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Confederate Veteran
1893
Pg 12
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HILLYER ON GRANT AT SHILOH.
The good wife of Gen. W. S. Hillyer has furnished the VETERAN with the following
letter, written to her just after the great battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg
Landing. It gives an account quite interesting and different to what our people
have seen. There are a few brief omissions: PITTSBURG, April 11, 1862.
On the Battle field. The excitement of the great battle is in a manner
subsiding, and my thoughts are constantly reverting to the place where my heart
and home are. As I stated to you before, I arrived at Savannah early Sunday
morning about half past four o'clock. While we were at breakfast, about seven
o'clock, a gentleman reported that heavy cannonading was heard in the direction
of Pittsburg, which is about nine miles from Savannah. The General and staff
hurried down to our dispatch boat, the " Tigress," and started up the
river. When about half way we met a boat coming down and received from her a
dispatch stating that the enemy had attacked our center and right at daylight,
driven our center back and a heavy fight was raging.
We arrived at Pittsburg about half past eight o'clock, got on our horses and
galloped out to the battle field. Arrived there we found the enemy had attacked
and were engaging our right and center in overwhelming force and our troops were
falling back. We met hundreds of cowardly renegades fleeing to the river and
reporting their regiments cut to pieces. We tried in vain to rally and return
them to the front. We rode on to the center, ordering all the reinforcements we
could command, and soon I found myself in the midst of a shower of cannon and
musket balls. Cool and undismayed as ever, the General issued his orders and
sent his aides flying over the field. While executing an order a cannon ball
passed within two feet of my horse's head, and a cavalry captain near by called
out to me, "Did it hit you, Captain?"
Soon after there was a lull in the center, and the heaviest firing was on our right. We galloped over there and rode along the line when the battle was raging fiercely. At this time our forces had been driven back about a mile and the enemy had taken a large portion of our division (General Prentiss') prisoners. Suddenly there was a lull on the right as well as the center) and most of us thought that the enemy were worsted and retiring. "Not
so "General Grant said. " I don't like this quiet. I fear the enemy are concentrating on our left" (where we were weakest). "Captain Hillyer, ride over and order a company of cavalry to make a
reconnaissance on the left." " Yes, sir, where shall I find you on my return?" said I. " Wherever you hear the heaviest firing," was the consoling reply. And, when I had executed the order, the only guide I had back to the General was the heaviest musketry and cannonading. In the meantime he had ordered reinforcements to the left, and his apprehensions were well founded. But a few minutes had elapsed when the enemy attacked us with desperate courage on our left. One continuous roar of artillery, varied only by the unceasing rattle of musketry, was heard, and Death, with fifty thousand mowers, stalked over the field. Oh! it was an awful day. From then till dark apprehension of defeat, knowledge of the terrible slaughter and shadows of
the direful consequences of defeat filled our hearts with sorrowful forebodings, but General Grant was still as calm and confident as ever. " We'll whip them yet!" was his reply to the announcement that our troops were falling back, and his confidence inspired all his command.
Gen, Lew Wallace's division, which was at Crump's Landing, on the river, between
Pittsburgh and Savannah, a force ten thousand strong, were ordered to move up to
Pittsburgh about eleven o'clock. They were but four miles distant, and should have been there by noon. Every moment we expected to hear from them, but by some unpardonable delay they came not We assured the left that Wallace would soon be up to reinforce them, and, thus encouraged, our forces stood their ground against desperate odds. But the field was being strewn with our killed and wounded, and the battle raged hotter and hotter.
About two o'clock General Buell arrived. One of his divisions (General Nelson's) was marching and would soon arrive opposite Pittsburg, where boats waited to carry them over. In answer to General Grant's inquiry as to his other forces, Buell informed him that General Crittenden's command had been halted two miles from Savannah to await further orders. General Grant immediately ordered me to proceed to Savannah with sufficient boats and order Crittenden to move immediately to the river with his men and embark for
Pittsburgh, leaving his transportation and baggage behind.
I got to Savannah about half past three, rode out to Crittenden's camp and gave the order, which he received with the utmost enthusiasm, for there he was, within hearing of the battle, and without permission to advance. I asked him where was McCook's division. He said just behind him, and Wood's just behind McCook's. What should I do? I had no orders except for Crittenden, but we needed all the reinforcements we could get. I quickly determined to assume the responsibility. I sat down and wrote an order in General Grant's name and dispatched a courier, ordering General McCook to leave his transportation and move his available force immediately to the river to be transported to
Pittsburgh. I sent the same order to General Wood, and followed it with an order to General Thomas, who was a few miles behind Wood. I returned to Savannah, there, I remembered, we had three regiments. I thought they were not needed there. I again assumed responsibility and ordered two of the regiments to embark for
Pittsburgh. I made all the arrangements for transportation and returned to report to General Grant. By this time it was night. I found the General and the rest of his staff stretched on the ground, without a tent or any protection, and the rain pouring down
I reported to the General what I had done, he said I had done exactly right. In consequence of my assumption of responsibility we had, in addition to Crittenden's and Nelson's commands, the whole of McCook's and a part of Wood's division, together with two regiments from Savannah, in the fight the next day, and we needed them all
Sunday evening the enemy had pushed our lines back until their batteries almost commanded our transports, a little further and they would have made it impossible to land our reinforcements. But, fortunately, they got within range of our two gunboats, which were lying anchored in the river, and which opened upon them with a perfect shower of shells. Night never was more welcome to any poor mortals than that night to our little army at Pittsburg. I say "little army" because our force at Pittsburg at this time did not exceed forty thousand men. * * * Wallace's division had not arrived, nor any of Buell's command. Notwithstanding this disparity, we labored under another serious disadvantage, the enemy, being the attacking party, could concentrate their whole force at any point, while we were compelled to maintain our lines on the right, left and center, not knowing what moment the enemy might shift their position under cover of the woods.
