom of that march. I felt that our cause
was at its crisis, that our only hope had been in Johnston, the
alacrity with which he had been obeyed, the supreme confidence the
army had in him, the great skill he had displayed in keeping so long
at bay a greatly superior force, the loss he had inflicted on that
force, ably commanded as it certainly was, and the small loss
comparatively he had sustained, never losing in his retreat to
Atlanta, a wagon or an ambulance, much less a gun, all showed him to
be, I thought, and this was the general, I may say the
Page 183
universal, sentiment in the army, one of the few really great
commanders we had, and if the history of this campaign is ever
fairly and fully written, this will be his place.
He
says in his report, "On the 17th, the main body of the federal army
crossed the Chatahoochee between Roswell and Powers' ferry. At 10 P.
M., while I was giving Lieutenant Colonel Presstman, chief engineer,
instructions in regard to his work of the next day on the
fortifications of Atlanta, a telegram was received from General
Cooper, informing me by direction of the secretary of war, that as I
had failed to arrest the advance of the enemy to the vicinity of
Atlanta, and expressed no confidence that I could defeat or repel
him, I was relieved from the command of the army and department of
Tennessee, which would immediately be turned over to General Hood.
This was done at once." After going on to state that in turning over
the command to General Hood, he had explained to him his plans, he
says of his army when it was turned over, "These troops who had been
for seventy-four days in the immediate presence of the enemy,
laboring and fighting daily, enduring toil, exposure and danger with
equal cheerfulness, more confident and high spirited than when the
federal army presented itself near Dalton, were then inferior to
none who ever served the confederacy. "
This was
literally true, as was well known to every soldier in the army, and
admitted by all save one, the last who ought to have denied it. But
at the right place I will let him speak for himself. I myself, when
sometimes passing through ranks of infantry just before we crossed
the Chattahoochee, often heard such expressions as, "We will follow
old Joe to the Gulf of Mexico and back." Indeed, the confidence of
the army in General Johnston was wonderful, and was only equaled
during
Page 184
the war by the devotion which Lee's men felt
for him. It may be that we of lesser rank than some of the great
commanders in the army, and the men of the rank and file, were
incapable of truly estimating General Johnston's abilities; but at
least we knew in whom we trusted, and want of confidence in a
commander is a sure presage of disaster.
Whatever was
the real cause of General Johnston's removal, I am sure it was not
because of any prejudice, if he had any, against him in the mind of
President Davis, as too many thought and said. He was too great a
man, and had too much at stake. It must be remembered that of all
the men of the confederacy Mr. Davis had the most at stake. Failure
meant not only ruin to the cause he loved, but disaster to his own
great fame, for upon his devoted head was to be poured out all the
reproaches, for a time at least, not only of his enemies, but of
many who ought to have been his friends, more loyal in defeat than
if success had crowned his efforts and his hopes. He could not,
brave soldier though he had been and would gladly have been again,
even have the comfort of knowing that he had exposed his own life to
danger on the battlefield with his devoted friends and followers. It
was said at the commencement of the war, and I have no doubt it was
true, that Mr. Davis preferred and even desired the command of the
army in the field rather than the presidency, but this could not be,
for all eyes turned to him, and no other man could in his place have
done more or better, none I believe so well.
It is
certain General Johnston had enemies in his own army who lost no
chance to do him harm if they could with the president and widen the
breach between them. The disagreement between these two great men,
both so necessary to the cause to which both were devoted, began,
according to General Dick Taylor, himself an eminent
Page 185
soldier and a brother-in-law of the president, in the fall of
1861. I quote from him:
"As the autumn of the year 1861
passed away, the question of army reorganization pressed for
solution, while divergent opinions were held by the government at
Richmond and General Johnston. The latter sent me to President
Davis, to explain his views and urge their adoption. My mission met
with no success, but in discharging it I was made aware of the
estrangement growing up between these eminent persons, which
subsequently became 'the spring of woes unnumbered.' An earnest
effort made by me to remove the cloud, then 'no greater than a man's
hand,' failed, though the elevation of the character of the two men,
which made them listen patiently to my appeals, justified hope. Time
but served to widen the breach. Without the knowledge and despite
the wishes of General Johnston, the descendants of the ancient
dwellers in the cave of Adullam gathered themselves behind his
shield, and shot their arrows at President Davis and his advisers,
weakening the influence of the head of the cause for which all were
struggling."
Again, in speaking of the character of
General Johnston, and of his services in the Georgia campaign, he
says, "Certainly no more egregious blunder was possible than that of
relieving him from the command in front of Atlanta. If he intended
to fight there he was entitled to execute his plan. Had he abandoned
Atlanta without a struggle, his removal would have met the approval
of the army and public, an approval which, under the circumstances
of its action, the Richmond government failed to receive. . . .
Destiny willed that Davis and Johnston should be brought into
collision, and the breach once made was never repaired. Each
misjudged the other to the end."
General Johnston
reported his entire loss in the campaign
Page 186
till he
was removed at about ten thousand killed and wounded, and
forty-seven hundred from all other causes, chiefly sickness, but
this does not include the losses in the cavalry, for he expressly
says, "For want of reports I am unable to give the loss, or the
services of the cavalry, which was less under my eye than the rest
of the army." The enemy's loss he reports, from reports to him, at
five times as great as his own, and this, I think, was a
conservative estimate. In fact, from Adairsville to the Chatahoochee
was one continued battle field, and no pen can adequately describe
it. He transferred to General Hood forty-one thousand infantry and
artillery and ten thousand cavalry on the 17th of July, and we will
see before I close what was left of it six months later.
Since I began these memoirs, some friend, perhaps the
author, has sent me a neat pamphlet published by the Greenwood
Publishing Company, from Greenwood, Mississippi, entitled the
"Recollections of 'A Pine Knot' in the Lost Cause."
The
author is Mr. J. M. Miller, a private in that splendid regiment, the
Twentieth Mississippi, and it is extremely interesting to old
soldiers like myself, and I wish that more old soldiers from the
ranks would tell their own story, as he has done. As I have quoted
from some of the officers of high rank about General Johnston, so I
will from what Mr. Miller says, for he was one of the men that held
the works from Dalton to Atlanta, and knows whereof he speaks. "I am
not saying boastingly, but I know something of the Atlanta, or
hundred days' campaign. I was on every picket that my time came, and
that seemed often; was in every skirmish and battle, and did not
miss a roll call on the campaign. When not in the ranks I was on the
scout, many times in the enemy's lines. Most likely there were men
that went in droves that did more than I did, but I know with one
accord
Page 187
the officers and soldiers of the army of
Tennessee held General Johnston in highest esteem, and in whom they
had implicit confidence." He further says that the removal of
General Johnston "was as unexpected as a peal of thunder from a
cloudless sky."
I have already mentioned
Lieutenant-Colonel W. N. Brown, of this brave regiment, as going
from Bolivar county as captain of the McGehee Rifles.
Some of the brave men of this command are still living in
the county, honored and prominent citizens. As I write I recall but
three names. W. C. Boyd, J. L. Wrenn and W. N. Shepherd, now living.
But this digression is proving too long.
Our all day and
all night march ended near Lagrange, and there Armstrong halted. We
soon learned that the enemy had turned back without attempting to
reach West Point, probably because he knew we would be in a
situation to cut off his retreat if he got so far away from his
base, and after resting a few days we were ordered back to the army
at Atlanta.
We did not reach that place till the bloody
battle of the 22nd of July, on the right of our army, had been
fought, I think about the 24th.
But though tired and
worn out with constant fighting and long marches, we were not yet to
rest, for Colonel Pinson was ordered to go into Atlanta and report
to General Hood. In passing through we halted in front of General
Hood's quarters, a large two-story frame house, while Pinson went in
to see him.
When he came out he told me he was ordered
to move through the city to the battle ground of the 22nd, and on
that ground that night we went into camp.
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CHAPTER XVIII.
Want of confidence in General Hood--His opinion of
the infantry of his army--His opinion of his cavalry--Fearful sights
on battle-ground of 22d July--Skirmishes in cornfield--Ordered back
to left of army, rejoin Armstrong--Enemy advances on Lick Skillet
road--Ordered with part of regiment to extreme left--Attack on my
command--Driven back--Advance of General Lee's corps--Battle of 28th
of July--Severe loss--Federal raids to our rear--Fight with
Kilpatrick--Back to the left of army--General Sherman's move to our
left--Constant fighting, fall back to Jonesboro--Occupy trenches,
first assault of enemy repulsed--Loss of Jonesboro and evacuation of
Atlanta.
In the army, General Hood was regarded as among
the "bravest of the brave," but the same confidence was not felt in
his ability to command an army as there was in his courage or
ability to command his corps. This a few weeks or even a few days
might have remedied, if he could have achieved some brilliant
success, or even without this, if he had known how to inspire
confidence. But, succeeding as he did a commander like Johnston, he
had a difficult task before him.
But, unfortunately,
General Hood seemed to have as little confidence in his men as they
had in him. I quote from his book, "Advance and Retreat":
"My failure, on the 20th and 22d, to bring about a general
pitched battle arose from the unfortunate policy pursued from Dalton
to Atlanta, and which had wrought such demoralization amid rank and
file as to render the men unreliable in battle. I cannot give a more
forcible, though homely, exemplification of the morale of the troop,
at that period, than by comparing the army to a
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team which has been allowed to balk at every hill--one portion will
make strenuous efforts to advance, while the other will refuse to
move, and thus paralyze the exertions of the first. Moreover, it
will work faultlessly one day and stall the next. No reliance can be
placed upon it at any stated time."
With the men without
that supreme confidence in their commander which an army must have
to insure success, and with a commander who believed his men
demoralized by the tactics of his predecessor, who had been relieved
only a few days before, what hope was there for that army?
General Hood speaks in different terms of the cavalry, which
he compliments at the expense of the infantry. I quote again from
his book:
"The severe handling by Wheeler and Iverson of
the troops under Stoneman and McCook, together with Jackson's
success, induced me not to recall Wheeler's four thousand five
hundred men, who were still operating against the railroad to
Nashville. I had, moreover, become convinced that our cavalry was
able to successfully compete with double their number. Fortunately,
they had not become demoralized upon the retreat, in consequence of
their habit of dismounting and fighting at one point to-day, then
remounting and hastening in another direction to encounter the enemy
on the morrow."
But I will cease to quote further on
this subject from the book written by this brave but unfortunate
soldier, which ought never to have been published, and, perhaps,
would not have been, if he had lived a little while longer, for, if
I recollect rightly, it was not published till after his death, and
then for the benefit of his children. At least, a re-reading after
he had written it would, I am sure, have resulted in a different
tone towards the brave men who stood by him so loyally, so many
thousands of
Page 190
whom lost their lives under his
command. No braver men ever gave battle than the infantry which
Johnston turned over to Hood, and, if they became demoralized, it
was after he took the command; and, if they were demoralized,
strange they fought so bravely on the 22d and 28th of July. They
deserve the highest praise, instead of blame, for their gallant
conduct on every field where he led them to battle, and if they did
not always win it was because the odds were too great. This much I
have desired to say in speaking of General Hood.
Our
regiment remained on the battle ground of the 22d for several days,
and the sight was a fearful one. Dead horses lay in all directions,
and the dead of both armies had been hastily buried in shallow
trenches, and were scarcely covered, for here and there arms, legs
and sometimes heads could be seen, and the whole face of the earth
was covered with swarms of green flies, and they so annoyed us in
camp that it was almost impossible to prepare and eat our food.
But the position was regarded important, and we had to hold
it. I do not think there was then any enemy in our front except
cavalry, their infantry having been withdrawn, because they were
then extending their right flank. With this cavalry we several times
came into contact, but no serious engagement occurred. Forage was
scarce and hard to get and there was a cornfield of considerable
size between us, and was in fact, a sort of neutral ground, for both
sides foraged in it, and several times each side had to fight for
what it could get. Our men got their share, but it was not long
before the supply gave out and we had to look elsewhere for what we
could get. Early on the morning of the 28th, we were relieved from
this unpleasant position and ordered to rejoin our brigade. We found
the brigade, as I remember, on the Lick Skillet road (I recall the
name of the road by
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reading General Hood's report),
a road leading slightly northwest from Atlanta. The brigade under
Armstrong moved a few miles out on this road, to take a position to
resist the advance of the enemy, who were, it was said, moving to
occupy the road. The road as I remember, as far as we went, was on a
ridge through an open country, with woods here and there on each
side at a little distance. Our regiment was in front, and when we
had nearly reached a road leading at right angles, running down to a
valley, I was ordered to take three or four companies and relieve a
command of Georgia state troops who were posted in the woods in this
valley. At that time none of our infantry were in sight, and there
was no firing in front. I found the Georgia troops posted on the
edge of a skirt of woods with a small field in front of them, about
two hundred yards wide, and woods on the other side which extended I
do not know how far. I inquired of the officer in command if he knew
anything of where the enemy were, and he said he did not, that
everything had been quiet, since he had been on that post. He
further told me that he had no videttes in the woods across the
field, which was very negligent, and as soon as they had left and I
could make the proper disposition, I sent, or rather started a
picket over the field. They got about half way when they were fired
on, and before they could get back to me, the woods on the other
side were full of bluecoats, who seemed to be advancing in line of
battle with skirmishers in front, who however halted awhile at the
fence on the other side. We did not yield the post without a show of
resistance, for it at once occurred to me that this was an advance
in force, for as far as I could see to my right, the enemy were
advancing, and from the noise made which I could hear at a greater
distance than I could see, I was sure there was a large force. It
was therefore necessary to make as good a fight as I
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could to delay the advance, and to give warning to the rest of
the brigade which I knew could not be far from me on my right,
though up to that time I heard no firing in the direction I supposed
it to be. I was on the extreme left as I knew, of any force we had
at the time on the Lick Skillet road, and as far as I could judge at
the time or afterwards, was engaged with the extreme right of the
advancing enemy.
After a brisk skirmish, I soon found
that I had an army to contend with, and began to withdraw, but I
discovered that I could not reach the country cross-road I have
spoken of, so as to rejoin the command where I had left it, for the
firing now extended far to my right. So I fell slowly back through
the woods, halting now and then to form and return the fire of the
enemy's skirmishers until I reached a field near the main road. In
getting through this field a few men were hit, but fortunately none
badly. Whether we hurt the enemy I could not tell, but as the men
were all good shots, and withdrew with the utmost coolness, no doubt
they suffered somewhat more than we did. I am the more inclined to
think so from the care with which they advanced. On the crest of the
hill in my rear as I fell back, and right on the main road, was a
farm house and buildings. Here I made another halt, dismounting the
men and sending the horses still farther back across another field
to some woods about two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards
away. The enemy now had to approach across an open field while we
were well sheltered for the fight. They came in great force and must
have lost considerably as they were exposed, while though their fire
was heavy, we lost none at this stand. I knew I could not withstand
their assault, as a full brigade of infantry at the very least, whom
I saw plainly, were advancing on us, and
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therefore
again withdrew my little force to the woods where our horses were.
All this time I could hear nothing of the balance of the
brigade, except I knew from the firing they were engaged, but was
completely cut off from it. After remounting and forming in the
woods, I was somewhat at a loss to know what to do, for the enemy
had gained the road at the farm-houses, and I thought it likely were
already intrenched, for they were as quick at this as our men, and
it was the work of but a little while to throw up works which,
though temporary, were yet formidable with brave men behind them.
While I was considering, I heard a noise behind me in
the woods, and sending back to see what it was found it was a
brigade of our infantry, who had formed and were advancing. I do not
know whose brigade it was, I have forgotten; but it was the left of
General S. D. Lee's corps. He had but a short time before been
assigned to the command of General Hood's old corps.
I
got my cavalry out of the way, more to the left, and moved forward
with the infantry, then the extreme left, till they had driven the
enemy from the houses and retaken the road. It was late before this
was done, and I went in search of my own command, which I did not
find till late at night. The men who had been with the main body of
the brigade were loud in the praise of the gallantry of Armstrong,
Starke and Pinson, who had been most exposed, and the chief loss of
the brigade, some fifty or sixty killed and wounded, was with them,
for in the companies with me there were about half a dozen wounded,
and none fatally. This much I saw and know of the battle of the
28th, which was brought on by this attack on me, or commenced with
that attack. Conservative estimates at the time put the entire loss
to the army at between four and five thousand men killed and
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wounded, though this may be greater than it was. It is
certain the field was hotly contested, and that the battle lasted
till dark. We held the road. General Lee in his report of this
battle only says of the cavalry, "I soon found that the enemy had
gained the road, and was gradually driving back our cavalry." He
says the loss in some of the brigades was heavy, but does not give
the number.
While these movements were in progress in
and around Atlanta, determined efforts were made by the federal
cavalry, in large force and in separate columns, to cut the
railroads to West Point and to Macon, but these were defeated by
Generals Wheeler and Jackson, with two brigades (Ross' and
Harrison's) of his division, who ran the enemy to bay near Newnan
and captured a large number and dispersed the balance. Armstrong's
brigade was left near the army and did not take part in this
brilliant achievement, having its own fights and duties, as related.
After the battle of the 28th Atlanta was regularly besieged, and
this lasted about a month, during which Armstrong's brigade was on
the left of our army and north of the West Point railroad, watching
the enemy and engaged in almost constant skirmishing, to protect
this road and prevent a raid to the rear.
General
Wheeler had been sent north to cut and destroy the enemy's
communications, leaving General Jackson's division, composed of
three brigades, to guard the rear and flanks of the army.
This condition of things lasted several weeks, when General
Sherman, taking advantage of Wheeler's absence, made another attempt
to cut the Macon railroad, sending a strong detachment of cavalry
under General Kilpatrick, who passed rapidly around our left,
General Jackson in swift pursuit with two brigades, while we also
with most of our brigade followed. The enemy had
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crossed the railroad at Jonesboro and burned the depot, besides
tearing up some of the road, before he was overtaken. General Ross
had thrown his brigade across his path and our brigade was pressing
rapidly in his rear, when Kilpatrick charged Ross' brigade and
succeeded in getting through, with considerable loss. But Armstrong
was close behind, and overtook and brought him to bay.
Armstrong ordered our regiment to dismount and attack, which
Pinson promptly did. It was a very hot day in August, I think about
the 21st, and we drove the enemy for about a mile, in the face of a
hot fire, losing twenty-five or thirty men killed and wounded, and
inflicting severe loss on them, but they succeeded in reaching a
strong position on the top of a hill, where their rear guard held us
at bay for some time, and before Armstrong could bring up the
balance of the brigade they also got off, for our horses were now
far behind us. They left their dead on the field. They evidently had
but one object in view now, and that was to escape and rejoin their
army to the right of Atlanta.
Talk about thirst! I felt
it that day as I never did before or since; and coming to a small,
sluggish stream, over which the entire federal command had crossed,
and the water of which was almost thick enough to cut with a knife,
those of us crossing in the road stooped and scooping the stuff up
in our hands, I thought it the sweetest morsel I ever tasted. Beyond
this stream we did not pursue much further, and it being late we
were ordered back to camp and rest. That night, I remember, every
man of the command had coffee in abundance, for so closely had we
pursued that the enemy had thrown away many haversacks and bags of
rations they had. They had no doubt got back to their command, and
we were speedily ordered back also, as Sherman had again commenced
in earnest a flank movement around our left,
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and
which was to be successful and result in the capture of Atlanta.
The railroad near and at Jonesboro was speedily repaired so
that trains were running into Atlanta in a few days, and before it
was evacuated. The truth was that all the damage by either side to
railroads, during the whole war, made only temporary interruptions,
and convinced me that when an army of any strength got possession of
a railroad they could hold it and quickly repair any damage done to
it. It is in fact a source of strength to a strong invading force
and a source of weakness to the country invaded by such a force.
Our brigade was back to its old position on the left of the
army by the 25th or on that day, for that night, as stated by
General Hood, the enemy abandoned his works in front of Atlanta, or
most of them, and commenced his move around our left in earnest, his
abandoned works being occupied by our troops the next day.
General Hood says: "This movement of the enemy gave rise to
many idle rumors in relation to its object."
One of the
rumors, if it was a rumor which was not believed at the time, was
that General Hood said that the enemy were preparing to retreat;
that they had established a depot of supplies at Baker's Ferry, and
would cross the Chatahoochee at that place. He himself only says
after the statement just quoted, about the "idle rumors," that, "I
felt confident that their plan would soon be developed; accordingly,
orders were issued to corp commanders to send out scouts in their
front, and to keep army headquarters fully advised of the slightest
change in the enemy's position; to issue three days' rations, and to
be in readiness to move at a moment's warning. Instructions were
likewise sent to General Armstrong, commanding the cavalry in the
vicinity of the West
Page 197
Point railroad, to be most
active in securing all possible information in regard to the
operations of the enemy."
The caution to Armstrong to be
active was superfluous, for the cavalry had no more active and
daring, and at the same time careful, commander. He was all the time
in touch with the enemy and at times the skirmishing was heavy. As
the enemy extended his line to our left he always found Armstrong in
his front. One day I remember we occupied a position on a rocky
hill, with an open view of a half mile or more across a valley which
was cleared and in cultivation. On the opposite ridge was the road
the enemy were pursuing, and for hours we stood, looking helplessly
on, while thousands upon thousands moved swiftly by. The whole
brigade was not at this particular point, it may be only our
regiment, but the scene was not one to be forgotten. We did not have
our battery with us and what shots were exchanged were at long range
with but little damage. I wished then that one of our army corps
could have been with us. Later, I believe on that same day, or it
may more likely have been the next, while skirmishing with the enemy
in a dense woods with a part of the regiment, General Cleburne rode
up the road to where I was.