Before morning we had received twenty five thousand reinforcements, and before Monday's battle was over ten thousand more.
Sunday night General Grant ordered that at the break of day our forces should advance on the right, left and center, attacking the enemy all around the lines wherever he could be found.
The first dawn of morning lighted our men onward toward the foe. In a few moments our whole line was engaged, and the battle raged with even more severity than on Sunday. The enemy were moving forward with the confidence inspired by their partial success on the preceding day,
ours with the confidence inspired by the knowledge that we had been reinforced. I have not time to describe this day's action. It was the most
terrible conflict I have ever witnessed. Our line of battle engaged at one time could not have been less than five or six miles, and wherever the battle raged hottest General Grant could be seen with his staff. At one time the rebels evidently distinguished him as a commanding general, for they opened a battery which filled the air around us with bursting shells and solid shot, and, as we advanced along the line, they followed us for a quarter of a mile. Fortunately, the range was a little too high, and the ricochet passed beyond us. One ball passed under the General's horse. I rode over the battle field after the battle. Our men were busy burying the dead. The scene was horrible. Hundreds and hundreds of dead bodies strewed the ground. For miles and miles, wherever we rode, we found dead bodies scattered through the woods in every direction.
Oh! there will be many desolate homes and comfortless hearts as the details of this battle are known through the country. Many a mourning Rachel will find little consolation in the victory which finally crowned our arms. But future ages will look with admiration on the desperate valor of our troops and bless the memory of the dead who fell at Pittsburg fighting for the maintenance of our good government. You and I cannot be too grateful to the kind Providence who has preserved your husband and our children's father through these two terrible days.
I have seen enough of war. God grant that it may be speedily terminated. I cannot
retire now till we have driven the enemy from Corinth. When that is done I think I will leave it to others to finish up this rebellion, which I look upon as already mortally wounded. * * *
Kiss my little darlings for papa. Tell them that papa's thoughts often went after them, even during the excitement of the battle field, and nothing but a sense of duty reconciled him to the risking of his life. Good bye. God bless you. Your husband, W. S. HILLYER.
POINT LOOKOUT PRISON REMINISCENCES.
When in Richmond, Va., May 31st last, in attendance at the burial of Jefferson Davis, the editor of the VETERAN had a most interesting conversation with Mr. Albert W. Traylor, of that city, concerning his experiences as a prisoner of war at Point Lookout, Md.
Mr. Traylor is of the sixth generation in direct descent from William Traylor, the first of the name in the Colony of Virginia, who married in 1695 Judith, daughter of George and Elizabeth (Harris) Archer, and settled on what was then the Western frontier, patenting about three thousand acres of land on the north side of the Appomattox River, just opposite and above the site of the present city of Petersburg. He is now in his seventy second year, having been born in Chesterfield County, May 5,1822, and while his physical strength is somewhat impaired by a partial paralysis, his memory is still very clear.
Mr. Traylor was a private in Company E, 21st Va. Infantry, Terry's Brigade, Gordon's Division, A. N. V., stationed at Camp Ewell, and was captured before Petersburg on March 25, 1865, when Gordon made a brilliant but unsuccessful assault against the enemy's right. He was imprisoned at Point Lookout and held there for seventy two days after the surrender at Appomattox, his parole bearing date June 21, 1865.
The number of prisoners taken exceeded, perhaps, 1,500. Officers and privates were separated, and after the usual formalities of marching from one headquarters to another to be listed, counted, weighed and prepared for shipment, which proceeding consumed the entire day, the privates were all loaded in and upon box and flat cars and taken to City Point, where they were that night herded in a pen, like so many cattle, and in the morning given a cup of coffee and a piece of bread and meat each, marched on board a boat and shipped to Point Lookout.
This cape, or promontory, is situated at the mouth of the Potomac, having that river on the south and west, and Chesapeake Bay on the east. The area of this prison comprised probably twenty five acres, inclosed by a strong plank fence about sixteen feet high, with a guard walk or parapet. It was used as a prison during the greater part of the war, and had, as he understood, at the time of his imprisonment more than twenty thousand inmates, who were lodged in tents that covered the entire inclosure except the passageways, or "streets',' as they were called, seven men being quartered in an "A" tent, which occupied a space of seven feet square. The tents were without floors, no straw was provided, and unless a prisoner was so fortunate as to have saved his blanket or oilcloth he was obliged to sleep on the bare ground. They were set apart by divisions, like the wards of a city, and the daily routine consisted of roll call about six o'clock, a pint tin cup of coffee, and about half a loaf of baker's bread, which was of excellent quality, with a raw piece of codfish or mackerel served to each prisoner as they marched in divisions by the "cookhouse" about eight or nine o'clock, and the same tin cup of pea or bean soup, with the same quantity of bread, and a small piece of corn beef or salt pork, similarly served, about one or two o'clock. This constituted a day's " rations," and while it never was, perhaps, satisfactory, it was so much better, and, for the most part, so much more than they had for some time previously been able to secure in the army camps, that the murmuring was not so great as might have been expected, and no man suffered for food. Maj. A. J. Brady, of the United States Army. was then Provost Marshal or Commandant of the prison, and is especially remembered by Mr. Traylor as a man of good temper and kind heart. His tribute to his character was indeed a glowing one, and he concluded by saying that it would even yet afford him pleasure to go to any inconvenience to do him honor, if alive, or to do reverence to his memory, if dead, adding that Major Brady's consideration in the treatment of the unfortunates there imprisoned did more than any other one thing to prepare him for acceptance in proper spirit the results of the war.