Personally I did not know
him, though I knew him by sight, and in response to his inquiries
gave him what information I had. He turned and rode slowly away, and
I never saw him again. His death at the battle of Franklin a few
months later, where he fell bravely fighting for the confederacy, is
one of the treasured memories of the war, among his now few
surviving comrades, and one of the glories of the war to the whole
country, which now happily knows no north, no south, no east nor
west. Slowly our brigade was forced further and further to the left,
till late on the evening of the 28th of August, at or near Fairburn
on the West Point railroad, we were forced
Page 198
across
the road, and that night General Armstrong reported to General Hood
that the enemy had reached and crossed, or would, early next morning
with the whole force engaged in this movement, cross. That night I
rode after dark had put an end to our fighting, to Armstrong's
headquarters, and he told me that in the various skirmishes of the
day by the different regiments of his command, that some prisoners
had been captured from three different army corps of the federal
army, but I do not now recall what ones they were. My recollection
is that Sherman had four army corps, so that the bulk of his army
was engaged in this movement. Of this movement and the force,
General Hood was fully apprised by Armstrong, for he says, "Early
the following morning (that is the 28th, for he had just been
speaking of the 27th), the enemy was reported by General Armstrong
in large force at Fairburn, on the West Point road." My recollection
is that our brigade was not finally forced across the road till the
night of the 28th.
General Hood was now aware of the
purpose of Sherman, for he says, "It became at once evident that
General Sherman was moving with his main body to destroy the Macon
road, and that the fate of Atlanta depended upon our ability to beat
this movement." This was patent to our brigade at least, but the
question which General Hood had to meet was how this movement was to
be defeated, and as General Hood says upon his ability to do this
depended the fate of Atlanta. Obviously it would be improper for me
to criticise General Hood's management of the campaign at this time,
but it is not, I think, improper to give the position and forces of
the two armies at the time Sherman crossed the West Point railroad.
Our army, according to General Hood's estimate a few days later,
infantry and artillery, then at Atlanta, must have been about
thirty-five thousand men. Of his cavalry at that
Page 199
time General Wheeler with forty-five hundred men, was absent on his
gallant but useless raid towards Chattanooga, useless so far as any
permanent good was done. In Sherman's immediate front at Fairburn,
and prepared to resist his march to Jonesboro as well as it could,
was Armstrong's brigade, about fifteen hundred effective men.
General Jackson, with the other two brigades of his
division, was busy and fighting elsewhere. From Fairburn to Atlanta
was about twenty miles, and to Jonesboro about ten miles, which
place was the objective point of General Sherman's movement.
Having crossed the West Point railroad, General Sherman's
advance to Jonesboro was slow. He began to move, however, on the
morning of the 29th, and Armstrong fell slowly back before him.
The country between Fairburn and Jonesboro, as I remember
it, was an open country, offering but few desirable places for
defense, but Armstrong availed himself of every chance, and every
few miles there was a halt and fight, but two army corps were
advancing, according to General Hood's advices, and no doubt this
was correct, and a cavalry brigade could offer but little
resistance, certainly not an effectual one. But we did what we
could. I think on the morning of the 30th we crossed the Flint
river, a stream dignified by that name, and which was not far from
Jonesboro. General Hood says, "Reynolds' and Lewis' brigades were
dispatched to Jonesboro to co-operate with Armstrong." At Flint
river we made an unavailing stand, and the enemy crossed it about
six P. M. that day. To quote from General Hood, "As General
Armstrong had already foreseen, a federal corps crossed Flint river
at about six P. M. near Jonesboro, and made an attack upon Lewis'
brigade, which was gallantly repulsed." When we reached Jonesboro
Page 200
we found this brigade in the trenches, and as there
were some which were unoccupied, we were at once dismounted and
occupied them, and took part in this repulse of the enemy. We
remained in the trenches till late at night, when another brigade of
infantry arrived, probably Reynolds', and relieved us. The next day
the enemy gained our works, and we were compelled to fall back, the
enemy strongly intrenching at Jonesboro, General Hardee, arriving
too late, made an assault with a loss of fourteen hundred men killed
and wounded, without success, upon their works. General Lee's corps
arrived a little later, but that night, I believe, was recalled a
part of the way back to cover General Hood's retreat from Atlanta.
Had these two corps been twelve hours sooner the result at Jonesboro
might have been different.
The whole army united at
Lovejoy station, a short distance south of Jonesboro, and Sherman
withdrew his army to Atlanta.
The loss in Armstrong's
brigade, from the time we got back to the West Point railroad from
our fight with Kilpatrick, in killed and wounded was about, as well
as I remember, one hundred, nearly equally distributed between the
regiments, but no official report, as usual, was made of this loss,
or if made I have never seen it.
Atlanta had fallen, and
our loss in men and stores could never be replaced, but I will not
permit myself to indulge in criticism of any one on this great
disaster to the confederacy. No doubt it was our fate, but it was
none the less bitter, and if General Johnston had not been removed,
perhaps it would only have prolonged the desperate struggle, with a
like result at last. The historian who is to come must and will,
without fear or favor, fix the responsibility where it belongs.
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CHAPTER XIX.
Some reflections on loss of
Atlanta--President Davis visits camp-- Ordered by General Jackson to
take command disabled horses and men--Ordered to reinforce General
Tyler at West Point-- Orders and letter from General
Jackson--Ordered to Mississippi with my command--Incidents of the
march--Sick in hospital and leave of absence--At home again--Met a
gold bug on the road.
The fall of Atlanta was the second
great disaster to the confederate arms in the west, east of the
Mississippi river, and second only in its results to the loss of
Vicksburg.
General Hood indeed says: "I was not so much
pained by the fall of Atlanta as by the recurrence of retreat, which
I full well knew would demoralize the army and renew desertions." It
was not so much the retreat which would demoralize the army as it
was the loss of Atlanta, for everywhere through the confederacy when
its loss was known, it discouraged the people, and this could not be
concealed from the army, and the effect naturally was to demoralize
those in the army who were not actuated by the highest motives of
patriotism, and the sternest purpose to fight it out to the end.
Many such there were, and those of the "baser sort" who composed the
deserters, ought not to have been considered, and were comparatively
few. An orderly retreat from Atlanta without loss of stores or
munitions of war, would in itself have been a disaster, but not an
overwhelming one, for we would have had the army, with its morale
preserved, and Sherman's march to the sea would have been
impossible.
Page 202
The army had in fact been
cut in two, and exposed to an attack from the two army corps of the
federals at Jonesboro, as it passed on its way to Lovejoy station,
near which General Hardee had intrenched his corps, and General Hood
himself says: "I have often thought it strange that Sherman should
have occupied himself with attacking Hardee's intrenched position
instead of falling upon our main body on the march round to his
rear." It may be that Sherman thought it strange that General Hood
did not attack him at Fairburn, or on his way there, instead of
occupying his abandoned works with two army corps the day after they
were abandoned. Certainly he had the chance, and was informed as he
says of the movement of the enemy by Armstrong, and this was
constantly done as I know. Before that he had ordered the commanders
of his army corps to be in readiness, to have three days' rations
issued, and yet not a man was moved from Atlanta, till the enemy was
at the gates (so to speak) of Jonesboro. These are facts which
cannot be denied, and not criticism.
But these
reflections are vain and perhaps ought not to be indulged in, but I
find it impossible to refrain from doing so.
President
Davis visited the army soon after General Sherman withdrew into
Atlanta, the headquarters of the army being then at Palmetto, on the
West Point railroad, to which point it had moved in pursuance of
General Hood's plan to move into Tennessee, of which no secret was
made. I did not see Mr. Davis; there was no formal review even of
the infantry, though General Hood says they rode through the camp or
part of it together, and in some places he was received with
enthusiasm and by some with cries, or to use his own language, "were
seemingly dissatisfied, and inclined to cry out, 'give us General
Johnston.' " The cavalry at the
Page 203
time was busy
watching the enemy, towards Fairburn, as I remember, between the
army and Atlanta.
General Sherman was resting quietly on
the laurels he had won and in Atlanta, and did not seem inclined to
molest us, so that our cavalry also was quiet, though vigilantly
watching the enemy and ready to move with the army.
This
was the situation when, on the morning of the 25th of September, the
following order was handed to me:
HEADQUARTERS JACKSON'S
CAVALRY DIVISION,
IN THE FIELD, September 24th, 1864.
Circular.--A camp for convalescent horses is hereby ordered
to be established near Newnan, for the disabled horses of the
division, under Lieutenant-Colonel Montgomery of the First
Mississippi regiment, Armstrong's brigade, as commandant of the
camp, and Captain Sims, quartermaster Ross' brigade, as
quartermaster, selected from the division for their energy and force
of character.
One officer from each brigade not to
exceed the grade of captain to be selected by the brigade commander,
to have immediate charge of the men and horses from his brigade,
will be sent to this camp as assistant to Lieutenant-Colonel
Montgomery. One man to every six horses will be allowed to go to
this camp, to be used as guards, and to perform such other duties as
may be required. The quartermaster will employ negroes to assist in
washing the sore-back horses and in taking care of them.
Each brigade will furnish one wagon to every hundred horses,
and one wagon to every fractional number over seventy. Before horses
are sent to this camp they must be inspected by the brigade
inspector. Brigade inspectors will report weekly to division
inspector the number of horses sent to this camp. The officer from
each brigade will send weekly reports to his brigade commander. The
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commandant of the camp will make weekly reports to
these headquarters, addressed to the division inspector. The
dismounted men of the brigades will be organized under competent
officers, one to every thirty men, and report to Captain Sykes,
assistant inspector-general, at these headquarters. Brigade
commanders, through their inspectors, will have this order carried
into effect at once. No horses except those belonging to officers
will be allowed to be led with the command, or kept with the command
in the field.
By command of
BRIGADIER-GENERAL W. H. JACKSON.
E. T. SYKES, A. A. Gen'l.
To LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MONTGOMERY,
First Mississippi Regiment, through Brigadier-General
Armstrong,
commanding brigade.
This order was an unpleasant surprise
to me, for my earnest wish was to remain with the regiment and take
part in the campaign just commencing. I knew the importance of the
duties to which I was assigned, but I knew also the difficulties
which would confront me with any number of men, certain to be more
than contemplated by the order, and removed for the time from their
regular organizations in the field. I went to see General Jackson
and requested him not to impose this unpleasant duty on me, but to
select some one else and permit me to go with the division. He said,
in reply, that the necessity for the camp was imperative; be was
about to move with the army into Tennessee; communication would be
difficult between us; that it was necessary to have an officer of at
least my rank in command of the camp; that he knew the command was
an unpleasant one, but it was one of great importance; that he had
well considered the matter, and he could not relieve me from it.
I then asked him to give me one company from my
Page 205
own regiment, so that I would have at least one completely
organized command upon which I could rely. To this he willingly
consented, and ordered Colonel Pinson to assign me a company; and,
in obedience to the order, Colonel Pinson ordered Captain T. B.
Kennedy, of the Carrol county company, to report to me with his
company. There was none better in the regiment where all were good.
I took my leave of the regiment and brigade with regret, for, though
I did not anticipate a prolonged absence, I knew, before we met
again, that when we did many would be missing who I would never see
again in this world.
I moved about the 26th of
September, with my guard, to a point west of Newnan, and there
organized my camp.
General Jackson crossed the
Chattahoochee on the 28th, and was speedily followed by the army,
except the command I had and, I believe, General Ferguson's
brigrade, which was left behind.
I knew Captain Sims, of
the Texas brigade assigned to me, and he was a very efficient man
for the position of quartermaster, and together we soon had the camp
in good shape. I had a lieutenant in charge of the men and horses of
each regiment, and from Ross', I remember, there were two, and all I
needed was a good adjutant, who I found in Charles C. Farrar, of the
Bolivar troop, who was in hospital at Lagrange, near by, and about
convalescent; so, instead of sending him forward to join the
division, as I did when men and horses were fit, I kept him with me,
and he made a good officer. I have a copy of my first report, which
shows that on the 8th day of October I had in my camp 18 officers,
597 men and 984 horses; but, as fast as possible, I sent the men and
horses to their commands.
Page 206
About the 2d
of October, I received from General Jackson, by courier, the
following order:
HEADQUARTERS JACKSON'S CAVALRY DIVISION,
IN
THE FIELD, October 1, 1864, 12:30 P. M.
COLONEL--General Jackson directs that you immediately move
your camp to the vicinity of West Point, and, in case the enemy
press down there, you will send the horses to some safe place across
the river (the Chattahoochee), and report to General Tyler, to
assist in protecting the place. Lose no time in the execution of
this order.
Very respectfully, etc.,
E. T. SYKES, A. A.
G.
LIEUT-COL. F. A. MONTGOMERY,
Commanding Camp Disabled
Horses,
Jackson's Cavalry Division.
I lost no time in
obeying the order, and, after going into camp, went early next
morning to report in person to General Tyler. I found General Tyler
to be holding the place with a small force, but he was strongly
fortified, and I concerted with him as to what force I could bring,
and where I should send my horses in the event the place should be
attacked, of which there were rumors and some apprehension. West
Point is about eighty miles, perhaps a little more, west of Atlanta,
and the anticipated attack was from that place, which General
Sherman had not yet abandoned. The railroad was open west as far as
Meridian, Mississippi, I think, also to Jackson, and it was
desirable to hold it as long as possible. My recollection is that
General Tyler had before that time been wounded and unfit for active
duty in the field, hence had been placed in command of this post.
The apprehended attack was not made, nor any
demonstration towards the place, and after remaining a few days
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on the side of the river near West Point, I crossed the
Chattahoochee, and established my camp near Lafayette, in Alabama,
but within easy reach of West Point if General Tyler should at any
time desire what force I could bring to him; and while I remained in
that vicinity was in constant communication with him, going several
times to see him. This brave soldier was the next year killed, in
defense of his post, refusing to surrender to, I believe, General
Wilson, or a part of his force on its way to Macon after the fall of
Selma.
While camped near Lafayette I received the
subjoined communication from General Tyler:
HEADQUARTERS
MILITARY POST,
WEST POINT, October 10th, 1864.
Sergeant P. M. Rowland will proceed at once to the camp of
Lieutenant-Colonel Montgomery, in command recruiting camp, vicinity
of Lafayette, of Jackson's cavalry, with Mr. Waller and W. Q. Adams,
turning them over to Colonel Montgomery to be mustered into service
Confederate States in Eighth Confederate cavalry regiment.
Lieutenant-Colonel Montgomery will forward, by first opportunity,
Mr. Waller and Adams to the regiment which they wish to join (Eighth
Confederate cavalry).
By order, R. C. TYLER,
Brigadier-General.
I have no personal recollection of
this incident or of these gentlemen; no doubt they reached their
regiment, and I hope and expect they made brave soldiers in those
dark days of the confederacy.
Little occurred to break
the monotony of the camp; no enemy near, and only now and then some
disabled men or horses from the front, or the dispatch of
convalescent men and horses to the front.
A day or two
after I got to Lafayette a detail sent out
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to get
beef cattle reported to me that they had found a man belonging to
the Bolivar troop, whose name was Dan Davidson, living with a pretty
little wife about seven or eight miles from camp. I knew he had been
absent from his company for several months, but no one knew whether
he was a straggler or a prisoner. I sent and had him arrested and
brought into camp, but he had such a plausible story of having been
sick and nursed at the house where he found his bride, and his
intention to rejoin his comcommand as soon as he knew where it was,
that I was fain to admit his excuse, and turned him over to the
officer in charge of the men of the brigade, to be sent with the
next detail to the front. He had only been married a week or two,
and begged hard to be allowed to go back to his wife, but he
deserved punishment, and I would not permit it. In a few days,
however, I relented so far as to detail him to get beef cattle for
the command in the neighborhood of his wife's home, and kept him at
this while I remained in that section of the country.
While this was going on I got one day a letter from his
wife, saying she heard that he had a wife living in Texas, and
asking me if it were so. I had never heard of it before, but on
inquiry of some men of his company with me, I learned it was true;
he had been married when about eighteen years old, and so far as was
known his wife was living in Texas, but that they had been divorced.
I wrote his wife this, and I suppose it was all right, as I heard
nothing further about it. I know that after the war was over he
passed through Bolivar county with his young wife on his way to
Texas, where both were still living and doing well a few years ago,
as he wrote me from that state.
I received from General
Jackson the following order a few days after its date:
Page 209
HEADQUARTERS JACKSON'S CAVALRY DIVISION,
CAVE SPRINGS,
October 15th, 1864.
Special Order No.
76.--Lieutenant-Colonel Montgomery will make an immediate and
thorough inspection of his camp, and all horses found to be
permanently disabled, or not likely to be serviceable in three
months, will be disposed of by him. The government must not be taxed
with their support.
By order of
BRIGADIER-GENERAL W. H.
JACKSON.
E. T. SYKES, A. A. Gen'l.
LIEUTENANT-COLONEL
MONTGOMERY,
Commanding camp disabled horses, Jackson's Cav. Div.
I have no recollection or report of what the result of the
inspection was.
A few days later I received the
following:
HEADQUARTERS JACKSON'S CAVALRY DIVISION,
CAVE
SPRINGS, October 20, 1864.
COLONEL--I have the honor
to acknowledge the receipt of your report and the reports of the
brigade detachments for the brigade commanders for the week ending
October 15, 1864. I am directed to say to you, you can purchase the
horses alluded to and give the detail desired. As to the movement
and change of your camp, it will be taken into consideration and an
answer sent you soon.
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
THOMAS B. SYKES, A. I. G.
LIEUT.-COL MONTGOMERY,
Commanding
Detachment Jackson's Cavalry, near West Point.
A few days
later came the subjoined letter from General
Page 210
Jackson written by himself. The paper is very bad and the ink is
worse and very much faded, so that some words cannot be deciphered.
I very much regret this, as for obvious reasons I prize
the letter.
HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY DIVISION,
JACKSONVILLE, ALA., October 24, 1864.
COLONEL--I am
making the move with Armstrong's and Ross' brigades to overtake the
army and cross the Tennessee river. I wish you to move all the
horses of these two brigades and King's battery (which was sent to
West Point to get new guns) to Crawford, Mississippi, between Macon
and Columbus, and establish your camp in that vicinity, or if forage
is not abundant there you will select some place convenient to that
road higher up. I wish you before starting to issue an order by my
command breaking up the camp at Eufala, Alabama, and ordering them
to join you, first collecting all U. S. or C. S. horses in that
vicinity in the hands of citizens, as I am informed that the Texans
there have disposed of some two hundred of those horses, which were
captured on the--that camp to--. If citizens have traded with them
for any horses, whether branded or not, take them away from them, as
orders have been issued, and now existing, forbidding citizens to
trade with cavalry-men for their horses.
I wish you to
keep all the men you now have with you, recruit their horses
thoroughly, and move the battery horses. Do not send any of them to
their commands until I send you orders. Have them all shod, draw
shoes from chief of ordnance of the army, Lieutenant-Colonel
Kennard, who will be either at Selma or Corinth.
Let the
horses and men of General Ferguson's brigade remain in the present
camp, and notify the officer in
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command that
General F.'s brigade was left at Cedar Town, somewhere on the line
from that place to this.
In moving to your new position
make easy marches, have no straggling, no depredations. --conduct
and gratified at the--have straightened out--most difficult of all
commands, "reserve camp of disabled horses." May you continue in
this most important work. You have my best wishes and thanks.
With respect, your obedient servant,
W. H. JACKSON,
Brigadier-General.
LIEUT.-COL. F. A. MONTGOMERY,
Commanding
Camp near West Point, Georgia.
Lieutenant
Chambers, I understand, is in command of Ross' camp, at Eufala. I
sent him an order a day or two ago to break up this camp and join
you, but he had not received it. Issue another by my order.
W. H. J.
In the light of subsequent events it looks from
this order like General Jackson foresaw the result of the campaign
and that retreat would have to be made into Mississippi.
Where words are illegible in this letter I have not tried to
supply them, but have substituted dashes.
The day before
receipt of General Jackson's order I got the following from my
friend Captain Thos. B. Sykes:
BLUE MOUNTAIN, October
25, 1864.
COLONEL--I have just found a man here en
route to your camp, and will write you a few lines. General Jackson
wrote you a long letter last night, telling you of our movements and
giving you directions what to do.
The command (Ross' and
Armstrong's brigade) left Jacksonville to-day, en route to Gunter's
Landing. I
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suppose General Hood with the infantry
are crossing the Tennessee river to-day. Ferguson's brigade is left
at Cedartown, with orders to report to General Wheeler. Jackson is
to have some other brigade in place of Ferguson's. Our base is
changed to Corinth and Tuscumbia. General Jackson wrote to move your
camp to the neighborhood of Macon, Mississippi, and to break up the
camp at Eufala, and in his name order the men and horses there to
report to you. The letter was mailed to you at Jacksonville, and may
not reach you for some days. It was directed to you at West Point.
We have done but little since you left us. The most important was
the taking of the train of cars by your regiment. General Jackson
also sent you instructions with regard to King's battery. The letter
will reach you in a few days, but if it does not, you can act on
this and consider it official. We are all in high spirits and crying
"On to the Ohio!" Wishing you a pleasant time,
I am, yours
truly,
THOS B. SYKES, A. I. G.
TO COLONEL F. A. MONTGOMERY,
Comdg. Detachment Jackson's Cavalry,
near West Point, Ga.
P.
S.--You are to leave the men and horses of Ferguson's brigade where
they are. Send a special courier down to Eufala.
THOS. B. SYKES,
A. I. G.
These old letters and orders are of little
value perhaps in the history of the war, but every old soldier will
understand how dearly prized they are by me.
I got the
command I was to take to Mississippi together as soon as I could,
the guns of King's battery being sent by rail to Meridian, and I
found by investigation that the reports General Jackson had received
of the sale
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of horses by the Texans at Eufala had
been greatly exaggerated; a few perhaps had been traded.
My march across the State of Alabama which, as directed by
General Jackson, I made by easy stages, had but few incidents of
interest to my readers; two I recall, one serious, the other
amusing.
To prevent straggling at any time in a cavalry
command, even when the company and regimental organizations were
complete, was no easy matter. With such a command as I had it was
most difficult, especially on my first day's march. Somewhere not
far from the road I was pursuing, as I learned at night, was a
distillery where the whiskey came hot and fiery from the still, and
some of my Texans found this out. These men were brave soldiers; I
had seen them in many a fight, but the were at all times impatient
of control, except by Ross, for whom any of them I believe would
have died if need be, but they cared little for the authority of the
two lieutenants they had with them.
Halting the first
night at a little village, the name of which I have forgotten, I
sent the command through the village to camp, except my guard, which
I kept near me at the entrance to the village. I stationed guards in
the road, with orders to preserve order, and also sent guards into
the village for the same purpose. As was to be expected, some men
were late getting into the camp, but most of them came quietly,
having various excuses, which I thought it good policy to admit, for
I have always found that a man in authority, having the power to
punish violations of his orders, ought to overlook small things,
otherwise he will be in hot water, as the saying is, all the time.
Presently, however, came along a Texan, whooping like a
Comanche Indian, evidently boiling over with the effects of whiskey,
and rushed by the guards, whom I had
Page 214
ordered not to
fire on any one unless absolutely necessary, and while they
hesitated as to whether his case demanded a shot, he got by. I at
once sent an order to the lieutenant in command of the Ross
detachment to arrest him and bring him to me.
When he
came both officers were with him. I shamed him for his conduct, and
severely rebuked the officers, and told them if I had any more
trouble I would arrest the one highest in rank, and send him, under
charges, to General Ross, wherever he might be. They promised to do
better, and after that night I had no further trouble with them. But
the troubles of the night were not ended. I was roused from a sound
sleep by a report brought by a citizen that one of the Texans had
shot and mortally wounded an old farmer about two miles out from the
village. Sending for Captain Kennedy, I directed him to pick out
five young men, one to be a sergeant, and the best mounted, and
these upon reporting I ordered to go at once to the wounded man's
house, get the trail of his assailant, and follow him, if need be to
the Mississippi river, and bring him to me, promising them, though
this was not necessary, to give them a furlough as soon as we got to
the State of Mississippi.
The next day about noon, as I
was crosssing the Tallapoosa river, one of them came to me and
privately reported they had arrested the man, but thought it best
not to bring him up till they heard from me. As a matter of fact, I
did not know what to do with him, now I had him, but finally sent a
written order to the sergeant to find out the county site of the
county where the crime had been committed, and take him there and
turn him over to the sheriff to be put into the jail. I kept this as
quiet as I could. Late that night the detail got to camp, and
reported where they had put him, but I don't recollect the county or
town. A day or two afterwards I
Page 215
heard a rumor that
some of the Texans, finding where he was, slipped off without my
knowledge, but no doubt with the knowledge of their own officers,
and released him. I have no doubt it was true, but at all events I
got rid of him, for I saw and heard of him no more. One good effect
of this was that the Texans were sobered by this outrage by one of
their number, and ashamed of it, and as long as I remained in
command of them they were quiet and well behaved, and I thought
tried to remove the impression which they supposed I had formed to
the prejudice of their good names as soldiers.
Passing
on my way, I came one afternoon to a very thrifty farmer's, who had
everything in abundance, and here went into camp. He was not only
willing to supply me with forage, but was kind to the men, giving
freely to them of his abundance, especially of sorghum, which he was
just grinding and boiling.
My quarters were about a
quarter of a mile from his house, and just after dark he came to
them holding a young fellow by the collar with one hand, while in
the other he held his open pocket-knife. The young man held a turkey
by its legs in one hand. Inquiring into the case, it seems that the
old gentleman, for he was between fifty and sixty, had caught the
young fellow just as he had snatched the turkey from the roost, and
told him if he let it drop he would stick his knife in him, and he
was afraid to let go, and in this ludicrous fashion he was brought
to me. The poor fellow was so much ashamed he could hardly speak,
and I contented myself with giving him a good scolding, for I knew
the ridicule to which he would be exposed would be more punishment
than I could give him. I made him take the turkey back, the farmer
guarding him all the way. He was not one of the Texans, but belonged
to one of the Mississippi regiments. It was long before he heard the
last of that
Page 216
turkey. I reached my destination in
due time and established my camp northwest of Crawfordsville some
five or six miles.
I was tired and sick, and above all
home-sick, for I had not seen my family for more than a year, and as
I knew there would be nothing to do in camp for a time, and it was
in good order and in fair state of discipline, I determined to try
and get a leave of absence and go home. This was no easy matter, but
turning the camp over to Captain Kennedy, who was perfectly
competent to manage it, I went to the Lauderdale Springs hospital.
The surgeon in charge recommended me a leave of absence, and it was
granted by General Taylor, commanding department at Meridian. I was
in the hospital two or three days. Going into the ward where I was
to find a bed, I was surprised to hear my name called, and going to
the bed whence the voice proceeded, I was surprised to find an aide
of General Jackson. I cannot remember his name, for my acquaintance
with him was but slight. He had belonged in the old army, to Van
Dorn's command, and had, I think, then the rank of serjeant, and
being much attached to that officer, had followed him, and had been
given the rank of lieutenant in that general's bodyguard. After Van
Dorn's death he had attached himself to General Jackson, who had
found a place for him.
He was a young fellow, and I knew
he was regarded as a rollicking but gallant soldier, born in the
Emerald Isle. Upon inquiring into his condition as to when and where
he was wounded, he told me in confidence he had been wounded in a
duel with my friend Captain Thos. B. Sykes. They had fallen out and
fought, and he was severely wounded, the captain unhurt. The matter
was kept quiet, and few knew it, and I kept his secret at the
hospital. I cannot at this writing recall another duel in
Page
217
our army during the war, though no doubt there were others
which were hushed up. I have no idea what became of him afterwards.
My leave of absence obtained, I started home, going to
camp to get my horse and servant. It was now about the first of
December, and I had a hard ride before me, for at least fifty miles
of it was to be across the Yazoo Delta. On the last but one day of
my ride I got within fifty miles of my home, and determined not to
sleep the next night till I got home. Staying all night about a mile
from the old town of McNutt, I requested my landlord to give me a
breakfast before it was light, which he did. The road to McNutt and
for a mile beyond was good, but then came an almost impassable
swamp. As soon as I struck this swamp I was obliged to halt and wait
for daylight. Pushing on, about dark I reached the place where my
wife had made her home most of the war, but there learned she had
moved back to our old place on the river. I knew she had intended to
do so if she could get some houses built, because the few negroes
who had remained faithful desired it, and would otherwise have left.
It was ten miles further, but I went on, and finally got home.
I found the next morning she had succeeded in having some
cabins built for the negroes, built by their own labor from logs,
but warm and comfortable. For herself she had a little house with a
few rooms, built to some of the chimneys which were left standing
after the fire, and was better situated than I had expected. The
soldier's dream I had in Georgia was at last realized--I was home
with my wife and children, though not this time for long.
On my way home this time I spent the night in the village of
Greensborough, in Webster county, and staid all night with the
family of a neighbor and friend of
Page 218
Bolivar county,
who was himself in the transportation department of the government,
and was not at home. His mother was a very old lady (the name was
Worsham) and quite uneducated, but the most inveterate "gold bug" I
have ever known, for not only did she believe in gold, but she would
not take, when she could help it, anything but twenty dollar pieces.
Some four years before the war the old lady sent me word one day
that she had two thousand dollars she wanted to lend me, she had
just collected it from some one to whom it had been loaned, and she
wanted to lend it again. I went to see her and agreed to take the
money at ten per cent, but in addition she insisted on having a bolt
of calico when the interest was paid. I agreed to this also, and
every Christmas she would come herself to get her interest and her
bolt of calico. One part of the contract was that when she wanted
her money it was to be paid to her in twenty dollar gold pieces, no
other kind of money would do.
The first of January,
1861, came round, and this time she not only wanted her interest and
bolt of calico, but she wanted all her money in twenty dollar gold
pieces. I finally got up about thirteen hundred dollars in twenty
dollar pieces, but was obliged to pay the rest in smaller coin. The
old lady went off and bought a negro girl paying all her small
money, about eight hundred dollars, for her, and then sold her for
about that much in confederate money a year or two later, but she
told me with great glee she still had all her twenty dollar gold
pieces left that I had paid to her. I never saw or heard of the old
lady again. A citizen in the town, or near the town, had a very fine
horse for sale, and I sent him word I would pass that way again in a
few weeks and if I liked the horse I would buy him. I was told he
would take nothing but gold, and as my wife had always
Page 219
kept some hid away, though no large sum, I took with me as I
went back the price of the horse, one hundred and forty dollars, and
got him. He was indeed one of the finest horses I had ever owned and
had been raised by his owner. I had broken down several horses
during the war, and had two killed, and was glad to find this horse.
I was not to ride him very long.
Page 220
CHAPTER
XX.
Rejoin army at Tupelo--Disastrous condition as seen by
General Taylor--Brigade furloughed two weeks--A young recruit to
Bolivar troop from New York, but native of Alabama, Henry
Elliot--Reorganization of cavalry at Columbus--Appointed on
examining board--Legislature in session--Speeches by prominent
men--General Forrest--General Taylor's opinion of him--Military
execution--Ordered towards Selma.
All fear of actual
outrage at the hands of the federals, who now and then raided the
county from their station at the mouth of the White river, had been
removed from the minds of the people, except those who were either
soldiers at home or passing through, or members of the
"featherbeds", and even the families of these were not now molested.
For myself, I could not safely stay at home on the bank of the
river, and we went a few miles back to an abandoned place belonging
to a relative, and there my wife remained till I returned to the
army, when she fearlessly went back to her own home. While at home
many citizens came to see me, that is to say, many of the few, who
were in the county. All were anxious of course to know my opinion of
the condition, how long the war would last, what the final result
would be, and the fate of the south if we were conquered.
I did not yet feel whipped myself, but I did not deny that
we were in great danger, that the prospects were gloomy, that there
was no longer hope of intervention, or recognition by any foreign
power, and that the re-election of Mr. Lincoln precluded any hope of
help from opponents of the war in the north, but I advised that
everybody
Page 221
at home go to work the best they could,
for I felt assured that no property would be confiscated if we were
beaten, our only property loss would be our slaves, except the loss
already sustained, which of course was enormous. There was, in fact,
no other course left to the people, though it was the fixed purpose
of the army in the field, to fight it out to the end. If success
came at last to our arms, all would be well, if defeat, our wives
and children would at least be able to live, though in diminished
comfort as compared with the happier times before the war. This was
my reasoning as a soldier with a command still in the field, and
with hope not entirely gone, for was not the great Lee still holding
his own, and had not Johnston been recalled to a command?--alas, too
late to save his splendid and devoted army from defeat and almost
destruction, but still he had been recalled, and this alone revived
the hope of the army in their last desperate struggle.
About the 10th of January, 1865, and before my leave had
expired, I started back to the army, for I knew General Hood had
crossed the Tennessee river and was retreating to Tupelo, and my
anxiety would not permit me to remain longer away. I reached Tupelo
about the same time my brigade did. It was neither demoralized nor
whipped, but it was in bad shape from loss of men and horses. Some
of the bravest men of the command had been left to sleep their last
sleep in the soil of Tennessee. I recall as I write, no names, but
the brave Captain King of my regiment from Noxubee county, and
Sergeant Orin Kingley of the Bolivar troop, my neighbor and friend
at home. Not having been with the brigade in this disastrous
campaign into and retreat from Tennessee, to my great regret I
cannot from personal knowledge give an account of its hardships and
its gallant services, especially on the retreat. In Captain Sykes'
letter to me, before
Page 222
quoted, he mentions the
capture of a train of cars by the First Mississippi regiment, and as
I learned, this was a gallant exploit.
Armstrong's
brigade was almost wholly a Mississippi brigade, and it was known as
such, but in the histories of the state which I have seen no mention
is made of it, or of its services in this campaign, and I have
carefully examined to see.
Before the command had left
Georgia, Captain Taylor of the First Mississippi had been ordered to
report to General French with his company, and took part in the
operations of that officer in his attack on Altoona, but he was not
separated long from his regiment. There was no braver or better
officer in the regiment or in the whole command.
After
the war it was my pleasure, as well as an honor, to know well that
favorite of Mississippians, the gallant Walthall, who commanded the
rear in Hood's retreat, and who had Armstrong in his rear, all the
time, and he often told me of the services of the brigade and its
splendid commander, and I wish I had taken notes of what he said,
but I did not. But while the brigade was still intact, though it had
suffered heavily in men and horses, where now was the army, then
full of hope and confidence in their general, which on the 18th of
July, 1864, had been turned over to General Hood? Let General
Taylor, who succeeded General Hood in the command, tell what he
found when he got to Tupelo:
"It is painful to criticise
Hood's conduct of this campaign. Like Ney, 'the bravest of the
brave,' he was a splendid leader in battle, and as a brigade or
division commander unsurpassed; but arrived at higher rank, he seems
to have been impatient of control, and openly disapproved of
Johnston's conduct of affairs between Dalton and Atlanta
Unwillingness to obey is often interpreted by governments
Page
223
into capacity to command. Reaching the southern bank of the
Tennessee, Hood asked to be relieved, and a telegraphic order
assigned me to the duty. At Tupelo, on the Mobile and Ohio railway,
a hundred and odd miles north of Meridian, I met him and the remains
of his army. Within my experience were assaults on positions in
which heavy losses were sustained without success; but the field had
been held; retreats, but preceded by repulse of the foe, and
followed by victory. This was my first view of a beaten army, an
army that for four years had shown a constancy worthy of the 'Ten
Thousand,' and a painful sight it was. Many guns and small arms had
been lost, and the ranks were depleted by thousands of prisoners and
missing. Blankets, shoes, clothing, and accouterments were wanting."
But I forbear to quote further or to dwell longer on
this painful scene. Almost all the remnants of this gallant army
were hurried to General Johnston in North Carolina, there in a few
weeks more to lay down their arms forever. General Jackson's
division was kept in Mississippi. General Armstrong's brigade, as
stated by him in his letter before quoted, were furloughed for two
weeks to recruit horses, and indeed men if any could be found. Our
orders were to rendezvous near Columbus in two weeks; and though it
would take me four days to get home, and four to get back, leaving
me only a few days at home, I turned and went with the Bolivar troop
who went home. I would have gone to stay a day, for in those days a
ride across the state and back was nothing to me.
While
at home this company got a recruit, I must not omit to mention, for
of him I must speak again. His name was Henry Elliot, a boy about
sixteen years old, perhaps a few months older. He was from the State
of New York, I forget now from what part, and he and a
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boy two or three years older, named Joe Clark, whose father, at
the breaking out of the war, was a merchant, renting a house and
store from me at my landing, and who was a northern man and had gone
home, had in some way made their way to Bolivar county, arriving
there about the time I had started to Tupelo. A raid captured Clark
and returned him to his parents. Henry Elliot said he was a southern
boy, and had come south to join the army. He and Clark had made
acquaintance, and Clark knowing Bolivar county and many people, they
had come there. How they managed it I don't know, but both had the
romantic idea of fighting for southern rights. Henry Elliot told me
that he had been born near Marion, Alabama, that his father had
moved north, and his mother being dead, had married again, that he
had an aunt still living near Marion when he had last heard from
her. He was a bright and even a lovable boy, as I thought after two
months' acquaintance with him. Such boys, and many of them, we had
in the army from the beginning, and many lay already, sleeping their
last sleep, on the battle fields of the south, but these for the
most part had been boys, not only born in the south, but living
there when the call to arms first stirred the blood of the people.
But Henry Elliot had been, from the commencement of the war, then a
child of about twelve years of age, living where nothing but censure
of the south could be heard, and yet he said, intending to come
south and make his home when he grew to be a man, he thought he
ought to come and fight for her liberties. He was without clothes,
except what he had on, but some were provided for him, and he was
furnished by some one with a horse and gun, and joined the company.
I was soon on my way back to the command, and it was not many
days before the whole brigade was together once more near Columbus,
Mississippi, as General Armstrong
Page 225
says, in better
condition and ready for the field again. There was a concentration
of all the cavalry which could be got together, and a reorganization
at or near Columbus, under that great but untaught soldier, Bedford
Forrest, now holding the high rank of lieutenant-general. What can I
say of this man whose marvelous career to this time had been one of
almost continuous success. I knew him well, had known him long, but
except for the short time before mentioned at Columbia, Tennessee, I
had not been with him or under his command till now. Without a
uniform, and this did not much change him, he looked like an old
country farmer. His manner was mild, his speech rather low and slow,
but let him once be aroused and the whole man changed; his wrath was
terrible, and few, if any, dared to brave it. There has long been
talk of raising a monument to his memory in Memphis, and it will no
doubt be done, but to portray him rightly there ought to be two, one
the farmer-like Forrest, the other Forrest leading his men to
battle, or when in anger.
So much has been said and
written, and is now being said and written, about General Forrest,
that I make no apology for quoting at some length from what General
Taylor said of him after assuming the command of this department at
Meridian. He met him the same day he himself arrived and took the
command.
"Major General Maury, in immediate command at
Mobile, and the senior officer in the department before my arrival,
had ordered General Forrest with his cavalry to Mobile, in
anticipation of an attack. Forrest himself was expected to pass
through Meridian that evening, en route for Mobile. Just from the
Mississippi river, where facilities for obtaining information from
New Orleans, were greater than at Mobile, I was confident the enemy
contemplated no immediate attack upon the latter place.
Page 226
Accordingly, General Maury was informed by telegraph of my
presence, that I assumed command of the department and would arrest
Forrest's movement. An hour later a train from the north bringing
Forrest in advance of his troops, reached Meridian and was stopped,
and the general whom I had never seen, came to report.
"He was a tall, stalwart man, with grayish hair, mild
countenance and slow and homely of speech. In few words he was
informed that I considered Mobile safe for the present, and that all
our energies must be directed to the relief of Hood's army, then
west of Atlanta. The only way to do this was to worry Sherman's
communications north of the Tennessee river, and he must move his
cavalry in that direction at the earliest possible moment. To my
surprise, Forrest suggested many difficulties and asked numerous
questions; how he was to get over the Tennessee, how he was to get
back if pressed by the enemy, how he was to be supplied, what should
be his line of retreat in certain contingencies, what he was to do
with prisoners if any were taken, etc. I began to think he had no
stomach for the work; (I suspect Forrest was trying in his own way
to find out what sort of a new commander he had), but at last having
isolated the chance of success from the cause of failure, with the
care of a chemist experimenting in his laboratory, he rose and asked
for Fleming, the superintendent of the railway, who was on the train
by which he had come. Fleming appeared, a little man on crutches (he
had recently broken a leg), but with the energy of a giant, and at
once stated what he could do in the way of moving supplies on his
line, which had been repaired up to the Tennessee boundary.
Forrest's whole manner changed. In a dozen sharp sentences he told
his wants, said he would leave a staff officer to bring up supplies,
asked for an engine to take him back to his troops twenty miles
north, informed me he would
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march with the dawn,
and hoped to give an account of himself in Tennessee.
"Moving with great rapidity, he crossed the Tennessee river,
captured stockades with their garrisons, burned bridges, destroyed
railways, reached the Cumberland river below Nashville, drove away
gunboats, captured and destroyed several transports with immense
stores, and spread alarm over a wide region. The enemy concentrated
on him from all directions, but he eluded or defeated their several
columns, recrossed the Tennessee and brought off fifteen hundred
prisoners and much spoil. Like Clive, nature made him a great
soldier, but he was without the former's advantages. Limited, as was
Clive's education, he was a person of erudition compared with
Forrest, who read with difficulty. In the last weeks of the war he
was much with me and told me the story of his life. His father, a
poor trader in negroes and mules died when he was fifteen years old,
leaving a widow and several children dependent on him for support.
To add to his burden, a posthumous infant was born a few weeks after
his father's death.
"Continuing the paternal occupation
in a small way, he continued to maintain the family and give some
education to the younger children. His character for truth, honesty
and energy was recognized, and he gradually achieved independence
and aided his brethren to start in life. Such was his short story
before the war. . . . The accusations of his enemies that he
murdered prisoners at Fort Pillow and elsewhere are absolutely
false. The prisoners captured on the expedition into Tennessee of
which I have just written were mostly negroes, and he carefully
looked after their wants himself, though in rapid movement and
fighting much of the time. These negroes told me of Mas' Forrest's
kindness to them."
The design was to organize the
cavalry under Forrest
Page 228
into two divisions, one to be
commanded by General Jackson and the other by General J. R.
Chalmers, and great pains were taken. Many vacancies had been made
in company and regimental officers, which had not yet been filled,
and a court under the act of congress before alluded to was ordered
by General Taylor to examine and pass on the qualifications of those
entitled by seniority to succeed. He appointed me a member of that
court; and as we would be engaged for some weeks, I went into the
city of Columbus, where Forrest, Chalmers and Jackson had their
headquarters, to be convenient to it. This was about the first of
March, 1865, and I remained in Columbus most of the time till the
work of our examining board or court was finished, the commands of
the different brigades being all within easy reach of that place.
The legislature had been in session at Columbus for some
time, though the seat of the state government was at Macon, and was
still in session when I took up my quarters in that city. There were
many leading citizens of the state present besides the members, and
some of these were anxious to give their views as to the situation
and the remedy for the dangers which, it could no longer be
concealed, threatened our cause. Among others, afterwards Governor
Alcorn made a speech which I heard, and remember his theme. He said,
and in this he spoke truly, that the whole civilized world was
against the south on the question of negro slavery, and he advocated
an immediate declaration, to be put in force at once by acts of the
legislatures and the confederate congress, to free the negroes at
the end of twenty years. This, he thought, would excite sympathy for
us abroad and bring recognition of our independence, with its
attendant advantages. He went further, and advocated the raising of
negro soldiers, to be officered by white men, with the promise to
these soldiers to free them as soon as the war ended. He
Page
229
was able and eloquent in stating his views, and many agreed
with him; but it was too late, even if the south could have been won
over to his plan. Two years sooner this scheme, if carried into
effect, might have done some good; but I doubt if at any time, even
when, as now, the confederacy was in its dying agonies (though not
even yet admitted), it would have met the approbation of the great
mass of the southern people, even if it would have assured
independence. To have made soldiers out of the negroes would never
have done in the south, however well it suited the north. I agreed
with him as to the emancipation plan at the end of twenty years, for
slavery had long seemed to me to be a stumblingblock in the way of
our success, and twenty years would have given the south time to
prepare for and meet the change--that is, upon the expectation we
were to win our fight.