Religious services were conducted by the men in some part of the prison almost daily, and by ministers from Baltimore and Washington on Sundays. Thousands were baptized by immersion in the Chesapeake Bay. A thriving business was done by some of those for whom the food allowance was unsatisfactory, in washing the clothing of their fellows, the pay being a part of the rations of the one served. Petty thefts of rations, etc., were common and fisticuffs frequent, but the punishments were never harsh or severe.
FIRST CAPTURE OF FEDERALS AT SEA.
At the meeting of Columbia County Camp, No. 150, Confederate Veterans, at Lake City, Fla., on the 17th of August, the name was changed to E. A. Perry Camp, in honor of the late Governor Perry, who so bravely commanded the Florida brigade in the Army of Northern Virginia.
A resolution was passed indorsing the CONFEDERATE VETERAN, published at Nashville, Tenn.
This camp has the original flag presented to the Columbia Rifles in 1861, under which the first capture of Federals was made by Confederates on the sea. The capture was made off Cedar Keys, July 3, 1861, Lieutenant Seldon and Eighth Marines. The old flag was left at home by the company after a regimental flag for the Second Florida was obtained.
This Camp meets regularly on first Tuesday in October, January, April, and July.
Funds are being raised for the Davis monument, and to purchase the Confederate Home in Jacksonville.
An ever faithful Confederate veteran, of Columbia, Tenn., writes about the Confederate officers buried at Ashwood: "Their graves are almost unmarked and unknown. If their old comrades' attention was called to the fact, they might bring their remains to our beautiful Confederate lot in this city, where we have head and foot stones to 131 graves and a handsome monument to their memory. It is kept in perfect order by the women of Columbia, and will forever be so cared for. The thing to do is to remove them here and their old comrades contribute to build suitable monuments to their memory. Leonidas Polk Bivouac, No. 3, will attend to the removal."
Mrs. Jas. G. Marshall, Gloster, La.: "Wife of an old veteran and an old veteran myself. Inclosed find $1.50 for three subscriptions to your CONFEDERATE VETERAN. I shall continue to do what I can to aid the dearly loved lost cause, and hope most sincerely, the time will soon come when the CONFEDERATE VETERAN will be read in every family in the South, and faithfully read by the young people more particularly than the old veterans.
CONFEDERATE CABINET.
BY A. M. SEA, JR., LOUISVILLE.
PRESIDENT.
NAME BORN DIED
Jefferson Davis Ky., June 3, 1808..... Beauvoir, Miss., Dec. 6, 1889.
VICE PRESIDENT.
Alex, H. Stephens.......Ga" Feb. 11, 1812......Atlanta, Ga., March 4, 1883.
SECRETARY OF STATE.
Robert Toombs ..........Ga" July 2, 1810...... Washington,Ga.,Dec.15,1885
Robert M. T, Hunter...Va., April 21, 1809... Essex Co., Va., July 19, 1887.
Judah P. Benjamin.. ...W.I., Aug. 10, 1811.. Paris, France, May 8, 1884.
SECRETARY OF TREASURY.
C. G. Memminger.......Ger., Jan. 9, 1803...... Charleston, S.C.,Mch. 7,1888.
George A. Trenholm ..S. C., Feb. 25, 1807... Charleston, S.C" Dec. 10,1876.
SECRETARY OF WAR.
Leroy P. Walker...........Ala., July 8, 1817..... Huntsville,Ala.,Aug.22,1884.
Judah P. Benjamin....,. W. I., Aug. 10, 1811..Paris, France, May 8, 1884.
George W. Randolph. Va" March 10, 1818.. near Charlottesville, Va.,
April 10,1878.
James A. Seddon........ Va., July 13, 1815.....Goochland Co., Va" Aug. 19,1880
John C. Breckinridge. Ky.. Jan. 21, 1821.....Lexington, Ky., May 17,1875.
SECRETARY OF NAVY.
Stephen R. Mallory ..... W. I., 1803 ...............Pensacola, Fla., Nov. 9, 1873.
ATTORNEY GENERAL.
Judah P. Benjamin...... W. I, Aug. 10, 1811.. Paris, France, May 8, 1884.
Thomas Bragg...............N. C., Nov. 9, 1810... Raleigh, N. C., Jan. 2, 1872.
Thomas H. Watts ........ Ala., Jan. 3, 1819 ..... Montgomery,Ala.,Sep.l6,'92.
George Davis................................................................................................
POSTMASTER GENERAL.
John H. Reagan ...........Tenn., Oct. 8, 1818......... .........................................
IN THE OLD NORTH STATE.
REUNION OF THE COL. CHAS. F. FISHER CAMP.
The Salisbury Herald, September 14 : Today has belonged to the ex Confederate veterans of Rowan County, and they have been here in numbers. Incidents of the war have been recalled and camp life lived over. Veterans were here today who never attended a reunion before, and comrades have met for the first time in years. The day has been a most pleasant one to all the old soldiers, and will be remembered for years.
The veterans were called together at 11 o'clock by martial music, the band being composed of part of the old band of the 49th North Carolina Regiment. The music caused the "old boys" to gather quickly, and the main room of the courthouse way goon comfortably filled with them.
The assembly was called to order by Col. James R. Crawford, who asked Mr. A. A. Boyden to explain the objects of the meeting. Mr. Boyden told how the idea of having a permanent organization of the veterans of Rowan County started five years ago, from which the Rowan Veteran Regiment grew, and since that time annual meetings had been held. The organization was non partizan and non political, and gladly received all honorably discharged ex Confederate soldiers. Last spring a Camp was organized. This Camp took the name of Col. Charles F. Fisher, and was chartered as No. 319, United Confederate Veterans.