On the night of the 4th of March,
as I find by a letter written that day to my wife, Colonel Orr, the
member of congress from the district in which Columbus was situated,
was to speak. He had heralded his appearance while on his way from
Richmond, by a telegram to the legislature not to adjourn till he
reached Columbus. Colonel Orr had commanded the Thirty-first
Mississippi regiment, one of those engaged in the battles around
Vicksburg, and in the siege of Vicksburg, at this time a member of
congress, and known to be a member of the committee on foreign
affairs, and coming now direct from congress and after the Hampton
Roads conference with Mr. Lincoln, it may be imagined with what
interest-- fear with many, hope with few--this message had been
received, and how anxiously his arrival was awaited. He came, and
had a crowded house to hear him.
To my infinite
surprise, instead of hopeful, cheering words, his whole speech was a
severe arraignment of President Davis, especially for some of his
military
Page 230
appointments, particularly that of General
Pemberton. In painful silence the large audience listened. There was
no applause, for if there were any who agreed with him, they felt
the indecency of giving expression to their approval of his speech.
True, most men felt the president had made mistakes, especially in
the appointment of General Pemberton and the removal of General
Johnston; but all true southern men, especially all true soldiers,
sympathized with instead of blaming him, for all knew that his heart
was wrung with anguish at the results of his action and at the
censure he knew had in the minds of many fallen upon him, though too
proud to speak in his own behalf.
When the speech was
ended a gentleman in the audience rose and said he would reply to it
the next night in the same place. This was James S. Phelan, an
eminent lawyer of Aberdeen, who was one of the first confederate
states senators from Mississippi, but now one of the judges of a
military court, of which General J. Z. George was also a member. The
house was again crowded, to hear Judge Phelan, Colonel Orr being
present, and I pitied him while he listened to the scathing rebuke
for his speech which Phelan gave him, and which he several times
interrupted, trying to explain. Judge Phelan also made an able
defense of the president, without defending Pemberton, but he stated
a conversation he had with the president about this very matter, and
he showed the difficulties under which Mr. Davis labored all the
time, so well and so pathetically that he won for him the sympathies
of his audience, and was loudly applauded at the close of his
speech.
A few days after this rumors of a federal raid
to Tupelo suspended the labors of the examining board, and General
Chalmers' division was ordered to meet it. Colonel Pinson remained
in command of the camp, and I went in
Page 231
command of
the regiment. The command went dismounted, and on cars, and the trip
was extremely disagreeable, the more so as we found it a false
alarm. We got back to camp on the 11th of March, and I went on into
Columbus, where I had left my horse, it being understood the brigade
would follow next day, as the whole command was about to march
towards Selma, Alabama. The legislature had adjourned while I was
away. I find from some letters I wrote my wife from Columbus, that
while in that city I paid ten dollars a day at a private boarding
house for my board, and five dollars a day at a stable for my horse.
The board was either very fine or the money was very poor. I
remember a few days before we left I paid eighteen dollars a pound
for some coarse brown sugar for my coffee.
About the
fifteenth of March we took our leave of Columbus, but as we were
leaving the whole command was halted to witness a military
execution, the second I had seen during the war, for they were
almost unknown to the cavalry, though it was known a good many had
taken place in the army under General Bragg, who was a severe
disciplinarian.
The first I had seen was a poor fellow
who had been convicted by the military court of being a spy, and the
command was placed in line to see him die. I am glad to say I was
not near enough to see his face or hear him speak.
The
one now to die had been convicted of desertion, and as he marched
past the line, he seemed to me to be about forty-five years old. He
met his death bravely, and it was over in a minute, but what a pity
it was, for in a few weeks more the war was to end, and who knows
what made him desert, perhaps a starving wife and children. I never
knew or inquired his story, nor do I wish to know now, but I have
often thought of him and
Page 232
wondered if perhaps he did
not have an excuse, good in the sight of heaven, though not
sufficient to meet the demands of military law.
I have
said that our brigade was now in the division commanded by General
Chalmers. The command, and especially my regiment, parted with
General Jackson with regret, for we had served under him for three
years, and he was highly esteemed by both the men and officers as a
brave but cautious commander. General Chalmers was known to be a
gallant soldier, and there was no objection to him, but naturally
the brigade preferred Jackson. However, we still had Armstrong,
though Starke's regiment had been taken from the brigade and given
to Starke, now promoted to be brigadier-general, and also in our new
division. It seemed to me that, as our army grew smaller, and
companies and regiments were from time to time consolidated, the
crop of brigadiers increased, and the same may be said of all the
generals. We had enough, I think, when the war ended, to supply an
army five times as large as ours was.
Page 233
CHAPTER XXI.
Last letter to my wife, very gloomy--Cross Warrior
river, move to Marion--New York recruit sees his aunt--Thrown in
Wilson's front--Night march, fall back on Selma--Enemy attack
Selma--How General Taylor escaped--Description of battle--Regiment
nearly all killed, wounded or captured--Brave Federal sergeant saves
my life--Took my pistol aud hat, but didn't want Confederate
money--Sorrowful night--Federal band plays "Dixie," insult to
injury.
General Taylor estimated the force Forrest had
now at eight thousand men, but unless he had some other commands
besides Chalmers' Mississippi division, and Jackcon's Tennessee
division, it could not have been so large, for I am confident these
two divisions did not have more than five thousand effective men in
them. But they were veterans who had remained steadfast throughout
the war, and who were not yet ready to say, "hold, enough." As long
as they had a government to fight for, the men of these two
divisions, and now with them, would fight to the end. Chalmers'
division moved first, Armstrong in front, to meet the enemy where he
could found, with little thought that this was to be their last
march, and to Armstrong's brigade its last fight, for he alone,
without the whole of his brigade, was to meet the shock of the last
battle of the war so far as I know in this department, or indeed
anywhere else.
In this I think we were more fortunate
than our comrades of the other divisions, and one brigade, which by
some mistake or by some one's fault, whose name I know not, never
reached Selma. If they had been able to do so, the result would have
been far different, but regrets now, as
Page 234
well as
then, are vain and useless. We halted a day at Pickensville on our
march, but were suddenly ordered from that place, and soon reached
Eutaw, near the Warrior river. Here I wrote for the last time during
the war to my wife, and from this letter I will quote to show the
situation as it then was, or as I viewed it.
EUTAW,
ALABAMA, March 27th, 1865.
. . ."While we are halted here,
waiting for a pontoon to be laid across the Warrior river, I thought
I would write to you, though I am afraid it may be some time before
you get the letter, as I understand the bottom is overflowed. We are
now on the march to Selma, Alabama, about sixty miles from here. I
don't know where we will go from there, but as the enemy are
reported advancing on Selma from Pensacola, I suppose we will go to
meet them. . . . Our prospects for a successful and honorable ending
of the war are gloomy, and unless the God of nations and of battles
interposes His Almighty power, or raises up friends for us abroad, I
see no hope for us. This you know was what I thought when I was at
home a few weeks ago, yet I do not wish my opinion made public, as I
do not want to increase the demoralization and discouragement. We
have rumors now that General Johnston has routed Sherman in North
Carolina, and if this be true it will enable us to hold on for some
time yet, and in the providence of God may bring about a better
state of things.
"I am sorry to say a great many have
deserted, not so many, I think, from our cavalry, though some from
it. I saw a poor fellow shot for desertion a short time ago. He
belonged to the brigade, and was shot in presence of it, but I fear
it has failed to check the evil. There are men enough at home
to-day, who belong to the army, to drive the Yankees from the south,
and gain our
Page 235
independence, without help from any
quarter, but they will not come out and cannot be driven out. They
basely prefer to dodge about the swamps like runaway negroes, and
try to save their miserable lives, to coming manfully to the
assistance of their comrades in the field, who may be ultimately
overborne by numbers and forced to yield."
. . . All the men in
the field felt very bitterly towards the skulkers at home, whose
numbers had been for some time increasing, though all at home or
absent from the army were not skulkers, but many true soldiers,
debilitated from disease or wounds, were, at the time I wrote,
absent from our brigade, and this was no doubt true of all the other
commands in the army, infantry, artillery and cavalry alike.
But if we could have had them all, we could not have
defeated the overwhelming force our enemy had; no, not if we could
have had every man in the south would we have been able now to cope
with this force.
It is also true that on various
pretexts men stayed at home who ought to have been in the army, not
deserters in the legal sense, for they had never been in the army,
or had at an early day got out. There were a good many of this
class, and these were worse than the real deserters, and were to a
great extent responsible for desertions from the army. There were a
good many "fire eaters," who went out at first, expecting to win
fame and glory in a little time, but who were like the seed in the
parable, which was sown on stony ground, which "forthwith sprung up,
because they had no deepness of earth; and when the sun was up they
were scorched; and because they had no root they withered away."
Some of this class were loud in their blame of our generals for
surrendering, and said the fight ought to have gone on while a man
was left to hold a gun. Later I will give an instance.
Page 236
But it seems to me I am taking up too much time with
this digression, but to be perfectly candid I hesitate about
proceeding with my story, and would be glad if I could leave out
what I have yet to say of our brigade in the war, for though
thirty-five years have passed, it is painful to think of, and though
as I view it through the lapse of years, glorious in its ending,
painful to tell.
We crossed the Warrior river, and moved
directly to Marion. We now knew that the enemy we had to meet was
not from Pensacola, but was a strong cavalry force under General
Wilson, who was rapidly nearing Selma from north Alabama.
Selma was one of the few places of importance in the
interior, which was left in our possession, and which had so far
escaped the ravages of the war. An arsenal was located at the place,
and many guns had been cast there, as I now recall, from iron gotten
at the mines near Monte Vallo, and there was a large supply of
ammunition also stored there. This was Wilson's objective point, and
events proved him to be an able soldier. When we reached Marion, the
young recruit from New York, Henry Elliot, sought and obtained
permission to visit his aunt, who lived near the place. He found
her, but I suspect was rather coldly received, as I gathered from
him when he returned next morning to camp, though she had, he told
me, given him a little money. She did not share his enthusiasm, and
I have no doubt told him he had much better have stayed in the
north, for I noticed he seemed depressed.
The romance of
the war was indeed gone, only a sense of duty sustaining the cause,
both in the army and among those citizens who had not yet yielded to
the spirit of submission, which was spreading abroad and casting its
baleful influence over the army like a dark shadow presaging our
coming doom.
Page 237
From Marion we moved on
the last day of March, leaving our wagon trains behind us, and which
we were not to see again, and going not directly to Selma, but to
some point on a road leading directly north from that place, by
which road it was now understood Wilson was advancing with no one in
his front to oppose him.
On the morning of the 1st of
April we reached this road, at a point some fifteen or twenty miles
north of Selma. Forrest, with his usual impetuosity, had reached it
before us with his body guard and a few other men, and had received
the charge of Wilson's advance guard, literally cutting it to
pieces. This affair, I think, delayed a little the advance of
Wilson, or made him more cautious, for he did not come in sight of
the brigade, and late in the afternoon we were ordered to fall back
to Selma. We marched till late in the night, it being very dark, and
at one place I remember we were much delayed in crossing a bridge
over a narrow stream with steep banks, a bridge in such bad fix that
it was necessary the men should lead their horses over it. This took
a long time, and Colonel Pinson, having crossed, went on some
distance, to stop and get the men in order as they came up in the
darkness, leaving me to hurry them forward. I went across the bridge
myself, and then dismounted and waited: Once, becoming impatient, I
went over the bridge to where I had left our adjutant, Johnson, to
hurry up the men, and it seeming to me that he was getting along too
slow, I spoke rather sharply to him, which before the dark of next
day I would have given anything if I had not done. He was a brave
soldier and a good officer, and a great favorite with me as with all
the command, and never before had I done so.
Finally all
had crossed, and we all got together again, going into camp till
daylight. Later in the day, the 2nd of April, we moved on into
Selma, crossing, I remember,
Page 238
some five or six miles
north of that place a deep stream with steep banks and a good
bridge, which struck me as a good place to make a stand; but we
moved on and through the breastworks which had long before been
thrown up for the defense of the place, though it had never been
garrisoned, halting near the bank of the Alabama river in a
beautiful grove just east of the town but inside the works. These
works extended in a semi-circle around the town, and at some little
distance from the main part of the town, going, as I remember, to
the river on each side; and to have been properly garrisoned would,
I think, have taken twenty thousand men, perhaps more. Here, at our
bivouac, forage was procured for the horses and rations for the men,
and here we rested till three or four in the afternoon. We had not
seen a soldier; we did not know where Chalmers was with the other
brigade of the division and a part of ours. Jackson with his
division was way off towards Tuscaloosa. Before I proceed with my
own account of what befell us on this fateful day, I will give
General Taylor's account of the command Forrest had with him and
where the other part was, and the supposed reasons why it was not on
hand to aid in the defense of Selma, and his dramatic account of his
own escape, for he was in Selma, though we did not see him.
"Our information of the enemy had proved extremely accurate,
but in this instance the federal commander moved with unusual
rapidity, and threw out false signals. Forrest with one weak brigade
(this was Armstrong's), was in the path, but two of his brigadiers
permitted themselves to be deceived by reports of the enemy's
movements towards Columbus, Mississippi, and turned west, while
another went into camp under some misconception of orders. Forrest
fought as if the world depended on his arm, and sent to advise me of
the deceit practiced on two of his brigades, but hoped to stop the
enemy if he
Page 239
could get up the third, the absence of
which he could not account for. I directed such railway plant as we
had to be moved out on the roads, retaining a small yard engine to
take me off at the last moment. There was nothing more to be done.
Forrest appeared, horse and man covered with blood, and announced
the enemy at his heels, and that I must move at once to escape
capture. I felt anxious for him, but he said he was unhurt and would
cut his way through, as most of the men had done, whom he had
ordered to meet him west of the Catawba. My engine started towards
Meridian and barely escaped. Before headway was attained, the enemy
was upon us, and capture seemed inevitable. Fortunately the group of
horsemen near prevented their comrades from firing, so we only had
to risk a fusilade from a dozen, who fired wild. The driver and
stoker, both negroes, were as game as possible, and, as we thundered
across the Catawba bridge all safe, raised a loud "Yah, Yah" of
triumph, and smiled like two sable angels."
Rested and
refreshed we moved late in the afternoon towards the works again,
taking a road that led a little northeast, but did not pass through
the works on this road, but when we reached them, turned and moved
west along them. I remember where the works crossed the road I speak
of, there was a small force, some two or three hundred Alabama state
troops, posted. We marched perhaps a mile inside the works, till we
came to the road by which we had entered. The First Mississippi was
at the head of our column, and I was with Pinson at the head of the
regiment. Just in front of us Generals Forrest and Armstrong, with
some members of their respective staffs, were riding. In front of
the works at this place, was an open field for half or three
quarters of a mile, and the road ran through this, gradually
ascending to a ridge beyond which we could not see. On the brow
Page 240
of this ridge several horsemen were seen, there may
have been twenty-five or thirty. Naturally, we supposed they were
our picket, they were too far off to distinguish uniforms, but soon
a good many more appeared, and it was evident it was the enemy.
Twenty minutes sooner and they would have been in the works without
firing a shot. Whose business it was to look after a picket on the
road I don't know, but I do know that there ought to have been one
there. It is a fact moreover, that no troops were in the works at
this point when we reached this road. Our regiment was dismounted (I
don't remember whether Ballentine's was or not just then) and
deployed in front of the works on the left of the road, the horses,
except field officers', being sent with usual horseholders to a
clump of woods a quarter of a mile in the rear.
We
advanced a little ways, perhaps a hundred and fifty yards, when
about an equal force of the enemy appeared, dismounted; their horses
had been withdrawn beyond the ridge and where not in sight, and
shots were exchanged at long range, without damage to us or, I
presume, to them. I never understood the purpose of deploying us in
front of the works, but we were soon recalled, and our regiment
occupied the works to the left, extending from the road to a deep
but narrow ravine, which the works crossed, and which ran for a
little ways in front of the works on our extreme left. Near the road
was a special fortification or fort, in which a few hundred men
could find shelter, and embrasures for guns through the main works.
Here one, I believe two guns were now placed. Ballentine's regiment
was in the works on the right of the road, and I believe this is all
of Armstrong's brigade that was present, though there may have been
another regiment still farther to the right; if so, I have forgotten
it.
About half way to the extreme left of the First
Mississippi,
Page 241
which rested on the ravine spoken of,
there was a high earthworks projecting at right angles from the
breastworks, perhaps thirty feet, as well as I now recall the scene.
This was, I suppose, intended to prevent an enfilading fire if an
enemy should gain possession of the works on either side of it. This
has a technical name; I believe it is salient. Near this work I had
my horse tied; he was a very fine one I had lately been able to buy
from a citizen of Greenboro, Mississippi. I walked up then to the
fort, and it was agreed between Colonel Pinson and myself that if an
assault was made on the works I should take charge of the left, as
the line was a long one, and because of these works mentioned the
left could not be seen from the fort, and Major Simmons should
remain near the right and near him. Forrest, Armstrong, Pinson and
myself, with some other officers, were at the fort, and an
occasional shell was fired at the ridge which hid the enemy from us.
They presently brought up a gun and returned our fire, and we all
supposed this would be about the extent of the fight that day, for
none of us thought the enemy would assault the works, exposed as
they would be in an open field for some hundreds of yards. I make no
doubt Forrest was either cursing Chalmers for not coming up, or
praying that he might come in the night. While we were all
looking--the sun was nearly down--long, dark line of men appeared on
the brow of the ridge; they moved slowly forward for a while, and
then broke into a cheer and charged, full three thousand men, as I
was afterwards told by an officer in the charge. We could not have
had more than one thousand men in a line at least four hundred yards
long; the First Mississippi having, I know, about four hundred. I
hastened to my place in line, and was barely in time to caution the
men not to fire till I gave the word, as they were as yet too far
away for our fire to be effectual.
Page 242
Behind the dismounted men now rapidly approaching could be
seen in the distance, on the brow of the ridge, a strong column of
mounted men, waiting the favorable moment when one should come, to
charge. I could not restrain the men near me; they began firing too
soon. But as the enemy came nearer I could plainly see the deadly
effects of our fire, though it did not check the enemy, who by this
time had gotten so near that they were in equal danger in advancing
or retreating. I could not see what was going on at the right,
because of this salient I have mentioned; but in my immediate front
the enemy had gotten to the ravine and were crowding into it for
protection from our fire. At the particular point spoken of they
were, many of them, within twenty feet of the breastworks. Stepping
on the banquette at the base of the parapet, I fired my Tranter five
times into the struggling mass, and had commenced to reload when I
heard wild cheering to the right. There were four companies with me
(two I remember, Captain Cravens' and Captain Montgomery's); and
knowing the enemy in my immediate front were in fact repulsed, and
that two companies would be able to hold the works, I ordered the
two nearest me to follow to the right. As I came round the salient I
saw Forrest, Armstrong, their staffs, and some other mounted men,
with one or two caissons, going at headlong speed towards the city.
Then it was that "bloody with spurring, fiery red with
haste" he burst into the presence of General Taylor, where he was
seated on his engine as stated by him.
I knew that all
was lost. The right of the regiment was rapidly retreating, Pinson
with them, and calling halt at every step. There was no time to
speak to him, and hastily calling to the men near me, unhitching my
horse at the same time, we fell back to the ravine, in our rear, my
horse falling dead before we got to it, though
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only
a little way, perhaps a hundred feet, to the point where I wanted to
enter it. I could see the enemy pouring over the works to the right,
not a hundred yards away, and the mounted column fast approaching.
By the time I reached the ravine, with the men who were near me, the
enemy was on its brink and firing down upon us. Seeing it impossible
to get away, I gave the last order I ever gave during the war, and
that was to the men to throw down their arms. In a moment a crowd of
blue coats was around us. I suppose I had fifty men with me under
Captain Cravens. Captain Montgomery had got across the ravine, and
he was one of the few men of the regiment who escaped either death,
wounds or capture.
I saw at the time no commissioned
officer with our captors, the first man getting to me being a
sergeant, as I knew from his chevrons. He demanded my pistol. After
having fired it, I had commenced to reload it, but only got two
cartridges in, without capping those. I handed it to him, and he
asked for my pocketbook. I took it out, and said to him, "I have a
locket with a portrait of my wife, which I would like to keep." He
said, "Certainly," and I opened the book to take it out. As I did so
he saw confederate money in it, and said if this was all the kind of
money I had, he did not want it. This was the "unkindest cut of
all." Replying I had no other money, I put the book back in my
pocket. He looked up and said, "Give me your hat." Now my hat was a
new one which had been smuggled from Memphis into Bolivar county,
and my wife had looped it on one side and embroidered a star on it.
I prized it highly, and hated to give it up. The sergeant himself
was bareheaded, having lost his hat in the charge, and would take no
denial, so I gave it to him with as good a grace as possible. All
this took much less time to do than to tell. He ordered us all to
the rear, guarded by the men with
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him. As we went
back the sergeant kept by my side, for he knew my rank and was proud
of his capture. Firing still continued towards the city, as our
fleeing men were pursued.
As we went back towards our
fort, spoken of at the works, we met some stragglers of the federal
army, and one of these stepped to me, and putting his gun, a Spencer
carbine, at my breast, with an oath, was about to shoot me, when the
brave sergeant at my side threw his gun up, and standing between us
cursed him for a cowardly scoundrel, who had shirked the fight, and
now wanted to murder prisoners. For one brief moment, helpless and
unarmed, I thought I was gone.
We were soon at the fort
and we could hear this incident discussed by our captors, and some
thought no prisoners ought to be taken in retaliation, it was said,
for the killing of federals the day before, in the charge on General
Forrest's small command, which I have related, for it was a rumor,
as I found afterwards, that some of their men had offered to
surrender and had been refused quarter. It was of course not true,
but I make no doubt it cost some of our men their lives that day.
There were brutal men in both armies, like the coward
who wanted to kill me in cold blood, but they were the exception and
not the rule. I had to this time looked anxiously for a commissioned
officer, for while my little sergeant, he was a small man, was I was
sure too brave to be cruel, yet I much preferred to see some officer
of rank. The sun was down and a major belonging, as I was told, to
General Wilson's staff, came up, and to him I introduced myself and
related what had happened and what we heard, and he at once called
the sergeant to him and gave him stringent orders to see that we
were protected. I knew at the time the name of this sergeant
Page 245
and of this major also, but have long since forgotten
them. As the dusk came on, Colonel Pinson, who to that time I hoped
had escaped, Major Simmons, Captain Taylor, Lester and other
officers, and men of the regiment and of Ballentine's regiment were
brought to us until the work around the embrasures would not hold
them all. In fact, the first Mississippi cavalry had fought its last
fight and almost to a man had been killed wounded or captured. A
fate to be preferred I thought to that of our comrades in the
division and brigade who by some blunder had failed to be with us,
and who yet in a few weeks were compelled to yield. I will never
forget the horrors of that night, as we talked over the fights, took
note of who was with us, and wondered who were gone, for while
nearly every one had some tale to tell of who he had seen fall, yet
we did not know all. The federal loss in front of our regiment had
been very heavy, and all night long ambulances were running
gathering up their wounded and even some of their dead. We knew that
our dead and wounded were lying on the field the whole night long,
and we were powerless. For the dead they were at rest, "no sound
could awaken them to glory again," but for the wounded in that
chilly night, the second of April, 1865, we thought of their
sufferings and it intensified our own sorrows. All at once, with a
sudden crash of sound, the air of "Dixie" broke upon our ears from a
band just far enough away to mellow its tone. It seemed like adding
insult to injury. There was no sleep for us that night, and I longed
yet dreaded to see the daylight come.
I have never seen
the report which General Wilson made of this battle, neither Forrest
nor Armstrong ever made a report, and its story is now written for
the first time. The sole reference to it is the brief statement of
Page 246
General Taylor, which I have quoted, but there are
men yet living, how many I do not know, the gallant Armstrong among
others, who when they read this story, as I hope some will do, will
again share with me the fierce excitement of the fight and the
sorrows of that night of defeat.
Page 247
CHAPTER
XXII.
Walk over battle-field under guard--Dead and wounded--Henry
Elliott, tribute to him--Adjutant Johnson mortally wounded--Put in
stockade--Kind treatment by federal officers and men--March to
Columbus, Georgia--Lieutenant-Colonel White, of
Indiana--Conversation with him--Colonel Pinson and myself paroled at
Columbus--Make our way back to Mississippi--The war over--Death of
Mr. Lincoln, sorrow at the South--Meridian, Ragsdale House, cost of
coffee at meals--Trip home and incidents--Home again, negroes
free--Doubts as to future--Determined to stand by the state to the
end.
The long night came to an end at last, and the
morning dawned upon as woebegone a lot of cavalrymen as was ever
seen during the war. Tired, hungry, sleepy and dirty, we were a hard
looking set I imagine if we looked as bad as we felt. It was not
long before the sergeant, who had taken me prisoner and then saved
my life, came to see how I was getting along, for he seemed to have
taken a fancy to me. He was wearing my hat, and I have no doubt took
it home with him, if he lived to get home, as I hope he did. As long
as I was with the federals, this man was always, when he could,
trying to do something for me. His, according to my recollection,
was an Iowa regiment. For a hat I had picked up on the field before
we got to the fort a coarse hat, such as was worn by the federal
soldiers, which must have been the one he dropped, as I had seen no
other one bareheaded except him. One of the Bolivar troops, L. M.
Hunter, who but recently died an honored citizen of the county, had
a good hat, which fitted me, and kindly exchanged with me.
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248
In the course of the morning Colonel Pinson,
Captain Taylor and myself requested permission to go over the field
and see our dead and wounded. This was promptly granted, and a guard
went with us. From the works to as far as some of our men had gone
trying to escape, nearly half a mile, we found them lying, though
some of our wounded had been picked up and were in hospital under
the care of our surgeons.
As we went over the ground we
found that the pockets of the dead had been turned, but little
repaid the trouble of the vandals. One brave fellow, I knew him
well, who had gotten farther than any other of those who were dead,
had his pockets also turned out, and by his side lay a small Bible.
He had been noted for his piety as well as for his courage, and his
influence for good was marked. He belonged, I think, to Captain
Lester's company, but this matters little, he was a good man, a
brave soldier, and went to his reward.
As we passed
along we came to Henry Elliot, lying upon his back helpless with
both legs and one arm broken. There he had lain the long night
through, with no one to aid him or even give him a drink of water.
Pale, but composed, the seal of death was on his face, but he was
fully conscious, and he told me when he first was hit he stopped and
tried to surrender, but the man who first got to him shot him again
and again and left him for dead. The guard who was with us said it
was because he had on a federal uniform, but this was not true,
though he did have on a pair of sky blue pants. Even if it had been
true it was a cruel, cowardly act, for to look at him was to see he
was only a young boy. I recall that on the day before, in the midst
of the fight, I noticed him and spoke to him and he had answered
with a bright smile.
Poor boy, we could do nothing for
him, but in a little
Page 249
time he was taken to the
hospital, where before another day his brave and cheerful spirit
went to its home, and he sleeps in the soil of the state he loved so
well, and within a few miles of the place of his birth.
Years ago I wrote his romantic story for the "Memphis
Appeal," and in that letter applied to him those beautiful lines of
Moore, when the Peri, a child of air, seeking a gift which would
give her entrance to the gates of Eden, caught from a dying hero and
patriot the
"Last glorious drop his
heart had shed,
Before his free-born
spirit fled."
And--
"Be
this," she cried, as she winged her flight,
"My welcome gift at the gates of light,
Though foul are the drops that oft distil
On the field of warfare, blood like this
For liberty shed, so holy is
It would not stain the purest rill
That sparkles among the bowers of bliss;
Oh, if there be on this earthly sphere
A boon, an offering heaven holds dear,
'Tis the last libation Liberty draws
From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her
cause."
A kind lady in Bolivar county who knew his story
and had the address of his father wrote him an account of Henry's
tragic but glorious death; but whether his relatives at Marion ever
knew I do not know.
Passing on, our guards took us to
the hospital hastily prepared for our wounded, and there we found
among others our Adjutant Johnson, and were shocked to learn from
the surgeon in charge, Doctor Montgomery, that his hours were
numbered. We saw him, and all that we could say to cheer him we did,
but at last had to bid him a final adieu, for that night he died.
Many others of the regiment and the brigade were there, and we saw
them all; some lived and some died, but I do not recall the
Page
250
names of others. Altogether, about one hundred in the
regiment were killed and wounded, a heavy loss for the number
engaged, and about as many more in Ballentine's regiment. Having
seen all that we could see, we were returned to our place of
confinement in the fort. As we had walked over the field a fellow
had taken a fancy to Colonel Pinson's hat, and would have taken it
away from him, but our guards proved to be as kind-hearted as no
doubt they were brave, and would not permit it.
In Selma
there was a stockade capable of holding several thousand men, and
with rude barracks, provided long before for federal prisoners, and
it seemed like the very irony of fate that we should be placed in
them, but late that afternoon we were all marched to the stockade.
Many were already there, and the place was well filled. It had the
usual dead-line, beyond which no man could step and live. But while
these precautions were taken, we were kindly treated; rations, which
were much needed, were provided in abundance, and all prepared to
make the best of the situation. Colonel Pinson and myself were
invited to eat with the officer in command of the regiment guarding
us (Lieutenant-Colonel White, of Indiana, I think, for I know later
we were placed in his charge), and, of course, were taken out of the
stockade for that purpose and returned to it when we had eaten.
Nothing could have been in better taste than the courtesy shown us;
and though we talked of the fight and of the war, not a word was
ever said which could have made us feel that we were prisoners.
Other officers of this regiment extended the same hospitalities to
other of our officers, and everything, in fact, was done which could
be done to make us comfortable. I am glad to say this.
The next day I succeeded in getting one of the boys to shave
me, all but a mustache, and cut my hair as close as possible, for
"graybacks" were plentiful in this stockade,
Page 251
and
this was a necessary precaution. I don't know where the razor and
scissors were found; I suppose we must have gotten some kind-hearted
enemy to get them for us in town. For myself, I was quite unwell at
the time, and sought and obtained without trouble a parole which
would enable me to spend the time in the city, only being required
to report every morning at the barracks. There was a lady living in
the city, a Mrs. Marye, whom I had known at home, and I went to her
house and was gladly received, and by her kindly cared for while we
stayed in Selma. Her husband was not at home, having run away from
the enemy, so she said; but I had reason to believe he was secreted
in the house, as he was not a soldier, and he had no reason to run
that I knew of. She had sought and obtained a federal guard--two, I
believe--who remained in the house, and had not been molested.
General Wilson remained in Selma about a week, and then
crossed the Alabama river, taking all his unwounded prisoners with
him. It was late of an afternoon before we, the prisoners, got over,
and we were marched till late in the night. The prisoners, except
the officers, were not closely guarded, and hundreds escaped, which,
I think, was part of his plan, to scatter them. Others, the next day
on the march, were paroled and scattered all along the road. At our
halt the next day about noon, horses were taken from citizens, and
before long all the officers were mounted, on all sorts of nags,
mules, ponies and old plow-horses, with every variety of saddles and
bridles. My friendly enemy the sergeant brought me a pretty roan
pony, with a better saddle and bridle than most had, but the pony
had one drawback--he was blind. However, with the business I had
before me it did not make much difference, only requiring a little
extra care in his management.
Page 252
We were,
all told, about fifty officers mounted, some had escaped in the
darkness of the night before, and we were now turned over to the
exclusive control of Lieutenant-Colonel White, commanding the
Indiana regiment spoken of. He was kind but vigilant. General Wilson
was moving, as events proved, to Columbus, Georgia, and met with no
opposition on the way except a slight skirmish at Montgomery,
Alabama. Colonel White always invited Colonel Pinson and myself to
mess with him on our halts, and often invited one or the other of us
to ride with him at the head of his column on the march.
We were the officers highest in rank among his prisoners. By
some means, after we had passed Montgomery, he had news that General
Lee had surrendered, and it was on the day that he had heard this
that, riding with him, occurred a conversation which I detailed in a
letter to the New York Sun in the campaign of 1876, when Mr. Tilden
was a candidate for President, the Sun supporting him.
The Sun published altogether four letters from me in that
campaign, under the non de plume of Pro Patria, a much abused term,
and one often used by demagogues.
In my first letter I
related the circumstances of my capture, the cowardly attempt on my
life, and my rescue by the prompt action of the sergeant, and the
conversation I had with Colonel White. He began by saying they had
information that General Lee had surrendered, that he thought it
true, and said, "You had all just as well give it up for you can not
hope to win." I said, "I hope it is not true that Lee has
surrendered, you can hardly have reliable information, but if it be
true (alas it was true) the south is not yet conquered, we can fight
a long time, and will I hope yet compel a recognition of our
independence. But," I said, "Colonel, if you are right and we are or
will be whipped, I hope the men who
Page 253
have fought us
in the field will be the power which will decide our fate and not
the politicians who have staid at home."
He said, "Of
that you need have no fear, the people of the north will be so
grateful to the soldiers that they will control this and we will be
generous." It was in the hopes that Colonel White might be living
and see the letter that I wrote, and failing in that, other soldiers
might see it and support Tilden, who represented the moderate
sentiment of the north, as opposed to the extreme or "bloody shirt"
sentiment of the Republican party of the day, which now, thank
heaven, no longer exists, or if it does, it is only with a few,
whose hatred of the south outweighs every other consideration, and
with as much reason as the man had who did not "like Dr. Fell," in
the old jingle which I used to hear when I was a boy. I have lost
this letter or I would copy it here.
At Columbus,
Georgia, I thought for a time that General Wilson had met with a
serious check (I could hear but not see the fight), but he did not,
and was soon in possession of that place, and here halted for a day
or two. I had not been well for some time, indeed had been very sick
just before going into Columbus, Mississippi, as a member of the
examining board, and I now asked to be paroled. Captain Lester also
was sick, and a major belonging to an Alabama command, who was a
prisoner, was also sick. General Wilson agreed to give us paroles,
and decided also to parole Colonel Pinson, to effect an exchange for
one of his colonels he had left wounded in Selma. He left a good
many wounded, but was especially concerned for this colonel, whose
name I have forgotten, but who had been in command of one of his
brigades.
We who were to be paroled went to General
Wilson's headquarters, and there received our paroles in due form,
Page 254
and the Alabama major told us he had a friend in
the city, a Mr. Redd, who he knew would give us shelter till the
enemy had all left. We were allowed to keep our old horses, or
rather nothing was said about them, and we did keep them. I had
exchanged my blind poney for another horse with one of the officers
of my regiment, as I had got tired watching for his every step, and
guided by the major, we went to Mr. Redd's. He received us kindly,
and we hid our horses in his back yard. Colonel Pinson did not go to
the house with us for some reason, but was to follow and find the
way, which the major said would not be difficult, as his friend was
an old as well as prominent citizen of the place. Meanwhile the
enemy were leaving, and I supposed had all left town, and Pinson did
not come. Late in the afternoon I concluded to go and see if I could
find him. I went straight to the main business street, and when I
got to it, found a mob of negroes, and white people also, who seemed
to be looting the stores, and I judged it safest to go back to Mr.
Redd's. On my way back I met a provost guard of federals left to
bring up stragglers, and when the officer in command, he was a
lieutenant, saw me he turned his command towards me. Supposing he
wished see if I were paroled, I stopped until he came up and took my
parole from my pocket, remarking at the same time, "I have a
parole." He was now in reach of me and stooping over he lifted my
hat from my head saying, "I don't want to see your parole, I was
looking for a better hat than mine, yours is not as good," and he
stuck it back on my head and moved on. Nothing in all my life ever
before or since, I think, made me so angry, and if I had but had a
weapon, I believe in spite of consequences I would have killed him,
at least I felt that way at the time, though no doubt prudence would
have prevailed. I stood still in helpless anger for awhile,
Page
255
and then went to my haven of refuge, where I told my
adventures to sympathetic hearers. I spent the night quietly at Mr.
Redd's, and enjoyed the luxury of a bed, with a seat at table for
supper and breakfast.
Hearing nothing from Colonel
Pinson, next morning, before breakfast, the major proposed we should
go down town and inquire for him, supposing that some good Samaritan
had taken him in for the night. Lester was too sick to go with us;
he had a high fever and was confined to bed. Leaving our horses, we
went to the main business street, where the major had some
acquaintances, and were sitting on a goods box talking to some of
the citizens, when the major said, "Yonder comes Pinson now." I
looked, and said, "No, that is not Pinson," but as he came nearer I
saw the major was right. Pinson was a tall, fine-looking man, and he
was now mounted on an old, broken-down horse, the same it is true he
had been riding, but much too small for him, so that it looked as if
his feet almost touched the ground, and on his head, instead of his
hat, was a boy's cap, which did not half cover his head. The major
and myself both burst into uncontrollable laughter, and it vexed the
colonel, for he said, "The Yankees did not take my hat, I lost it
last night where I stayed all night." However, he soon joined in the
laugh, for with the little cap he looked comical. We soon went to
Lester, and finding him too sick to think of travel, and that he was
in good hands, we bade adieu to him and to our Alabama friend, and
at once commenced our long ride to Mississippi. Before we left the
colonel got himself a hat, not a very good one, but much better than
his cap.
With the horses we had, we necessarily traveled
slowly, but we met with hospitality along the road, and whiled away
our time talking of the past. We had been together for four years
and three of those years in our present
Page 256
positions,
without ever once having a cloud to come between us, and this few,
if any, one the colonel and the other the lieutenant-colonel of the
same regiment, could say. I never knew a nobler man, a braver one I
know was not in our army. Of the future we talked little; we both
knew the war was to all intents and purposes ended, though neither
could then admit it to the other. When at last, a few days later, we
parted, it was I know with mutual regard and mutual respect. He
became a prominent merchant in Memphis, and died in his prime, and
all too soon, but I do know that he was full of honors if not of
years, even in his last profession, and died before he could feel
the chilling blasts of neglect, and the lip service which would give
him praise for his past, while it would perhaps deny him the well
earned rewards which would alone make life in old age happy and
serene.
His wife still lives, an honored lady, and still
bears his name, and will while she lives have the love and respect
of his surviving comrades, till time calls them to him.
When we arrived at Montgomery, we heard of the assassination
of Mr. Lincoln, and this seemed to me to fill the cup of bitterness
the south was now draining to overflowing, for he was a kind-hearted
man, and having saved the union, the object of all his exertions,
and the cause for which the people of the north had poured out so
much blood and treasure, we felt that in him we would have a friend,
who would be not only willing, but able to stay the hands of our
enemies, the politicians of the time, whose voices were still for
war, though the south lay bleeding and helpless at their feet.
The south mourned Mr. Lincoln with a deep grief, perhaps,
with a better reason than did the north, and thank heaven, no
southern man, or man in any way connected with the south, had
anything to do with the foul and cowardly deed which removed him
from earth. By
Page 257
the time we reached Selma, we knew
of General Johnston's surrender in North Carolina, and this ended
the war, though General Taylor was yet to make his terms with the
enemy. This of course settled the question of exchange for the
federal colonel, but Pinson visited him, found him improving, and
left him with the certainty that he would soon be able to return to
his home. We also visited some of our wounded, not yet recovered
from their wounds, but these were in a fair way to recover, and soon
to leave for their homes, though some whom we had left in the
hospital had died. The railroad from Meridian was open at the time
to a point about ten or twelve miles from Selma, and we made our way
to that place, and finally got to Meridian.
I called at
once on General Taylor, and found Governor Clark who had come down
from Macon, with him, and it was soon agreed there was nothing left
for me to do, but to make my way home as best I could; but first I
went up with the governor to Macon to spend a night, as I learned
Major Montgomery of the "featherbeds" was there, and was going home,
and I wished his company. When I got to Meridian I was out of money,
and I had to stay a day or two before I could get away. Fortunately,
one of the first men I met was a member of my own regiment who had
been wounded, and was on some post duty, and to my inquiry as to
whether he had any money, said "yes, a man who owed him had just
paid him seventeen thousand dollars, and I could have all or any
part of it." I took three thousand dollars and advised him at once
to invest the balance in something, to make the best trade he could,
but by all means to buy something He wanted to know why, if I
thought it was going to be worthless, and I told him in a week it
would not be worth the paper it was printed on. Whether he took my
advice I do not know. He lived in Macon (and
Page 258
was
after the war a prosperous merchant there, till he died a few years
ago), and when I went to that place a few days later, I arranged to
have the debt paid, costing me I believe ten dollars in greenbacks
afterwards.
I put up at the Ragsdale House, at that time
a large barnlike two-story house, and I remember there was genuine
coffee to be had at five dollars a cup extra, and I took two cups
each meal while I was there. What the regular fare was I have
forgotten. Major Montgomery and I started together to go home, and
made our way by rail to the nearest point to Carrollton, and then
the best way we could to that place, where we got some help to the
Yazoo river at the point where the city of Greenwood now stands. It
then had the same name, but there was no town there. Our plan was to
cross the Yazoo at this place and walk to McNut, as the road to that
place was not under water, and there take dugouts home, as the
bottom was overflowed. There was a white boy paddling a skiff in the
river, and we offered him a hundred dollar bill, new issue, to put
us over the river, and he would not do it. Some steamboats were
anchored out in the stream on a trading expedition for cotton, a
sure sign the war was over, and from the captain of one of these,
the major borrowed five dollars in greenbacks, and we finally made
our way to McNut, walking the eighteen or twenty miles. At this
place we found quite a number of the Bolivar troop making dugouts,
and we all started together in a sufficient number of boats to make
our way home.
As we were paddling up the Bouge Phalia, a
considerable stream in Bolivar county, I stopped my boat to talk a
little while with a distinguished citizen, not only of the county,
but of the state, holding at the time a high civil office. He and
his wife came to the bank to hear the news, and I told them that all
was over, for before that time General Taylor, on the 8th of May,
had surrendered,
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and of course deep regret was felt
and expressed. This gentleman had been an ardent and uncompromising
secessionist, and his wife, a lady of culture, was if anything, more
so. She expressed the sentiment that we ought never to have
surrendered while there was a man left to hold a gun.
In
my boat was a young man of the Jewish faith, Theodore Frank, and
there had been no truer soldiers than he and his friend, David
Reinach, another young man of the same faith, who had joined the
Bolivar troop early in the war, and while I was still the captain,
and who had been faithful to the end. As we pulled off from the bank
and had gotten out of hearing, Theodore Frank said to me with a most
serious expression on his face, "Colonel, do you think Mrs.--ought
to have said what she did, when she has two sons and two sons-in-law
who are not in the army." I admitted it did not look altogether
right, but told him he at least could console himself with the
thought that he had done his duty. This young man did not live very
long after, but his friend and comrade both in the war and in the
ancient faith, is living still, a prosperous and honored citizen.
We paddled to within three miles of my home and there
finding dry ground, I got out and walked, and not far from my house
met my wife riding her pony, my eldest son being with her and the
youngest riding behind her. She did not know me, for I was without a
beard, except a mustache, and she had not for many years seen me
without one. Besides, I was wearing a uniform jacket which she had
never seen, and this is now the sole relic I have of the war, of all
that I wore, my pistol the sergeant took, and my sabre I last saw
buckled round the waist of a federal lieutenant, and recognized it
from the marks I had on it. My trunk, I found when I got back to
Meridian, had been broken into and all my clothes stolen.