Pending the election of officers an invitation was extended to all veterans who had not already done so to sign the Camp register. Quite a number of names were added to the list, swelling the total number to over 300 the largest enrollment in the history of the organization.
The old officers of the Camp were unanimously re elected, and are as follows: First CommanderJames R. Crawford. Second Commander I. Frank Patterson. Third Commander Wm. H. Overman. Adjutant Cicero R. Barker. Quartermaster Thos. B. Beall. Commissary Robt. W. Price. Commissary Sergeant Wm. A. Lipe. Chaplain Rev. W. H. Leith, D. D. Surgeon Dr. J. A. Caldwell. Assistant Surgeon Dr. E. Rose Dorsett. Secretary and Treasurer W. L. Kluttz. Advisory Board E. B. Neave, D. A. Atwell, W. C. Coughenour.
After the election of the officers Mr. Boyden introduced to them Rev. Dr. Leith. Dr. Leith was liberally applauded. His excellent address was carefully prepared, and delivered with eloquence and patriotic fervor. The hearts of the veterans were filled with enthusiasm.
On motion of Mr. C. R. Barker, it was ordered that credentials be issued to any veteran who would volunteer to attend the reunion at Birmingham, Ala., next month. The Camp is entitled to fifteen delegates to this reunion, which will bring together representatives of every Southern State.
The CONFEDERATE VETERAN, published at Nashville, Tenn., was made the official organ of the Camp.
The routine business being finished, the Camp adjourned for dinner. The veterans formed in line on the street and marched to the brick warehouse, where dinner was served. There were 265 men in line, and between 275 and 300 old soldiers were given dinner. All enjoyed the good things provided by the ladies of Salisbury and served by them. Dinner over, the crowd dispersed and scattered in groups on the streets, where tales of war times were related.
As a whole, the meeting was the most successful one ever held. The men are loud in their praises of the manner in which it was conducted.
AMUSING INCIDENTS AT SPOTSYLVANIA, VA. On the 12th of May, 1864, the hard, all day struggle, when brigade after brigade had been rushed in to regain the ground lost early in the morning, on the spot where dead and wounded men, horses, and disabled artillery told of the deadly strife, where a man, after trying it awhile, if not killed or wounded, looked anxiously for the next relief to come up, late in the evening our (Humphreys) brigade was rushed in to relieve another that had served its time. While passing along the line of low earthworks to take our allotted position, one of the men in front of us, who had been sorely pressed, and was thinking seriously of the rear, cried out, " Are you all fresh troops? " Alter repeating the question several times, getting louder and louder every time, Pat Burns, a cool, brave Irishman of my company, yelled back at the fellow., " Yis, we niver was in a fight before." A few minutes later, when we were ordered to take our places in the shallow trenches, we found them occupied by dead and wounded, and among them a big six footer lying prone on his face, as still as a mouse, seemingly dead, and in the place that then belonged to Pat. The Irishman was nonplussed. He did not want to molest the dead or wounded. But soon the very position of the man aroused his suspicion, and, jumping astride of him and grabbing him by the shoulders, jerking him up and down, said, " Are you dead?" When the fellow rolled up the white of his eyes, showing he was. " possoming," Pat hauled him out and started him to the rear. It created a laugh, though in the midst of extreme danger. W. GART.JOHNSON.
HISTORY OF THE MISSOURI CONFEDERATE HOME.
ST. LOUIS, Mo., Sept. 15, 1893.
Mr. S. A. Cunningham, editor CONFEDERATE VETERAN" : Dear Sir Your query of how we managed to acquire the "wonderful" Confederate Home of Missouri, which you saw at Higginsville, I find rather difficult to answer. There was as much "don't" as "do," First, in 1881. we organized a State ex Confederate Association, social and benevolent, and began to hold annual reunions. And, also first, we resolved to keep out of politics, which was easy, then we did keep out, which was not easy. It took long years to convince politicians that this was one society which could not be used. Then they let us alone, and we gradually secured the confidence and sympathy of all the people.
Local societies were organized in the cities to relieve the worthy distressed and discourage unworthy beggars. A few solicited and distributed money. Meetings were open and the public invited. Gradually, as public confidence increased, and as the helpless increased in number, grew the sentiment that we must have a Home, and agitation began. At last, in 1889, public sentiment seemed to have reached the right point, a charter was secured, and in the summer of 1890 it was found that a few generous men had given $10,000 on the promise that a Home would be built. Then the Executive Committee, composed of one Vice President from each congressional district, at last resolved to build the Home, and the word was passed over the State that we "meant business."
Nine years' patient work had produced a powerful State society, and the simple fact that there were no political rewards in sight had secured unselfish officers, who were known to be working solely for the good of others. Here was the real secret of the success which surprised you so much.
The next move was to organize county societies, each reporting to their district Vice President. And still another was to take up a collection in the school districts at the annual school election, which produced $13,000. This involved the sending of circulars into ten thousand school districts, which was done by the generous aid of the County Clerks.
Then a job was "put up" on our State officers, Senators and House of Representatives. They innocently permitted the use of the hall of the House of Representatives for a lecture on the Confederate Home, whereupon a "joint and concurrent resolution" appropriating one day's pay of every State officer, representative and employee, was sprung upon them, approved by the Governor, and unanimously passed, a large audience of ladies being given woman suffrage for that occasion. Net results, $1,600, and the State was in a manner committed to the good work.
Then an entirely unexpected help was received from the women of Missouri, who organized as "Daughters of the Confederacy," and proceeded to give balls, picnics, strawberry and ice cream festivals, etc. In two counties, where the men could not raise a dollar, the local D. O. C. raised over $1,000 each. In all, they raised over $25,000, and paid for the main building.