Page
260
I had in it a handsome uniform, but when we were ordered in
haste from Marion, apprehending we were going to have a rough time,
I put on this jacket. As a matter of fact, I had worn it in some
shape during the whole war, for it was made from a military overcoat
which I wore for three years, but still had enough good cloth in it
to make this jacket.
It was not long till we were at the
houses my wife had succeeded in having built, and at last I was at
home with my wife and all my children around me, and this time to
stay till Death should claim me for his own. I found that my wife
had agreed with the negroes, perhaps in all a dozen were still with
her, the faithful Jake Jones among the number, that if they would
make a crop, in addition to caring for them as usual, she would give
them at Christmas one-fourth of what cotton they made if any sale
could be found for it, and they had agreed.
I spent the
night quietly talking over the future, which looked gloomy indeed,
for I had on my hands to care for, educate and support, at that time
seven children, the youngest nearly four years old. The negroes, I
knew, would be free, my stock of horses and mules were nearly all
gone; some horned cattle and hogs, it is true, we had, and we might
manage to live, but so far as I could see, that would be about all,
but I knew I had a brave wife, and together we looked the future in
the face and determined to conquer fate, and not let it conquer us.
The next morning I assembled all the negroes, and told
them the southern armies had all surrendered, and that the war was
over, and they were free. I told them the contract they had made
with their mistress I would carry out if they wished to stay, and
advised them to stay, and this they did, till the end of that year.
The war over, and I had the future to face, and had much
rather have faced the enemy. All sorts of wild
Page 261
schemes were talked about, going to Mexico and joining Maximilian,
going to Honduras, and some did actually go. For myself, I could not
have gone without basely deserting these helpless ones, and I made
my mind up to do as Governor Clark, that "noblest Roman of them
all," in his proclamation advised the people of the state to do:
"Let all citizens fearlessly adhere to the fortunes of their
state, and aid the returned soldiers to obtain civil employment,
maintain law and order, condemn all twelfth-hour vaporers, and meet
stern facts with fortitude and common sense."
I was a
Mississippian, and through good and evil I had from the time I could
first remember, stood by her fortunes, and whatever her fate was now
to be, I for one would share it.
Pages yet to come will
briefly tell this part of my story.
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CHAPTER
XXIII.
Changed condition--President Johnson's plan of
reconstruction--Negroes, old Uncle Hector--Negro problem always
serious--General Alcorn's opinion of right policy--Reconstruction
under act of congress--Negroes voting--Convention, carpet-baggers
and scallawags--Our new clerk, Florey--Negroes on juries.
A new era, an unknown future now lay before the people of
the state. Like the great archangel and his legions,
"Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal
sky,"
they lay stunned and helpless under the feet of their
foes. The president of the United States, Andrew Johnson, a southern
man, was looked upon as a renegade, as a traitor to his people, and
almost his first public utterance was that "treason must be made
odious." Yet events proved that Mr. Johnson's plan for
reconstruction was merciful and statesmanlike compared to that of
the crowd of haters of the south and southern people which soon
obtained the control of the federal government. It is true he caused
Governor Clark to be arrested and confined in prison, and he would
not permit the legislature to meet, and arbitrarily appointed a
governor of his own choosing, but he gave us one of the best and
ablest citizens of the state, Judge William Sharkey, and through him
had a convention called to undo the work of the secession convention
and start the state anew with a constitution and laws suitable to
the changed condition of things.
Page 263
This
convention was elected by the old voters of the state, for it was no
part of Mr. Johnson's plan to disfranchise the white people and give
suffrage to their slaves, and it was composed of many of the ablest
men of the state, without regard to whether they had been soldiers
or not. From Bolivar county went my friend and comrade of the first
year of the war, Lieutenant Jones, of the Bolivar troop, and from
every county in the state went equally true men, but they were all
men who recognized the changed condition of the state and gave a
loyal adherence to it.
They plainly saw that no good and
much evil would result from any attempt to even indirectly
antagonize the policy of the government, and like the southern
soldiers who having fought till they no longer had a government to
fight for, refused to continue a resistance by a guerrilla war,
which would have been as criminal as it would have been unavailing,
prepared to acquiesce in this policy and guide the state out of
troubled waters to a new haven of peace.
The legislature
elected under the provisions of this new constitution were in the
main actuated by the same spirit, and under the provisions of this
new constitution and the laws enacted by this legislature the courts
were being held and the laws administered, and we were gradually
becoming accustomed to the change made by the freedom of the negro,
though the constant presence of soldiers in almost every county
warned us that there were dangers yet ahead and by how frail a
tenure we held the liberty accorded to us. Judge Sharkey and General
Alcorn were elected to the senate, and among the able, true southern
men elected to the house of representatives was my friend and
colonel, R. A. Pinson. These gentlemen men all went to Washington,
but were not permitted to take their seats.
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Meantime the old soldiers, as well as all the citizens, were
trying to start over in the race of life. The negroes, considering
the fact that soldiers had been sent into every county, and agents
of the freedman's bureau were busy with them, were doing well. They
had not as yet lost the habit of obedience to the white people,
though few, if any, after the first year, would remain with their
old owners. My own, or rather those who had been my own negroes, at
the end of the first year left me for another employer, and a
neighbor's negroes came to me. They had an idea they were not really
free as long as they remained with their old masters. One old man I
had, Uncle Hector, as he had been called from the time I could
remember, I talked to and told him he was too old to make a living
by work, and that he had better stay with me, that as long as I was
able to make a living for myself, he should not suffer. But he too
left me, and it was not long till I heard he was destitute and went
to see him and provided for his wants for the short time he had to
live. I had a real affection for the old man; he had been born a
slave to my family, being a son of native Africans, and I remembered
his mother, and of how much afraid I was of her when I was a little
boy. The people of the north never did understand the feeling of the
master for his slave, nor that of the slave for his master, till
they were taught to believe that their owners were enemies, and that
they were as good as white people.
Few southern men
regretted the freedom of the negro, and no southern soldier fought
for his continued enslavement. This is absolutely true, though the
people of the north have never believed it, and I suppose never
will. All thoughtful men in the south had been troubled with the
negro question, not as one which before the war promised immediate
danger to the south, but as a dangerous one for their descendants,
not because of any apprehension
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from the north, for
this the south never had till the war proved we were too weak to
cope with that great power, but because with four millions of slaves
in 1860, it was easy to see that by the time I am now writing, 1900,
there would be perhaps ten millions of slaves, and where could
profitable employment be found for this immense host, when already
in the cotton states, where cotton was the only industry which
profited by slave labor to any great extent, immense areas of
territory had been worn out and rendered almost worthless. The
result was that when the war began, the fertile deltas of
Mississippi and of Arkansas and Louisiana were rapidly filling up
with slaves, and would soon have been overrun, and only Texas would
have been left to absorb the surplus. A very large part of the area
of this great state is, if I am correctly informed, not suitable for
raising cotton, and hence would not have been profitable for slaves.
At one fell swoop the war settled this problem for the
south, but left another, hard to adjust, even under the plan of
reconstruction proposed by President Johnson, but under the
reconstruction measures adopted by congress, one which threatened
for a time the direst consequences, the absolute destruction of
Anglo-Saxon civilization in the states of the south, where the negro
was in the majority.
On the fourth Monday in October,
1866, and while the controversy between the president and congress
as to reconstruction was still going on, a circuit court, the first
since the fall of 1861, was held at Beulah, a little village on my
plantation of that name, which had but recently sprung up, and where
a temporary court house had been erected. The old court house and
jail in the town of Prentiss, commodious brick buildings, had with
the entire town been ruthlessly destroyed by the federals, and with
less reason than my house and property had been, for
Page 266
there was no force of ours occupying it at the time, or had ever
been at any time, so far as I was informed. There was no hotel in
Beulah, or at least at the time not sufficient hotel accommodations,
and as by this time I had managed to add to the houses my wife had
built, I opened my house, about half a mile away, to the visiting
lawyers and such other gentlemen as I could accommodate. The court
was held by Judge J. S. Yerger, a great lawyer and great judge, the
last he was to hold in Bolivar county, for in the following summer
he died suddenly at Vicksburg, while holding his court at that
place, the spring term in 1867, having been pretermitted because of
high water.
I have known in my life many of the circuit
judges of the state, both before and since the war, but he was
easily the greatest I have known. To a profound knowledge of the
law, he added on the bench a manner peculiarly his own, strict, but
kind, no man ever took liberties with him, but all could easily
approach him. His court had in those days both equity and common law
jurisdiction, as well as criminal, and he was equally at home
presiding as chancellor or as judge.
Among the prominent
men and lawyers who were at my house, was J. L. Alcorn, then one of
the senators of the state in congress, though not admitted to his
seat as yet, as indeed he never was under the election by which he
then held his title.
He had been after his election, and
up to the time I am speaking of, most of the time in Washington City
trying to get his seat, and was just from that city, then--according
to General Taylor, who had visited it after the war, with the kind
purpose of interceding for the release of Governors Clark and Watts
of Alabama, as well also as to get permission to see President
Davis--worse than Vanity Fair, as depicted by Bunyan, that greatest
of
Page 267
dreamers. It was not, however, with the moral
condition of that city, but its political condition, or rather the
purpose of the leaders of the Republican party towards the south,
that I was interested in at the time.
Our legislature
was then in session, and had rejected or refused to ratify the
fourteenth amendment to the constitution, and curious to say, upon a
report made by Judge H. F. Simrall, the chairman of the committee on
state and federal relations, who a few years later became a
republican. General Alcorn was a very able man, and at this time
possessed the confidence of all the people of the state. I asked him
what the chance was for the president in his controversy with
congress, over reconstruction, and what his own prospects were for
obtaining his seat in the senate. There were, I think, a dozen
gentlemen present, among others, General Chalmers, though I do not
now recall the names of the others, none of whom are living to-day
as I suppose, and he talked for an hour in reply to my question,
without interruption. He told the result of his observation, and his
information obtained after repeated interviews with the leaders in
congress. He said, among other things, and the result proved to be
true, that the president was without power and influence in his
party, that the legislature had made a mistake in refusing to ratify
the fourteenth amendment, that it would be forced on the state, and
indeed it was only the logical sequence to the freedom of the negro,
and the success of the federal government, and resistance to the
policy of the dominant party in this matter, was more like a
childish display of spite, than a thoughtful, earnest desire and
purpose to bring the state into full accord with the government as
it was hereafter to be conducted; and that the certain consequence
of this course would be to bring harsher and severer measures, since
it would be construed to mean that we were still in a rebellious
mood, though
Page 268
no longer able to resist in the field.
He said, moreover, that by the course the legislature was pursuing
in this matter, it was weakening the influence of our friends and of
the moderate men in the Republican party, and giving our enemies
just what they wanted, an excuse for the violent and extreme course
they had determined on. As to the president, it was idle to expect
any hope or help from him.
I have not, of course, given
his exact language, for what has taken me only a few lines to
record, took him an hour to deliver and explain, but his speech made
a deep impression on me, and the results, when a few months later
congress passed the reconstruction act over the president's veto,
fully verified his predictions. From the passage of this act in
March 1867, till the removal of Governor Humphries from office by
force, the state had in fact two governments, one military which was
supreme, and the other by sufferance, civil. At first the military
commander only proposed to fill vacancies in offices as they
occurred, and thus left to the people some measure of their ancient
rights to be governed by men of their own selection, as long as
those men lived, who had been chosen at the last election held, in
which white people only participated. But the congress passed a
supplemental reconstruction bill, providing for a registration of
negroes, with the avowed purpose of conferring on them the right to
vote and hold office, and at the same time depriving a great many of
the white people of these rights, which heretofore they had enjoyed
even under the president's plan of reconstruction.
This
filled to overflowing the cup of bitterness the south was called
upon to drink, for it is impossible to conceive that the ingenuity
of hate could have devised anything which would have so humiliated
the white people of the state as this cruel and unnecessary act by
Page 269
which the former slave was placed upon a political
equality with his master, in many cases superior to his master, for
often the slave could vote while the master could not.
The people of the north did not understand the character the
negro; to them, or the vast majority, he was a white man with a
black skin, while we of the south knew him to be not only an alien
race, but so vastly inferior that no fit comparison now occurs to
me.
Whatever traits of character he had which raised him
from a condition of barbarism he owed to his association with the
white man, and to-day it is well known that if he were even now
removed from this association he would relapse into the lowest grade
of humanity.
But the absurd cry of "manhood suffrage"
was raised, and that platitude of the declaration of independence
"that all men are created equal," written by a slaveholder and
adopted by a convention composed largely of slaveholders, was the
cry, and the negro race as far as congress and the military
authorities in the state could control was made the equal of the
white man. These reconstruction measures and the adoption about two
years later of the fifteenth amendment to the Constitution of the
United States was a political blunder, but one which in theory will
never be abandoned, for no political party with any hope of success
can ever advocate the repeal of this amendment.
In the
fall of 1867 the first registration of voters ever had in the state
was made under the authority of the military, and a little later the
first election at which negroes voted was had for delegates to a
convention ordered to make a new constitution.
It was a
curious thing to watch the negroes vote. There were under the orders
only five voting places in the county, one in each district, and
this arrangement
Page 270
was kept up as long as the
carpet-baggers, who afterwards came into power, held control.
Some six or seven hundred negroes voted in Beulah, and few,
if any, white men, for these, with few exceptions, were
disfranchised in this election. The negroes stood in a long line,
patiently waiting each till his turn should come, and had no more
idea what he was doing or who he was voting for than "the man in the
moon" had.
I have tried to recall the name of the man
who was voted for, but I cannot, and neither can I find his name in
any book or history I have. This much I do remember, he was a
stranger, and I don't believe even claimed to live in the county.
But this made no difference, he was just as good as the great
majority of members of that body, who had the effrontery to say in
the preamble to the constitution they adopted "we the people of the
State of Mississippi . . . do ordain this constitution." There were
among the carpet-baggers and a few scallawags who were members of
that convention some very smart men, who must have inwardly smiled
when they voted for this misnomer of the membership of this
convention. In the fall of 1867 our October term of the circuit
court was presided over by Thomas J. Shackleford, a citizen of
Canton, Madison county, who had been appointed by the military
commander to fill the vacancy occasioned by the death of the
lamented Yerger, but he only held one term of our court, being by
the same authority appointed to a vacancy on the bench of the high
court of errors and appeals, and he was succeeded by B. F. Trimble,
appointed by the same authority.
Judge Trimble was well
known to the citizens of the county, having lived in it and
practiced law before the war, and after the war till his
appointment. He had taken no part in the civil war, and had been in
Kentucky
Page 271
during that time, but he was acceptable to
the bar and the people, and was a good judge.
The
constitution adopted by the convention of 1868 was, strange to say,
submitted to the people for ratification, and was defeated because
of the provisions of certain sections, from four to thirteen
inclusive, which were so extreme and objectionable that practically
all the white people of the state would have been disfranchised, and
Governor Humphries having been removed from office by the arbitrary
act of the military commander then controlling the state, the reign
of the carpet-bagger was inaugurated all over the state under
military authority. No vacancy had occurred among the county
officers of Bolivar county, and as between the races perfect quiet
prevailed, there had been no cause for interference with the
internal affairs of the county, but the hungry swarm who hung around
the military headquarters at Vicksburg could no longer be appeased,
and many a county afforded good pickings, and few had better than
Bolivar. Ames was in possession of the governor's office, and wanted
men to suit him in the different counties, and we were not surprised
when claimants appeared demanding possession.
I was in
the village one day in November, 1868, when a stranger rode into it,
and looking neither to the right nor to the left, rode straight to
the clerk's office, as if he knew exactly where he was going, and
what he wanted. None of us who were looking on had ever seen him
before. He was a small and very youthful-looking man, white, and was
all alone. In less than half an hour our clerk, P. M. Davidson, a
gallant ex-confederate who had been disabled by wounds in the fight
near Sharon, as before related, came out and showed us an order
from, I believe, General McDowell, commanding the department,
directing him to turn over the offices of circuit and
Page 272
probate clerk to the bearer, H. T. Florey, who was commissioned
to hold them both. This was followed by the removal of all the
county officers, and the appointment of carpet-baggers and
scallawags, some white and some colored, to fill them.
And now for the first time the negro was organized into a
political machine, he had executive committees, loyal leagues, in
Bolivar county, under the control of Florey, who, young as he was,
was the recognized leader of this crowd of cormorants. He had a big
drum at his office, which could be heard for miles around, and when
this drum beat, like the great war drum of the Aztecs, it summoned
the faithful, and they came from far and near. Of all the race of
carpet-baggers with whom it was my fortune to come into contact,
this young man, almost a boy, was the most remarkable. He seemed to
be without personal courage, for he passed without notice and
without resentment insults from white and black alike, yet he must
have had a high degree of courage. He desired to control and did
control the negro for his own purposes, but he never seemed to
desire to excite their hostility to the white people, except
politically. He was wise enough to see it was only through the white
man that he could acquire money, and that the negro left to himself,
without the guidance and direction of the white man, would never be
able to fill the coffers of the state and counties, that he and his
friends might empty them.
Meantime the white people
looked on in helpless anger and disgust, unable to resist yet
unwilling to submit. At last, in 1869, the constitution was again
submitted to a vote of the people, sections four to thirteen,
inclusive, separately, and these were rejected, and the constitution
thus purged was adopted. In the election held under it, a carpet-bag
mulatto, named Bowles, was elected to represent the county in the
house or representatives, and a
Page 273
"lily white," named
Dowd, was elected to the senate. Where they came from I don't know.
Dowd disappeared from public view in a short time, at least I have
no further recollection of him, but Bowles remained for some time to
vex the people.
In the fall of that year, at the October
term of the court, negroes were for the first time put on juries. I
was on the panel for the week, and so great was my disgust that I at
once applied for, and easily obtained, a license to practice law,
thus escaping what I thought would have been a degradation. Up to
that time I had struggled to maintain myself on my plantation, which
gradually dwindled down to a small farm, but had wholly failed to
adapt myself to the new condition of farming, and from that time on
gave it up. I never had cause to regret my change of business, and
at once obtained a good practice, putting into practical use the
legal education I had.
Page 274
CHAPTER XXIV.
Civil government under carpet-baggers--Visit to Jackson--Legisture
of 1870--Governor Alcorn tempted by seat in senate--Judges, jury
trial, and negroes as jurors--General Starke, sheriff of Bolivar--B.
K. Bruce--His manners and conservatism--Campaign of 1873--Alcorn and
the chancellor--Correspondence with Governor Alcorn--Campaign of
1875--Rout of carpet-baggers by taxpayers.
The year 1870
opened with a new civil government, and the reign of the
carpet-bagger and his negro dupes and allies was inaugurated under
the forms of law, It so happened that business took me to Jackson at
the commencement of the session of the legislature. I wanted an
injunction for a client, and went there to look for a judge to whom
I could apply for it. It was doubtful in the minds of many lawyers
after the adoption of the new constitution, whether the judges who
had been in office, could continue to act, and as I knew new judges
would be immediately appointed, I went to Jackson to avail myself of
the first one I could catch. I had to wait a day or two, and became
"a looker-on in Venice." The convention which framed the new
constitution, is alluded to in Lowry & McCardles school history of
Mississippi as the "black and tan convention." I never saw it in
session, but if it was blacker than this legislature, I am glad I
did not.
I stood one morning in the rotunda of the
capitol, up stairs, when the house went into the senate chamber for
some purpose, and took careful note of the members as they passed.
It seemed to me two thirds were negroes, including in that term
every shade of color which showed
Page 275
a trace of negro
blood. A few of these had been slaves, and were without education,
but the majority I think, were carpet-baggers, like the most of
their white associates. White men and negroes walked arm in arm or
side by side, and the sight was stranger to me than the
transformation of King George's portrait into that of General
Washington, as a sign to Jonathan Doolittle's Union Hotel, was to
Rip Van Winkle when he first saw it after his long nap of twenty
years. Truly, it seemed to me, to quote (from memory) the language
of the immortal Prentiss in his speech on his contested election in
the house of representatives, "the bright star that answered to the
name of Mississippi on the flag of the Union had been plucked from
its place, and only the stripes were left behind."
"To this complexion had we come at last."
Of all the members of that legislature, there were only
two I had ever known before, one who had been a slave, Merriman
Howard from Jefferson county, who had been the house servant and
carriage driver for my nearest neighbor, in the days when I lived in
that county, Mr. Wade Harrison, and the other in the senate, a man
named O. S. Miles, a white man from some northern state, who had
lived in that county a good many years, and who had made haste to
join in with the carpet-baggers, and was rewarded with this seat.
These were the sort of men who were to make our laws, and to rule
the proud men of the state. There was but one rift in the cloud, but
one hope for the people, and that was in the proud, imperious man
who was the governor, James L. Alcorn. His plan to unite the old
whigs of the state, and through them control the negro, was a
failure, but all who knew him well were satisfied with his patriotic
desire and purpose, if he could, to overthrow as soon as possible
the alien rule which had been fastened upon the state, but there
Page 276
were limits to his power, and the majority of the white
people turned from him, and without practically a unanimous support
from them he could do but little. While he remained governor he did
his best, and all fair minded men must admit, saved the state from
some oppressive measures, but unfortunately for the state, he was
tempted with a seat in the United States senate, a temptation few
men can resist, and a year later was out of the way. In talking of
these things I had almost forgotten what I had gone to Jackson for.
I was in the senate chamber when the newly appointed supreme judges
took the oath and drew for terms. Simrall drew the nine years' term,
Tarbell six, and Judge Peyton three years.
As soon as
this ceremony was over, Judge Peyton went into the consultation room
of the judges, and I followed him with my injunction bill. He wanted
to know why I had not applied to the circuit judge, and I told him
it was a matter of some doubt whether we had one, and he listened to
the bill and gave me the fiat, and this was his first official act.
I suppose the bill is now in the chancery clerk's office; the style
and case I remember well.
Governor Alcorn had said that
the policy of his party was to give the people "judges learned in
the law above their fellows," and no doubt he desired to do so, but
the fact is, he had but a small part of the bar to make his
selections from, for as a rule the ablest were unwilling to take
office under his administration.
He appointed for my
district Charles G. Shackleford, of Canton, an old citizen of the
state, who had gone in with his whole heart with the carpet-baggers.
Judge Trimble had incurred the undying hostility of
these people by, among his last official acts, admitting to bail
Edwin Yerger, who had, in a private difficulty, killed Colonel
Crane, the mayor of Jackson, and who would not have been confirmed
if appointed.
Page 277
I had known Edwin Yerger
when I was a boy at Oakland College, at which place he was a
student, older than myself. He was a proud, high-spirited boy, and
had been suspended from the college, to which he never returned, for
an act which won the applause of all the students. Professor John
Chamberlain, a brother of the president, owned a negro who was often
very impertinent to the students and one day was to Yerger, who then
and there administered to him a sound thrashing. He did not wait to
see the result, but left the college. The arrest, trial, conviction
and sentence of Yerger by a military court, his escape from that
sentence through the exertions of his great kinsman, William Yerger,
his indictment afterwards and final acquittal, and the purchase of
his dwelling in the city of Jackson by the state for an asylum for
the deaf and dumb, would all make an interesting chapter in the
history of the state, but I can do no more than allude to it in
passing on the events of the time. It would, perhaps, more properly
belong to the history of remarkable trials in the state, and some
day it may be some one qualified to write of these matters will do
so.
Under Judge Shackleford's administration of the law,
the juries were in the main composed of negroes, wholly uneducated
and ignorant, but always ready to convict when told to do so by the
district attorney, Charles W. Clarke, a carpet-bagger with little
knowledge of the law, but wholly unscrupulous. The negroes when
charged with crime, while they voted with the carpet-baggers, always
wanted white men on the juries which tried them. Before such juries
as we had, Clarke was a very successful prosecutor, and seldom
failed to convict. As a rule, negro jurymen, when white men were on
the jury, would not long hang out against them. I remember a case in
point.
Page 278
Two white men were indicted for
the murder of a negro woman, and it was in fact a cruel and cowardly
murder. I forget their names. When first arrested, the chief
criminal (both in fact were admitted to bail by an incompetent
magistrate), but the most guilty, had friends who made his bail, a
straw bail, and left and was never seen again in the county. The
other, a mere boy, accessory to the crime, was tried. The jury was
composed of eleven negroes and one white man, a young fellow who had
recently come into the county and was working as a common laborer on
some plantation, and nobody knew him. The boy's conviction seemed
certain, his attorney was a poor lawyer, and still worse speaker,
and some of the white men, chief among whom was our carpet-bag
clerk, Florey, made up a purse and employed General Chalmers to go
into the case and try and save the poor fellow's life. The evidence
had then been closed, but Chalmers made a speech to the jury,
intended for the white juror. He was one of the ablest criminal
lawyers the state had ever had, and especially successful with
juries. The case went to the jury early in the afternoon, and a
verdict was expected in a short time. But the time went on, darkness
came, and the court adjourned till morning. Late in the afternoon of
the next day the jury agreed, and when brought into court, to the
disgust of the district attorney, and I suspect of the judge, they
returned a verdict of not guilty. The young white man who was on the
jury said that when the jury retired he proposed a verdict of
manslaughter, but the negroes would hear to nothing but a plain
verdict of guilty as charged, which would have meant death, and were
so insolent about it that he got mad and refused to agree to any but
not guilty; and finally, one by one, they came to him and that was
the verdict.
I only give this as an instance to
illustrate some parts of
Page 279
the history of those
times, and to show to what conditions the intelligent people of the
state had been reduced.
The governor, to carry out his
plans to bring the old Whigs to his support, appointed as our
sheriff, Brigadier General Peter B. Starke, an old citizen of the
county, and whom I have mentioned in connection with my war memoirs.
He had long been a personal and political friend of the governor,
and was entirely broken up by the war, but he failed to bring any
support to the cause the governor had at heart, and was very
unpopular. At the same time he appointed as assessor, B. K. Bruce, a
mulatto, who had a fair education, and almost the manners of a
Chesterfield. I have seldom known a man with better manners, and as
things then were in the state the county was fortunate in having him
in it. To his conservatism, and that of Florey's, so far as keeping
down hostility on the part of the negroes, we owe it that while the
population was so largely composed of that race, this, the county of
Bolivar, escaped the riots and disorders which vexed other counties
in the state. He was afterward sheriff, and then wisely foreseeing
the inevitable overthrow of carpet-bagism in the state, ran for and
was elected by the last legislature, composed of negroes and
carpet-baggers, in 1874, to the senate of the United States.
Afterwards, as is well known, he became, twice I believe, register
of the treasury, and in all the positions he held, I think he
acquitted himself creditably. Other negroes have done so, and are
doing so to-day, but these are the exception to the rule, for the
great mass are now, and will be for years to come, if not always,
ignorant, and a menace to the white civilization of the south, if
restored to political control, such as they once had in the palmy
days of carpet-baggers. They would again become the dupes of
unscrupulous demagogues, and neither the good people
Page 280
of the north desire this, nor will the people of the south
submit to it.
This is not alone because the negro has
been a slave, and not because of any unkind feeling the white man of
the south has for him, for the negro recognizes in the white man of
the south his best friend; in trouble he went to him, even when the
carpet-bagger ruled, and to-day he comes to him for help in his
troubles, and he is never turned away.
But the pride of
race will forever prevent the amalgamation of the two races. They
must forever remain distinct and separate, and thoughtful patriotic
men north, as well as south, know this to be true, and it is best
for both races that it should be so.
All other races of
men who have come to our land, soon become, or may, lost and
absorbed into the dominant Anglo-Saxon race, for all other races
have in them the elements which in time may bring them into a higher
scale of being; the negro alone has not. This may seem a harsh and
unkind judgment, but any one acquainted with the history of the
African race, in his native land, and that of the other races of men
on the globe, and who is unbiased will, I think, admit it, and
further admit that it is as I have said, the association with and
the restraining influence of the white which have brought the negro
in the United States to his present superiority over his ancestor in
Africa. He has what I think he ought not to have had, political
rights equal to the white man; he is educated at the expense of the
white man, he is entitled to and will receive the equal protection
of the laws "for his life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,"
and this is right, and now, since it has been given to him, the
equal protection of his political rights, but he was not created the
equal of the white man, and no law can make him the equal.
Page
281
Another anecdote illustrative of the negro
character as it was in the days of the carpet-baggers, occurs to me.
An unfortunate negro had committed murder, killing one of his own
race, and was convicted and sentenced to be hanged. On the day fixed
for the execution thousands of negroes from all parts of the county
came to see it, not singly and as individuals, but in their
organized societies, with music and banners. Bruce was then our
sheriff, and as soon as he found it out, promptly stopped the
societies outside of the town, and compelled them to disband before
coming into it. The truth is, for a time the negro did not seem to
know what to do with his freedom, and under all the circumstances
they were not so much to blame.
After the inauguration
of the civil government nothing of special interest occurred till
1873, except the increasing taxes, but in that year an effort was
made to put the state once more in the hands of the intelligent
people of the state, but it was an indirect effort. The white people
organized under the name of the Democratic Conservative party, but
at a convention held in Meridian it was decided not to make
nominations for state officers.
Ames, whose term in the
senate was soon to expire, was the nominee of the Republican party
for governor, and Governor Alcorn, also a member of the senate,
determined to oppose him, and it was the general opinion that the
best way to defeat Ames was to support Alcorn, who, though a
Republican, was an old citizen and large property holder, and all
his interests were with the best people of the state.
Alcorn came to the county of Bolivar to speak, and a very
large crowd of negroes and very few white men turned out to hear
him. Our chancery court was in session, and the chancellor, a
carpet-bagger named Stafford, announced his purpose to reply to him.
Stafford was a
Page 282
harmless man of his class, fat and
good-natured, and wanted to get along easy with everybody. In the
course of his speech Alcorn was specially severe on the men who then
held the state offices, and upon the auditor, Major Gibbs as he was
called. He said of him, that Ames, when he was governor under his
military appointment, had told him that "Gibbs was a thief."
Stafford rose in his place and said, "Governor Alcorn, when was it
that Governor Ames told you Major Gibbs was a thief?" Turning to him
and shaking his hand at him, Alcorn replied, "on the same day and at
the same time that he told me you were a thief." I have seen a good
many men put down in my state when interrupting a speaker, but never
before or since did I see a man so completely silenced as Stafford
was. I had no idea at the time that Ames had ever told Alcorn
anything of the kind, but only a few months before he died, I asked
the governor about this, and he said it was true that Ames had told
him so, at one time when Ames was first governor, he was very
friendly with him, and talked freely to him about his associates in
office, of whom he then seemed to be ashamed. I have no doubt he
was, as he had been educated at West Point, where it is supposed, no
doubt rightly, that only the highest principles of honor are taught,
but the politics of that day, if not of any day, will sometimes
corrupt the "elect" themselves.
When the Meridian
convention was being held, I was in Jackson, and returned home
before news of its action had reached Bolivar, for that was before
the days of railroads and telegraphs in this county. I went at once
to the clerk's office to see the clerk, and not finding him in his
office I went to his bed room. It was a hot day in August, and there
were two beds in the room. In one was Florey and the circuit clerk,
a white man named Lease, and in the other Bruce and a big Irishman,
who
Page 283
held some office in the county, named Sullivan.
Florey wanted to know the news, and I told him the Democrats would
make no nomination for governor, but would support Alcorn. His reply
was that "politics makes strange bed fellows." There was a plain
example of it before my eyes, a big negro and a big white man lying
beside each other in the same bed, on that hot day in August.
The white people did not support Alcorn as was expected and
hoped by those who knew him best, and he was defeated. Governor
Alcorn remained in the senate till his term expired in 1877, and
never afterwards held any public office except to serve one term as
a member of the Board of Supervisors of his county, and as a member
of the Constitutional Convention of 1890, which adopted the present
franchise provision of the constitution of the state, which he
supported and advocated in the convention, and which has been
sustained by the Supreme Court of the United States.
So
much has been said and written about this able and distinguished man
in the days of his activity, during the carpet-bag regime, and so
little was he understood then, and even now, that I make no apology
for publishing the following correspondence had with him a few years
before his death, and with no thought of publication at the time,
though fortunately I have preserved it.
ROSEDALE, MISS.,
December 18, 1891.
HON. J. L. ALCORN, Jonestown, Miss.
My Dear Sir--I have been looking over the "Memoirs of
Mississippi" just received, and I naturally turned first to look at
the sketches of some of my friends of the old time, among others
yours. It gave me special pleasure to see in yours the splendid
tribute paid, not only to your talents and courage, but to your
patriotism and fealty to your race and state by Claiborne, not
because
Page 284
to one who has known you so long as I have
this was necessary. But your contemporaries of the stormy time, when
you held the helm and controlled the destinies of the state, and
however they may at the time have differed from you, as I myself
have done, yet always did justice to your singleness of purpose, to
do good and only good to your people, and gave you credit for what
you did accomplish, and not blame that you could not do more, are
fast passing away, and a generation of young men are coming to the
front who perhaps need to be informed in what estimate men like
Claiborne held you. It is deeply to be regretted that the manuscript
of his second volume of the "History of Mississippi" was lost, for
many reasons, not the least among which is the loss of the history
of your administration. Few of your old friends at that time did you
full justice, and few who did had the moral courage to speak out. I
have always said if the white people of the state had stood by you,
and elected you governor in 1873, as they could have done, that the
revolution of 1875, would have been accomplished two years sooner,
and two years more of misrule would have been spared to the state.
Do you remember our accidental meeting on a train at
Grenada, in September, 1873, and that we hurried through Memphis to
a steamer just ready to leave, because the yellow fever was then
epidemic in that city? I remember it well, and with what anxiety you
looked forward with the hope that the white people of the state,
recognizing your earnest desire to come to their aid, would give you
credit in advance for all you hoped and expected to do, and trust
you as one of themselves without such pledges and assurances as
would at that time have rendered your defeat certain and all your
efforts abortive. I remember it well and how earnestly I tried to
second your efforts.
Page 285
I remember too,
how in my house at Beulah, after the ineffectual appeal of Judge
Sharkey and yourself to the senate of the United States to be
admitted to that august body as senators of the state, you told to
myself and others the true state of public sentiment in congress,
and in the north, and the weakness of President Johnson in his own
party, and predicted the results which were to follow. But your
warnings, as well as your advice, were not heeded. All these things
and more, no doubt, will yet be told in the true story of your
public life, which has yet to be written in full. I consider the
loss of Claiborne's manuscript a public misfortune in that full
justice would also have been done to that old friend of yours and
mine, the old hero, Governor Clark. This I know because I had much
correspondence with Claiborne about it, and gave him many facts as
to the governor's life not generally known. In the "Memoirs of
Mississippi" you will find a sketch of General Clark written by me,
which is necessarily short, but I hope you will like it. But I must
not weary you. Believe me, that while not always agreeing with you,
I always did justice to you, as Claiborne has done, and always have
been,
Sincerely your friend,
F. A. MONTGOMERY.
EAGLE
NEST, December 23, 1891.
COLONEL F. A. MONTGOMERY, Rosedale,
Miss.:
My Dear Sir--The receipt of your letter of the
18th instant, now before me, gave me great pleasure. My long
acquaintance with you, the intimate acquaintance I have enjoyed, has
ripened a friendship which began long since and has continued
unbroken until the present time, and makes me regard what you say as
the opinion of a strong and impartial friend. It is true, as you
say, that the generation of men who shared with us the
Page 286
responsibilities of the trying period through which we have
passed are now rapidly passing away. Soon the men of the
reconstruction period will be no more. To me there is a regret that
will go with me to the grave that I could not have served the people
of Mississippi and of the south more profitably than I did. I had
studied the question of reconstruction. I had studied the temper of
the northern people and I had determined to yield to the inevitable.
I bore with great patience the complaints and abuse of the people
who criticized my course. It was but natural. Their words were but
the language of my own heart when I gave way to my passions. But I
had determined to look facts in the face and by a stern discipline
to follow in the course that my judgment told me was necessary to
reach the haven of rest for the people of the state. I had been
before the war accused of an inordinate pride. A proud man I was
justly said to be, and now when I was accused of being a negro
leveler of my own race, a man who sought to bring my own race down
to a level with the ignorant and vulgar, my mortification had
reached its maximum, but I had determined on my course. I had
enjoyed an early acquaintance with Colonel Claiborne, I had
exchanged views and opinions with him. He took me severely to task
for the course I intimated to him I intended to adopt. I knew him to
be a man of strong and vigorous mind, a man of independence of
thought, and I took pains to suggest to him my convictions as to the
true course to be pursued. The correspondence I had with him would
have been shown to the world had not his manuscript of the second
volume of Mississippi history been destroyed. He was of the opinion
I could not reach the point which I finally attained. He was of the
opinion that the passions of the State of Mississippi would not
tolerate me as far as they did. He said to me
Page 287
that
I would be assassinated, that I would fall a martyr under a cloud
that would cover me in my grave, but when I succeeded in
establishing myself in the opinion of yourself and others Claiborne
became enthusiastic in my praise. You, my dear colonel, were among
my friends, and to-day my heart goes out to you in respect and love.
If I could have been elected to the office of governor in 1873 I
would have vindicated myself in the judgment of all thinking men,
but I am consoled with the reflection that I had the confidence of
such men as Claiborne and Clark and that to-day I enjoy the
friendship and confidence of such living men as yourself.
Your friend,
J. L. ALCORN.
I am glad to have
preserved this correspondence and to be able to give it to the
world. Governor Alcorn lived nearly four years after this, and
circumstances made me his near neighbor for the last two years of
his life, and gave me the privilege of joining with his old friends
and neighbors in paying to his remains the last tribute of respect.
They, like those of Governor Clark, lie upon a high mound, the work
of the prehistoric and forgotten race, and near to his magnificent
home, where his great delight was to dispense a generous hospitality
to his friends.
At his burial there were no more sincere
mourners than the numerous negroes from his plantations, many of
whom had been his slaves. I was deeply touched to see among the
stones already there, one to his young son Hal Alcorn, as he was
called, who, when a boy of sixteen, had joined the Bolivar troop and
been taken prisoner in Georgia, and had died while in prison and
been buried far from his home and friends, among an indisguishable
number of like heroic sons of the south.
Page 288
The year 1875 dawned upon an impoverished state and
impoverished people, but its close was to bring redemption from
misrule. The histories of the state have told this story, but none
have done it full justice. I will only concern myself with the
efforts made in Bolivar county, and the results achieved here. Many
of the best people of the state despaired of relief, but they did
not for that reason hold back from the work. A few men met in the
court-house to organize a tax-payers' party to assist in the great
fight about to be made. Among them I recall the names of Governor
Clark, Colonel Green Clay of the great family of that name in
Kentucky, Colonel Strother and others, of whom, I am proud to say, I
was one. Nearly every member of this little meeting had belonged to
the old Whig party, but willingly called themselves Democrats, for
that party alone promised at that time in the north any relief from
the intolerable evils under which the south was then groaning. It
alone, with a few noble exceptions, seemed to have any sympathy for
us. It is this which united the Whigs and Democrats of the state,
and kept them united long after the necessity for it had passed
away, if it were not for fear of the negro in politics. It is true
he is no longer a menace to white supremacy, but with a division of
the white people into two parties, he would certainly be in politics
again, and even under the present franchise law there are many
thousands who could, if they would, qualify themselves to vote, and
would certainly hold the balance of power. This is in the highest
degree unfortunate, for ours is a government of parties, and where
there cannot be two parties there are sure to be two factions, and
the only question is who can get the spoils. The result is, that the
ablest men, as a rule, refuse to take part in a factional fight and
stand aloof, while the weak and
Page 289
incompetent, like
the froth that rises to the top of the glass, come to the front.
This condition of political affairs in the state is
unfortunate for another reason. With the necessity, real or
supposed, of all the white men standing together in state and local
affairs, they are not free to divide on national issues. The test of
loyalty to the party in state elections made by the politicians in
the state, is not whether a man has been true to his race and to
Anglo-Saxon civilization, but whether he has voted or will vote for
the Democratic nominee for president, though he may believe, as
hundreds, perhaps thousands, do in the state sometimes, his election
would be a great disaster to the country.
These men are
not deceived by the absurd bugbears of "imperialism" or
"militarism." They remember they belong to a race which has never
been conquered or enslaved, since the bold barons of England wrested
from the tyrant John the Magna Charta, or since William of Orange
overthrew James. This much and no more I will say about the politics
of the time. In 1875 there was in fact but one party in Bolivar
county, for the negroes registered about four thousand votes, and
the whites only about three hundred. Our little meeting sent as
delegates to the convention that met in Jackson, Governor Clark,
Colonel Clay and Colonel Strother, and some others, and Governor
Clark was chosen as chairman. This was in fact the tax-payers'
convention before mentioned. There were no state officers to be
elected that year, and no nominations to be made, but the meeting
did great good in encouraging the timid and strengthening the cause.
We also organized an executive committee, and I had the honor to be
its chairman. The great object hoped for in the state was to elect a
legislature composed of our best men. Members of the house of
representatives,
Page 290
half the senate, and all county
offices were to be elected. Fortunately for us in Bolivar, there
were more aspirants for office among the negroes and the few white
carpet-baggers than there were offices, and this resulted in a split
of which we were quick to take advantage.
The great
object we had was to elect Colonel Clay to the legislature, and he
with a negro was nominated by the faction opposed to Florey. The
Florey crowd nominated Dr. Shelby, a good man and a Democrat, and
also put up a negro. Colonel Clay made a bold and active canvass,
and his uncle, the celebrated Cassius M. Clay, came from Kentucky to
help him. As Cassius M. Clay had, in days gone by, at the risk of
his life, been an abolitionist, he gave effective help. The result
of the election so far as the legislature was concerned, was to
elect both Colonel Clay and Dr. Shelby, so that we sent two
Democrats to the house instead of one. All men know what that
legislature did towards redeeming the state; it is in all the
histories of the state. A negro named Luke Moore came within one
vote of defeating the redoubtable Florey for chancery clerk, in
fact, on the first count had beat him one vote, but on a recount,
which Florey succeeded in having made, be got a majority of one
vote, and the certificate of election. Luke Moore concluded, on the
advice of Governor Clark and myself; to contest, and we felt sure of
winning his case for him, but on the day of the contest Florey paid
him five hundred dollars to withdraw from the contest, and he did so
without consulting his counsel. The last I saw of my client as I
left the place in disgust, he had hundreds of his witnesses around
him clamoring for their witness fees, as they all knew he had money.
I expect when they got through with him he had but little left,
especially as the governor and I had taken care to get our fee.
Page 291
CHAPTER XXV.
Campaign of 1876--John R.
Lynch--Twenty negro laws, his anecdote--Elected to
legislature--Commissioner to Washington City in 1882 and 1884 in
interest of levees--Captain Eads-- Congressman Jones from
Kentucky--Funeral of Mr. Davis in New Orleans--Elected to
legislature from Coahoma county-- Appointed circuit judge--Moral
influence of the bar--Golden wedding tributes--Conclusion--The Star
of Mississippi.