The State was regularly canvassed, mass meetings being held and speeches made in nearly every county, and the proceedings were reported by wire to the daily papers. Editors, clergymen, Union soldiers everybody joined in raising funds Vice Presidents gave time and money to canvass their districts, and all concerned hammered while the iron was hot. The results are, $100,000 received in three years, the house paid for, and cash on hand for a year's expenses ahead.
Ours is an industrial Home, where all work who are able. The farm comprises 362 acres of rich land, on which is raised most of the breadstuffs, all of the vegetables and part of the meats. Twelve cottages are occupied by fourteen families, each having its own garden and a "share" in a cow. A fine chapel in which religious services are held twice a week. families are not admitted into the main building, which will accommodate one hundred single men.
The number of inmates during the past two years has averaged between fifty and eighty. Present number, eighty five. Many have regained strength and voluntarily withdrawn, and a few, I regret to say, have left involuntarily. The number of inmates is rapidly increasing, and it is probable that we will find it more difficult to "run" the Home than to build it. But. as we have an institution which invokes a feeling of State pride on inspection, it is quite certain that a people great enough to build it will cheerfully pay the running expenses. Our only salaried officials are the Superintendent and Surgeon, and their pay is about one half of that paid for similar services in State institutions.
No Confederate soldier in Missouri need now go to the poor house or beg on the streets. This feeling recompenses for the hard work. The disabled veteran has a home now, as beautiful within as without, heated by steam, lighted by gas, and furnished like a first class hotel. Standing on an eminence commanding a rich landscape for miles around, the main building, surrounded by rich fields with abundant crops, fat cattle, stands as a monument attesting peace and Christian charity in a State where war was waged more bitterly than ever before on American soil,
H. M. Cook, Belton, Texas. "At our Belle County ex Confederate reunion we had a magnificent time and a great deal of enthusiasm. There was an attendance of seven or eight thousand, and the cause is growing in interest. We are learning our children to know that their fathers fought for a principle, and that they are neither rebels nor traitors." The letter contained twenty one subscriptions.
Wm. King, Jr., Lynchburg, Va.: " I think you are doing a great work for the people of the South, and it would afford me much pleasure to serve you materially and effectually, should there be presented any way for my doing so."
ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC TO NIGHT.
BY LAMAR FONTAINE, OF WASHINGTON, TEXAS.
'' All quiet along the Potomac to night," they say,
Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket,
'Tis nothing a private or two, now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle,
Not an officer lost, only one of the men,
Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle,
All quiet along the Potomac to night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming,
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
And the light of the watch fires are gleaming,
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night wind
Thro' the forest leaves slowly is creeping,
While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard o'er the army while sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain ,
His musket falls slack , his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,
And their mother " May Heaven defend her! "
The moon seems to shine as bright as it did then .
That night when the love, yet unspoken,
Leap'd up to his lips, and when low murmured vows,
Were pledged to be ever unbroken ,
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun close up to his breast,
As if to keep down the heart's swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
And his footstep is lagging and weary ,
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shades of the forest so dreary ,
Hark I was it the night wind that rustled the leaves"
Was it moonlight, so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle "Ha! Mary, good bye!"
And his life blood is ebbing and plashing.
All quiet along the Potomac to night ,
No sound, save the rush of the river,
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead
The picket's off duty forever.
Co OPERATING with the general brotherhood, the Ex Confederate Association of Missouri, at its Higginsville reunion, adopted the following:
Resolved, that the Ex Confederate Association of Missouri, is in perfect sympathy with the purposes and objects of the United Confederate Veterans, and while we have not heretofore united ourselves with their organization, because we already had in progress the establishment of a permanent Home for needy Confederate soldiers and their families, when said United Confederate Veterans was inaugurated,
And, whereas, we have now accomplished our purposes, and are ready to harmonize with, and aid in carrying out the objects of said Veterans' Association, we do hereby tender to them our heartfelt sympathies and best wishes, and express our readiness to co operate with them."
W. B. Cornell, Winston, N. C., writing for three subscribers, adds: "I like the VETERAN. It is what I have been wanting for the last ten years. I was in the Confederate Army four years and two months, Company K., Tenth North Carolina Regiment."
WILLIE PRESTON DEAD
Lines in memory of a gallant young officer, who fell in one of the hardest fought battles of the late war:
Leave me to my speechless sorrow,
Leave me to my pallid gloom,
Shut away the mocking sunlight,
Take its burden from the room
What are words but empty rattle,
Words that murmur of relief,
In the deadly single handed
Struggle with the monster, grief?
Can I reason down my anguish ?
Can I talk my pain away ?
Let the door be closed between us,
Let me meet it as I may
Dead ! poor lips repeat, repeat it,
Wrench from out that word of dread,
All the sharpest sting of meaning
Wrapped within it, HE IS DEAD
Dead! my Willie in his beauty,
E'er the morning flush of joy
Yet had caught the chastening shadow
Manhood flings around the boy.
Dead ! my loving, gentle hearted,
Noblest, bravest of the brave,
Fallen midst the rush of battle,
Buried in a nameless grave
He whose look and tone grew tender
At a dear one's faintest moan,
All unwatched, unwept, unheeded,
He to perish thus, alone
Who can tell me of his longings?
If he named his father's name,
If he softly murmered "SISTER,"
When the ghastly struggle came "
If he breathed no parting message,
As he pale and placid lay,
If his radiant smile still lingered
When his soul had passed away ?
If a consecrating calmness
Kept upon his day cold brow?
None can tell me! These are secrets
God hath in his keeping now.
All love's sweetest ministrations,
All its needs for him are o'er.
Never will he cross the threshold
Of the old familiar door.
Never will his ringing laughter
Echo joyous through the hall,
Never will I answer gaily
To his fond caressing call.
Never press his smooth white forehead,
Never stroke his shining hair,
Never feel his arm about me,
Never greet his smile so rare
Ever miss the matchless kindness
Strewn through every word he said,
Ever wail that blank of absence,
Ever mourn my darling dead
Dead ! oh, grief has drowned my vision,
Blotted all the gladness o'er,
Made me half forget " be liveth "
As he never lived before.
That he was not all so lonely,
Tho' no loved one closed his eye,
That the blessed Christ sustained him
When he laid him down to die,
M. J. P.
SUGGESTIONS TO SUBSCRIBERS.
Don't buy postoffice orders for small amounts, postage stamps or postal notes are better, being less expensive. In sending stamps let them be of two cents each, One cent stamps are admissible, but larger are inconvenient. In sending clubs, where the work Is complimentary, as it so generally is, deduct cost of exchange.
Our earnest comrades and friends who are zealous for the CONFEDERATE VETERAN can do it a valuable service by disabusing the minds of indifferent persons who think it is specially for old soldiers, and assuring them it is of today, pulsating with full life in accord with the times. Its purpose is to show the South in a true light, and to honor those who sacrificed property, comfort, and often life, through their devotion to principle,
This would make two years between meetings, a thing that should never occur again while two Confederates live to meet in behalf of the great purposes that induced the organization.
Reunions in the States yet to occur will no doubt be more largely attended, and that is well. Augusta talks about a general gathering there at the time of the Exposition , that is well also.
The position of Gen. W. L. Cabell ''Old Tige" in favor of the postponement tends largely to reconciliation by those who know him, for there is no man who followed the flag of the Confederacy from the time a cotton boll, sewed to a piece of green cambric, was the emblem, until the last red cross, riddled with bullets and thickened by the life blood of its ensigns, who has been truer and more constantly faithful to his people.
POSTPONEMENT OF THE REUNION.
Nothing ever done since organization of United Confederate Veterans was so unfortunate as the " indefinite postponement of the reunion from October 2d and 3d. It was much more than a year from the gathering at New Orleans (April, 1892,) to the dates set in last August. The first postponement to September 15th and 16th seemed well enough, and then, under the circumstances, concurrence was had, without murmur, to October. But then many comrades had arranged to attend from nearly every section of the South, actuated not only in the important interests to be considered and acted upon at Birmingham, but they wanted to attend the great exposition at Chicago, and anticipated benefits by the demonstration at the unveiling of the Confederate monument there, which would have concerned intelligent people from nearly every nation in the world. This opportunity is lost beyond recovery, and advantages in other ways cannot ever be so opportune again.
It seems that rates on the railroads should have been known long in advance, and then the question of ability to attend was with individuals. East of the Mississippi there is much disappointment. Then, considerations for Birmingham should have had serious concern before the postponement. In the chaos occasioned by the blowing out and banking of furnaces and suspension of banks, plucky patriots of that remarkable city went right ahead in their preparations and built the Winnie Davis Wigwam at the cost of thousands of dollars. They kept organized and ready for all emergencies at a sacrifice that can hardly be realized. This last "indefinite postponement" was greatly disappointing to them, and they must be at sea about what to expect in the future.
The VETERAN, without a word of counsel, and with the single motive of justice to all and the greatest good to the greatest number, EXPECTS TO ADVOCATE A GENERAL REUNION AT BIRMINGHAM IN THE EARLY SPRING..
GENERAL MOORMAN WRITES ABOUT THE REUNION, This letter of General Moorman, in reply to earnest inquiry, is given, although evidently not intended for publication. It was urged that the reunion be held, whether General Underwood was ready or not for the unveiling at Chicago. The letter is dated Sept. 20th :
The postponement of the reunion had no reference to General Underwood. He was not consulted about it until the postponement was about settled. It was done by Generals Gordon and Cabell acting together, very reluctantly, but in obedience to an almost universal request from nearly all the States. They saw that there could not be even a fair representation of delegates to transact business. There will come up very important business for consideration at the next reunion, and every Camp should be represented. General Cabell said the railroad rates were so high in the Trans Mississippi territory to Birmingham as to make it prohibitory. No rates had been announced east of the Mississippi, but the lowest expected would have been one or one and one third fare. At this time the old veterans could not pay these rates, and so wrote here from every quarter. It would have been cruel to have had a reunion and expected delegates, many of them too poor to pay out money as the times now are. Again, the postponements have not hurt the Association. On the contrary, it has steadily grown in the face of it. * * * Enthusiasm is high now in North and South Carolina, Georgia and Arkansas, and General Cabell is going into Missouri, so that we may reach six hundred Camps by the date the reunion is held.
The Birmingham people were fully consulted. The postponement gives the greatest satisfaction here, and from every point from which I have heard. You will find it will work for the best. Those who are now disappointed, if any, will be compensated by a ten fold attendance, and the fullest satisfaction.
Of course I do not know when the reunion will be held, but the concensus of opinion seems to be that next spring will be the best, nothing, however, is known about that, everything said is idle speculation. We now have four hundred and twelve Camps registered. We will send you all names of Camps, information, etc. THE VETERAN is grand.
Truly your friend, "GEO. MOORMAN."
HON. A. S. COLYAR, of Nashville, writes this splendid expression to the Sunny South: "United, as the North and South now are, in the interest of fraternal peace, I avoid, as far as possible, all discussion of the merits of the questions which brought on that struggle. But to keep alive the memories of men who died for a cause they believed was right, is an impulse which can never die with an enlightened and patriotic people."