The year 1876 was in the State of
Mississippi, politically, an exciting one, when Mr. Tilden was the
candidate of the Democrats for president and General Hayes the
candidate of the Republicans, and the last in which there has been
much of a contest in the state over that office. In Bolivar county
we made an earnest effort to carry the county for Mr. Tilden,
organized societies with red shirts, gave barbecues, and besides our
home orators, of whom we had many among the young lawyers of the
county, who have since rose to distinguished places in the history
of the state and county, we imported and paid negro orators, and the
negro when he has some education and can talk at all is a natural
orator, but all to no avail, for the county went by a large majority
for Hayes. I believe we did by extraordinary efforts carry the box
at the county site, Rosedale. There was much more excitement in
Bolivar county than in the election the preceding year, and there
were times when it seemed almost impossible to avoid a collision
between the races, but fortunately this was avoided. We gave a big
barbecue in Rosedale, and there was a time during the day that there
was great
Page 292
danger. A negro named Jones, the clerk of
the court in Desha county, Arkansas, the county immediately opposite
to Bolivar, came into town and desired to speak, but as I knew
nothing about him I declined to let him appear as one of our
speakers, and this incensed him, and late in the afternoon when all
the white men had gone home and none left except a few who lived in
the village he gathered a crowd around him and began an inflamatory
harangue to a crowd of excited and many of them intoxicated negroes,
and there would have been trouble, but I stopped him and advised him
to go back to Arkansas, where he belonged. He stopped speaking and
in a short time left the county, though not without a little gentle
compulsion. As a matter of fact I had him safely carried over the
river to his own state, and he made his way home as best he could. I
met him a good many times after this and he always laughed about his
experience in trying to make a Democratic speech when he was not
invited, and was especially civil and polite.
In the
canvass John R. Lynch, who was a candidate for congress and
afterwards became prominent in his party, came to Rosedale to make a
speech. This man had been a slave, the favored body-servant of one
of the wealthy men of Natchez, Mr. Suzette, I believe; had some
education, and was naturally very bright. I remember our Democratic
elector, my friend Warren Cowan, was present. There was a big crowd
of negroes and very few white men to hear him; in fact, the crowd
was so great he had to speak in the open air. Lynch, negro though he
was, had few superiors as a stump-speaker, and perhaps none before
such an audience as he then had. He told many amusing anecdotes, and
among others the following. The confederate congress in its day had
passed what was known as the twenty-negro law, a very foolish
measure, as I thought then and think
Page 293
now. This law
exempted from compulsory service in the confederate army all men who
owned as many as twenty negroes. He told his story well, better than
I can repeat it. His master, he said, owned hundreds of negroes, but
had a neighbor who did not own many. Just after the passage of the
twenty-negro law his master sent him on some errand to this
neighbor, and he found him very much depressed. Going into the
kitchen after he had delivered his message, and while he was waiting
an answer, he asked the cook what was the matter with her master.
She said, "Why, don't you know? Master scared dey gwine to put him
in the army 'case he ain't got twenty niggers; he ain't got but
nineteen." He returned home with the gentleman's answer to his
master's message, and bearing a request for the loan of a negro.
This was flatly refused. A month later he again had an errand to the
gentleman, and this time he was all wreathed in smiles. Going again
to the kitchen, he again applied to the cook for information as to
the changed demeanor of her master, and her reply was, "Sally had a
baby last night, and master's got twenty niggers now." Lynch carried
the crowd with this, and it took as well with the white men who
heard him. Judge Cowan suggested to me that he ought to reply to
Lynch, but I persuaded him not to do it. It is certain he would have
gotten the worst of it.
In 1879 I was elected to the
house of representatives of the state, and held this office for
three consecutive terms, when I declined to be a candidate again. In
1882, while in my seat in the house, I received a telegram that a
break in the levee had overflowed the town, and the water was a foot
deep in my house. I hastened to get my family to Memphis, and
hurried back to the closing days of the session, as experience had
already taught me that the time of all others when a legislator
Page 294
ought to be in his seat is when the legislature is
coming to an end. The legislature passed a resolution empowering the
governor to appoint three commissioners to go to Washington City and
see what aid could be obtained towards rebuilding the levees, for
there were perhaps a hundred breaks, but it refused to give a dollar
towards paying the expenses of the commissioners.
Governor Lowrey appointed Governor Alcorn, Colonel W. A.
Percy and myself. Governor Alcorn could not go, but Colonel Percy
and I did go.
Few men have lived in Mississippi whose
lives promised more to the state than Percy's, an able lawyer, a
gentleman of unblemished honor, a confederate soldier, he had
already won distinction as a member of the memorable legislature of
1876, but inexorable death removed him in the prime of his days and
usefulness. What he might have become if he had lived longer it is
idle to speculate on. That he would have been a wise adviser in
these days when faction seems ready to disrupt the party of the
white man in the state of Mississippi (for Democratic party there is
none) is certain, and it may be his influence would have prevailed
and saved the party from the dangers which now seem to me to
threaten it. To our great regret Senator Lamar was not in Washington
when we got there, and did not return till we were ready to leave,
but Senator George and most of our congressmen were, and from them
all we received a cordial welcome, and were introduced to some of
the leading men of both parties. Especially I recall the courtesies
shown us by General Chalmers, then the member from the district in
which the levees were, though he lost his seat soon after in the
contest with Lynch, who was claiming his seat, and from now Senator
Money, and from Colonel Muldrow. We were invited to go before the
committee on rivers and harbors in the house, and the committee on
commerce in
Page 295
the senate, of which, as I remember,
Senator Frye was chairman. We were given a hearing by these
committees and Colonel Percy ably presented the cause of the
dwellers, in the lands of the Delta. We were met with the objection
by some leading southern Democrats, as well as some Republicans,
that money could not be appropriated to protect private property,
for this was the narrow-minded view then taken of this great
question of levee protection. A better day has dawned, and it is now
the settled policy of the government to aid in the building of
levees as an important part of river improvement, and I do not doubt
that the time will soon come when this great work will be wholly
done by the government.
We found in Washington one great
engineer who espoused our cause, and this was Captain Eads. He was a
great man, and then a member of the river commission, and we had the
pleasure of hearing him present his views on this question to the
river and harbor committee of the house. I remember his main
argument well but I will not here repeat it.
There was a
man on this committee whose name I remember was Jones, from a
mountain district in Kentucky. How he ever came to be in congress,
and being there, how he ever got to be on this committee, is a
mystery to me. This man continually interrupted Eads with questions
of all kinds, and evidently annoyed him very much. Everbody was
disgusted with him, and for myself I felt like I would like to have
him in Bolivar county and give him a good ducking. Presently he
said, "Captain Eads do you believe it possible to control the waters
of the Mississippi river so as to prevent overflows?" Eads looked at
him a moment before replying and then said: "I would have a great
contempt for the human mind if I did not believe it could do it."
There is no doubt he was right. Give the engineers of these times
Page 296
the means and a free hand and they can do almost
anything. Jones subsided, nor did he again interrupt, either that
night or the next, for he was given a hearing the next night also.
Through the river commission in the lower levee district
we got about four hundred thousand dollars, and were thus enabled
with such means as the levee board had, again to present an unbroken
front for a time at least to the angry floods when they came. In
1884 Colonel Percy, Mr. Hancock, a son of General Hancock, then
living in Coahoma county, and myself were again appointed to go to
Washington on the same errand. What good we accomplished I do not
know, but I do know that this was the beginning of the efforts which
General Catchings has so successfully carried out to educate the
northern mind on the importance of this work, not alone to protect a
few people in the delta, as seemed to be the first impression, but
to do a great work by which all the people of the Union would be
benefitted, for prosperity to the great Delta of Mississippi means
largely prosperity to many states.
Colonel Lamar was
this time in the city and that thorough gentleman, Mr. Arthur, was
the president. He granted us an interview, and, with Colonel Lamar
to introduce us, we went at the appointed hour. The ante-rooms of
the white house were filled with people, men and women, seeking an
audience, and I could not but be sorry for them as the doors all
opened to us. Some of them no doubt never did get in. Mr. Arthur
received us with the ease and courtesy of a gentleman, and said to
us that he understood our condition and knew what we wanted, and
that he would approve any measure congress could be induced to pass
for our relief. More than this we could not ask.
It was
at the 1884 session of the legislature that Mr.
Page 297
Jefferson Davis was present as the guest of the state, to which I
have before alluded. Five years later, in December, 1889, he died. A
meeting of leading citizens was immediately held in the city of
Jackson and a committee appointed from different parts of the state
to attend his funeral in New Orleans, and I received notice that I
was appointed as one of this committee. I at once went to New
Orleans, and found there an immense crowd from all parts of the
south, and many from northern states.
The confederate
cavalry association was permitted to guard his remains, under the
command of Colonel George Moorman, and in my turn I stood at the
head of the open casket in which he lay.
As I looked
upon his worn features, worn, not alone with age but with sorrow, I
could not but feel a pang of regret that he must go down in history
among the great men who have been unsuccessful.
Before
the war I had never been what was known as a Jeff Davis man; he was
a Democrat and I was a Whig, but the force of circumstances, or that
destiny which shapes the lives of men, had made him the embodiment
of southern ideals, and for a time the vicarious sufferer for the
supposed sins of the south, for I will never agree that in seceding
from the union the south sinned, nor do I say that the north sinned
in again, and without the "consent of the governed" (the claptrap of
the demagogues of the day), planting the flag of the union over the
stars and bars. Each side was right from its own standpoint; it was
a family quarrel in which the strongest conquered. May the tongue be
palsied, and the hand withered, which would again stir up strife
between the sections, or try to diminish the glory of either flag,
or the men who defended it while it waived amid fire and
Page
298
smoke above the brave men who fought or died beneath its
folds.
Mr. Davis and the cause he loved have passed
away, and I leave them now, firm in the faith that some Gibbon or
Macaulay, in a time to come, will truly tell their immortal story,
and do equal justice to their brave foes.
In the fall of
1893, I determined for business reasons to become a citizen of
Coahoma county, and in 1895, to my surprise and against my wish, I
was nominated by a Democratic convention to be one of the candidates
for the house of representatives, and was elected, and had the honor
to serve one session as a member of the legislature from that fine
county.
At the close of the session, Governor McLaurin
appointed me the circuit judge of my district. I had long been his
friend, admired his talents and hoped, which hope has been realized,
to see him in a position where they could be used to the best
advantage in the interest of his state and country. But one man in
Mississippi history achieved as great a triumph in overcoming
opposition to his ambition to be a senator from the state, and this
was the incomparable Lamar. That Governor McLaurin may, like this
great man, rise to the height of his great place, is my earnest
wish.
I held the office of circuit judge for one short
term, and retired from it with the warmest gratitude to the great
lawyers of my district, who gave me their support throughout my
term, and without which my services would have been useless to the
state and a burden to myself.
A long knowledge of the
bar as a citizen, as a practitioner, and as a judge, has convinced
me that as a moral power, a power for good or evil in a community,
the local bar of any county exerts a wider and deeper influence
Page 299
than does even the church. I say this with all due
reverence for the church, which is everywhere a power for good, but
it is my matured conviction. Where the local bar is composed of
high-toned, honorable men, who scorn the dirty work of the shyster,
public sentiment, public and private morals, will always be improved
and purified. To the great honor of the bar this is the rule, and
the converse the exception.
Near the middle of my term
as circuit judge time brought to my faithful wife and myself the
fiftieth anniversary of our marriage, the 12th day of January, 1898.
The legislature was in session at the time and did us the unusual
honor, each house separately, of passing complimentary resolutions
and signing them with the names of the members present, and
appointed a committee, my friends, the Hons. W. C. Weathersby and M.
L. Franklin, to attend and present them to us at our home on that
day. These will be souvenirs to be prized and preserved, but the one
which touched us most are the following lines written by my friend
Colonel J. L. Power, the secretary of state, but forever to be known
as the great philanthropist of the state.
He has never
been a rich man, no great college bears his name to commemorate his
deeds, but thousands have lived to bless him, and when in the
fullness of time he passes away thousands will mourn the good man. I
myself could tell many instances of his unostentatious kindness, but
this I know would be distasteful to him, and I forbear.
These lines were signed by each member of the state
government, and I append them just as received:
Page 300
TO JUDGE FRANK A. MONTGOMERY AND WIFE, on the
Fiftieth
Anniversary of their Marriage, January
the 12th, A. D. 1898:
Accept dear good friends on this Jubilee day
The greetings of those who have known
you so well;
May the joys that thus far
has brightened your way
Increase with
your years and in richness excel.
May
your last days be best, and when they shall cease
Secure may you be in the Good Shepherd's
fold,
Where naught can molest, where
you'll find all is peace,
A fitting
finale to your wedding of gold.
A. J. MCLAURIN, Governor, J. L.
POWER, Secretary of State, W. D. HOLDER, Auditor Public Accounts, A.
Q. MAY, State Treasurer, WILEY N. NASH, Attorney-General, JNO. M.
SIMONTON, Land Commissioner, A. A. KINCANNON, State Supt. of Ed., E.
W. BROWN, Clerk Supreme Court, HELEN D. BELL, State Librarian, WIRT
ADAMS, State Revenue Agent. On the 17th of February, 1898,
the faithful friend, the loving wife, was indeed "secure in the Good
Shepherd's fold," but over that time I must draw a veil.
But I must bring these memoirs to a close. I am glad to have
written them, incomplete as I know they are. In looking them over I
see no sentiment I have expressed which I would retract.
If in the slightest degree they have added anything to the
history of my state and its heroic sons, and anything to the history
of the great war in which I bore my part, I am satisfied.
The shadows are falling round me, but there are no
Page
301
clouds to obscure my vision of the future of my country,
great and glorious as it now is, and becoming more and more united
as time rolls on.
The star of Mississippi which once
seemed to have been quenched in the blood of her sons, and made the
paradise of slaves, once more shines with renewed luster amid the
bright galaxy of her sisters, and with them henceforth "one and
inseparable" will shine on forever!
Page 303
INDEX.
Abolition sentiment, 17. Adams, General Wirt, 45, 84, 87.
Adairsville, Georgia, 162. Alatoona, 177. Alcorn Agricultural
College, 10. Alcorn, J. L., 228, 267, 275, 281, 283-287. Alleghany
College, Meadville, Pa., 15. Ancestors, 5. Armageddon, 35.
Armstrong, General Frank C., 84, 150; letter from him, 182, 194,
195, 242. Armstrong driven to Jonesboro, 200. Army of Mississippi,
39. Arsenal at Meadville, 19. Arthur, President, 296. Atlanta, fall
of, 201. Baldwin, author of Armageddon, 35. Battalion organized, 53.
Battalion increased, 61. Battalion increased to regiment, 72. Battle
ground 22d of July, 190. Battle 28th of July, Lick Skillet road,
192. Beal, Captain, killed, 88. Beasley, Lieutenant, killed, 72.
Beasley, Adjutant, mortally wounded, 142. Benton, Mississippi, 155.
Beulah, 34. Birth place, 4. Bolivar county, 32. Bolivar troop, 39.
Bragg, General, 73. Brandon, Mississippi, letter home, 132.
Brittain's lane, 88. Brown, Governor, 13. Brown's, John, raid, 35.
Bruce, B. K. 279. Camp meetings, 24. Camp, in, 45. Campaign, 1875,
290; 1876, 291. Cartersville, Georgia, 164. Cassville, Georgia, 165.
Catching's, Thomas C., first race for congress, 33. Chalmers,
General, 228. Chamberlain, Dr., president of Oakland College, 7-9.
Chambers, Hal, member of congress, 81, 82. Charleston, Mo., 57.
Chattahoochee, 181. Cheatem, General Frank, 53. Clark, Charles, 12,
29, 38, 39, 43, 133. Clark, Charlotte, marriage to her, 29. Clay,
Captain, of Natchez Fencibles, 12. Clay, Green, race for
legislature, 290. Clay, Cassius M., 290. Cleburne, General Pat.,
197. Coe, Milford, 45. Columbia, Tennessee, 112. Columbus occupied,
61. Columbus, Mississippi, 225. Cotton's, Rev., adventure with
robber, 25. Corinth, battle of, 91, 92. Correspondence with
secretary of war, 103, 108. Cosby, General, 122, 147. Crawfordville,
Mississippi, 216. Currency before the war, 32. Customs of the times,
22. Davis, General Reuben, 137. Davis', General Joe, place, 149.
Davis, Mr. Jefferson, 9, 109, 202, 297. Dallas, battle at, 171, 172.
Denmark, battle of, 86, 87. Dixie, 245. Drake, Rev. B. M., 24.
Duffield, General, mustering officer, 13. Dueling an imperious
custom, 27. Duncan, Dr., of Ohio, 7. Eads, Captain, 295. Elected to
board of police, 37. Elected to legislature, 293. Elliot, Henry, boy
from New York, 223, 226, 236, 248, 249. Etowah river, 168. Eutaw,
Alabama, 234. Execution, military, 231. Fairburn, Georgia, 203.
Fayette, scout to, and incidents, 133. Fight in Coldwater bottom
with Grierson, 97. First fight, 67. Florey, clerk, 271. Foote, Henry
S., 9. Forrest, General, 112, 145, 226, 227. Gayden, Frank, 57, 58.
Goldbug, 218. Grampus, 60. Grant, General, 111. Gregg, General, 101.
Grenada, 102. Page 304
Gunboats 61. Gunboats and Grampus,
63. Hardee, General, 163, 202. Hatchie river, rout federal cavalry,
90. Herndon, Lieutenant D. C., elected mayor, 61. Herrin, Gadi, 69,
79; killed, 171. Herrin's Captain, exploit, 131. Hickman, Ky., 60.
High, Private, killed by lightning, 131. Hinds, General Thomas, 12.
Hogg, Colonel, killed, 85. Holly Springs, army at, 94. Homicides,
rare among slaves, 21. Hood, General, 182, 188, 201. Hovey, General,
fights with him, 80, 81. Humphries, Governor, removed from office,
268. Hunt, Mr. David, founder of Oakland College, 7, 11. Indians,
26. Insanity almost unknown among slaves, 21. Introduction, 1, 3.
Jackson, General Andrew, 4, 5. Jackson, General W. H., 84, 164, 154;
Id. 161, 194, 223, 232. Jackson besieged, 129. Jackson, driven
through, 157. Jones, Jake, 112, 113. Johnston, Albert Sidney, 71.
Johnston, General Joseph E., 163; battle order, 165; removal, 182.
Johnson, Adjutant, killed, 249. Kennedy, Captain T. B., 205. King's
battery, 149. King, Captain, of Noxubee, killed, 221. Kilpatrick's
raid (General) 193. Kingsley, Orrin, killed, 221. Lafayette, Ala.,
207. Lauderdale Springs, Miss., 216. Levees, 33. Legislature of
1870, 274, 275. Lexington, Miss., 135. Lee, General S. D., 143, 147,
192. Lincoln's election (President), 36; his assassination, 256.
Lindsay, Colonel, commands regiment, 72. Lovejoy Station, 202.
Lynch, John R., 271. Marion, Ala., 236. Martin, General W. T., 50.
McGehee, Miles H., 38, 77. McMackin, General, hotel keeper, 14.
Memphis, 47, 49. Medon, 85. Mechanicsburg, 128. Meridian, 152.
Militia muster, Meadville, Pa., 19. Militia drills in Mississippi,
23. Mississippi, a nation, 39. Mike, Captain, 143. Montgomery,
Major, 116. Moscow, 145. Moorman, Colonel Geo., 154. Music of the
times, 23. Napoleon, old town, 31. Negroes in Meadville, Pa., 17; in
south old times, 21. Negro preachers and fiddlers, 23. New Madrid
occupied, 55. Newnan, Georgia, 181. New Hope Church, 169. Negroes as
jurors, 273, 277, 278. Oakland College, 6, 10. Organization of
regiment, 74. Ordered to Georgia, 150. Orders from General W. H.
Jackson, 203, 206, 209, 210, 211. Orr, Colonel, member congress,
229. Pemberton, General, 100, 127, 129. Percy, Colonel W. A., 294.
Phelan, James S., 230. Pioneer Methodist preachers, 25. Pillow,
General G. J., 46, 56. Pinson, Colonel R. A., 90, 146, 154, 177,
195, 239, 242, 255, 256. Polk, General, 71, 152, 176. Pontotoc, 143.
Power, Colonel J. L., 299. Prentiss, S. S., duels with Mr. Foote,
27. Quilting bees, 25. Railroad, one in state, 22. Ragsdale House,
258. Review, Jackson's division, 135. Reconstruction, 268. Reign of
carpet-bagger, 271, 274. Ripley, 91. Richland, Miss., barbecue and
flag, 138. Roster of Bolivar troop, 47, 49. Ross, Colonel, 136. Ross
and Pinson ordered to Tennessee valley, 139. Saunders, Ned, 70.
Selma, Ala., 237 to 242. Sergeant, Federal, 243. Sharkey, Judge,
130. Sherman, General, 139, 148. Sharon, Miss., 153. Sillers,
Joseph, 116, 117. Sims, Captain, of Texas, 205. Simral, Judge H. F.,
267. Southern society--old-time cotton planters, 20. Spring Hill,
112. Starke, General Peter B., 147. Stafford, Chancellor, 281.
Stripes only left on flag, 275. Star shines again, 301. Sykes,
Captain E. O., now circuit judge, 103. Sykes Captain Thos. B., 216.
Sykeston, Mo., 56. Tappan, General, 64. Page 305
Taylor,
General Dick, 128, 160, 185, 222, 226; his opinion of Forrest.
Taylor, Captain J. R., 222. Texans on a spree, 213, 214. Thompson,
General M. Jeff., 53, 75. Trimble, Judge, 270, 276. Tuscumbia, Ala.,
140. Tupelo, 221. Tyler, General, West Point, Ga., 206, 207. Union
City, 53. Van Dorn, General, 91, 111, 112. Villages, old, 4.
Villipigue, General, 75. Vicksburg, fall of, 126. Vote of Bolivar
county in 1857, 37. War over, 259, 260. Watson's battery, 64.
Watson, Gus., 64. Wallace, Count, 134. West, Colonel Cato, 5.
Wheeler, General, 162. White, Lieutenant-Colonel, of Indiana, 250,
252. Wilson's raid (General), 236, 251, 253. Yates, Dr., of
Meadville, Pa., 19. Yancey's opinion (Mr.), 132. Yazoo Delta, cross
in dug-out, 114, 115, 258. Yerger, judge William, 151. © Copyright
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