THERE is in this issue of the VETERAN a little more testimony from the other side than was designed, however, the letter of General Boynton upon ''magnificent Confederate fighting" is for our side. The percentage reported in his article runs all along at 25 and upward, that of the Twenty second Alabama Regiment was 52, Eighteenth Alabama was 56, and the Tenth Tennessee was 68 per cent.
General Hillyer, whose interesting letter to his wife is published in this VETERAN, was a graduate of Yale College, and one of the best lawyers in the country. He died in 1872. His letter is so vivid, so patriotic, and so kind in spirit, that its use will give pleasure as well as useful historic information.
THE merit of a Confederate veteran to honor is more than young people generally realize. Let those who do not know ask any Confederate soldier who did active service through the war, if he would go through it again for all the money in the Bank of England, or all the wealth in the United States. Then remember that he did it for nothing. The longer the time since that awful period the clearer does it appear, that those who sacrificed so much deserve all honor. Our women, too, deserve all that can be conceived in their behalf. Another thing in this connection: the disparity between the aggregate numbers that has been emphasized by our people, is misleading. Ours was a great army. That we managed to secure such an equipment and maintain hundreds of thousands the four years is marvellous, when we revert to the conditions of the South from the beginning of the conflict. The Confederates standing abreast allowing three feet to the soldier would have made a solid frontage of three hundred and sixty nine miles. True, they would have been overlapped by such a column on the other side more than one thousand miles. But there was not this disparity at first. If the war had been fought through without importing men and supplies, it is quite sure the South could not have been overpowered.
THE GALLANTRY OF SOUTHERN MEN.
If the men of the South have a distinctive merit above every other it is in their gallantry toward women. There are no exceptions to this rule. The man with rusty boots, unbleached shirt, and in "flop" hat is as prompt in being polite to ladies as the most elegant of gentlemen. He may even be under the influence of liquor, bad as that is, and with frolicking chums, but he won't neglect due consideration for women. If in a crowded car, for instance, he will not only rise to give up his seat, but will call attention of other men, who may happen for the moment not to observe that ladies are standing, and he is thanked in return all around. This kind of gallantry is not debatable, no matter whether the woman be in silks or cotton. It is not a question of "sentiment" either, but of instinct.
An excuse is often made by men who occupy seats in the various public conveyances of the metropolis that ladies should not be out at the time for business men to use them, and the ladies of leisure, who have nothing to do but spend what they choose, seem honestly inclined to justify the
ungallantly on this account. Poor working women are wholly ignored. Thousands of them are compelled to go early to shops and to factories where they must stand much of the day, and remain until late. Their comfort is not to be considered. Shame on such conduct
AT Comanche, Texas, the Confederates had a good time at their reunion. Here is a paragraph from the Chief, published there, about it:
Capt. John Roach, of Proctor, the rugged and intrepid representative of the boys in blue, was next introduced and responded in behalf of the ex Federal soldiers present to Mayor Lindsley's address of welcome. It was a generous, stirring and eloquent speech, and altogether a happy effort. By this time everybody was beginning to feel good, and when the band played Dixie the old rebel yell re echoed far out over the grounds. When the music ceased Captain Roach jumped to his
feet and said he was one of the boys in the war who captured that tune, and he proposed three cheers for Dixie.
A. J. Reynolds, Welaka, Fla.: "My brother, R. D. Reynolds, at Henderson, Ky., writes me: 'Why not take the CONFEDERATE VETERAN, a pure Southern production.' I served through the war eighteen months with 4th Tennessee infantry, was discharged, and in November, 1862, enlisted with Morgan's cavalry, was at Christiansburg, Va., when Lee surrendered, went with the command to North Carolina, where Johnson surrendered, and then with the Confederate States Government to Washington, Ga., where we were paroled in 1865. Will get up a subscription list soon."
BURNSIDE'S CONTROVERSY WITH A PRISONER.
Col. Abram Fulkerson, of Bristol, Term., has written a strong paper upon the operations of Grant along the James River and about Petersburg. He reports his capture and a conversation with General Burnside, before whom he was carried. He states:
The General had dismounted and was seated on a camp stool, and was surrounded by negro guards.
The prisoners were halted at the line of guards, and the officer in charge announced to the General that they had captured the colonel of a regiment, many officers and men, three flags, and several pieces of artillery. Rising from his seat General Burnside approached us, and, addressing me, inquired what regiment I commanded, and being informed that it was a Tennessee regiment, he asked from what part of the State. ' From East Tennessee," I replied. With an expression of astonishment, General Burnside said, " It is very strange that you should be fighting us when three fourths of the people of East Tennessee are on our side." Feeling the rebuke unjust and unbecoming an officer of his rank and position, I replied, with as much spirit as I dare manifest, " Well, General, we have the satisfaction of knowing, that if three fourths of our people are on your side, that the respectable people are on our side." At this the General flew into a rage of passion and railed at me, " You are a liar, you are a liar, sir, and you know it." I replied, "General, I am a prisoner and you have the power to abuse me as you please, but as to respectability that is a matter of opinion. We regard no man respectable who deserts his country and takes up arms against his own people." To this General Burnside replied, " I've been in East Tennessee, I was at Knoxville, I know those people, and when you say that such men as Andrew Johnson, Brownlow, Baxter, Temple, Netherland and others are not respectable, you lie, sir, and you will have to answer for it." At this point I expected he would order me shot by his negro guards, but he continued. "Not to any human power, but to a higher power." With a feeling of relief I answered, "O, General, I am ready to take that responsibility."
Take him on, take him on,
the General shouted to our guards, and thence we were marched some two or three miles toward City Point, to the headquarters of General Patrick, the Provost Marshal General of Grant's army, where we were guarded during the day in a field, without shelter and under a burning sun. In other respects we were treated with the consideration due prisoners of war, by General Patrick, whom we found to be a gentleman.
Besides the duty of receiving prisoners and. forwarding them to prison, it seemed to be General Patrick's duty to receive the stragglers of General Grant's army and send them to their respective commands, and I feel safe in making the statement, that during the day we were at his quarters, there were more stragglers brought in by the cavalry, than the total number of Confederates opposing the advance of Grant's army upon Petersburg, during the 16th and 17th of June, before the arrival of Lee's army.
We were next taken to City Point, James River, and from there to Fort Delaware by steamer. Fort Delaware was one of the regular Federal prisons, situated upon an island in the Delaware River, opposite Delaware City, forty miles below Philadelphia. At one time there was as many as two thousand five hundred officers, and eight thousand private soldiers confined in that prison.
The story is a long one and intensely interesting. Colonel Fulkerson tells of their being taken to Fort Delaware, and how, after a time, six hundred officers were selected and taken to Charleston and placed under the fire of the Confederate cannon as a retaliatory measure. He gives an account of how the steamer ran aground en route, and that the determination was made to demand its surrender, which would have been accomplished, no doubt, but for the sudden appearance of a gun boat. The demand for surrender was made by Col. Van H. Manning, who commanded the Third Arkansas, and subsequent to the war was a member of congress from Mississippi. On retiring from public life he began the practice of law Washington City. He lived on his country place a few miles from Washington in great luxury until his death, which occurred last year.
These six hundred were exposed to cruelties on the trip that were revolting. Happily, when they were placed under fire of the Confederate guns off Charleston, our gunners fired with such accuracy that they were comparatively out of danger. The horrid treatment of these prisoners is too revolting to be described in the VETERAN. Strange the Federal soldiers largely concur with the partisan element of the North in denying the true stories of the treatment of Confederate prisoners.
The Chattanooga (Tenn.) Times, edited by a Union veteran, has this to say: " The CONFEDERATE VETERAN, Nashville, S. A. Cunningham, editor and proprietor, for August, is a peculiarly interesting number of this bright publication. The front cover was designed by Capt. L. T. Dickinson, of this city, and is a design illustrating a scene at Lee's surrender. Underneath the illustration is Lee's ''General Order No. 9," announcing to his officers and men the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia to the Federal Army under General Grant, and below this a portrait of General Lee. It is a meritorious and touching piece of art, taken as a whole, in conception and adaptation it is perfection. Dickinson also has a bright and well told story, illustrated by himself, of an army game of poker that was interrupted by a shell from a yankee battery. There is also a partial list of captured Confederate flags now stored at the War Department in Washington. The list will be completed in the September number. The editor, in his introduction to the list, says: "They were nearly all captured in battle, and the hero of the capture is given in every known instance. Every fellow who captured a Confederate flag in battle was a hero, and the VETERAN is pleased to give the credit." The spirit of the journal is eminently conservative and sensible, and we are therefore pleased to learn that it is a prosperous publication. The CONFEDERATE VETERAN deserves its success.",
HUMORS OF SOLDIER LIFE.
Rev. J. H. M'NEILLY.
A CHAPLAIN'S PREDICAMENT. An incident that occurred the next day after the battle of Franklin, may illustrate how important good clothes may be in settling a preacher's identity. Pardon the use of the first person singular, and I'll tell it as it occurred:
I was chaplain of the Forty ninth Tennessee, hut as I was the only chaplain in the brigade, I did duty for the whole brigade.
Originally I enlisted as a private, and for a long time served as chaplain by detail, so I got to feel easier in the jacket, trousers and brogans of the private soldier than in a regulation uniform, and then, as I had no money to get a uniform, and as we had no chance to get anything from home. my plain apparel was a necessity.
From long exposure to the changes of climate and scene, 'my uniform became more picturesque than elegant. As we came into Tennessee the nights were often quite cold, and as I stood around the blazing camp fires a sudden change of the wind would sometimes whip the blaze about my legs and scorch the lower extremities of my trousers. In the battle I had thrown off my jacket, and a shell exploding just over it had dropped a spark of fire in the middle of the back, which gradually spread until it burned a hole perfectly round and about four or five inches across.
Dressed "cap a pie," the following was my outfit: A hat made of brown jeans, quilted, and which when soaked took in half a gallon of water, a check cotton shirt, that would not meet about my neck, and had no button on the collar any how, my jacket, with the ventilator in the back, my trousers, fringed with scorched strings from the knee to the ankle, socks, with no feet but sound legs, shoes, in which sole and upper were only held together by strings.
My hair hung on my shoulders, and bleared eyes looked out from a long and scraggy beard that covered all my face.
In the battle our brigade lost dreadfully. The highest officer left. as I remember, was a lieutenant. We had large numbers of wounded. Our brigadier, General Quarles, was desperately wounded. Every field officer and captain was killed, wounded or captured. We had a great many of our wounded in the buildings on the farm of that noble gentleman, Col. John McGavock. After getting them placed as comfortably as I could, I started into the town to hunt up anything which might minister to their needs. The ladies of the old town were angels of mercy. They were abundant in their labors, preparing food, bandages and medicines for the soldiers. I looked in at a door and saw a dozen ladies hard at work on the very things I wanted. I never thought for a moment on my outlandish appearance, but addressed them in a manner that I thought was Chesterfieldian in its insinuating elegance.
The leader of the party and director of the work was an old lady, whose looks I shall always remember. She wore a cap with lace border, and a pair of silver bowed spectacles, the eyes of which were large and round. She was rather short and stout, and while her countenance beamed with business and benevolence, yet she had a quick, positive way, that seemed to settle things.
Bowing to the ladies, I addressed the leader:
I have a great many wounded men to look after. and I should like to get anything that would relieve them, such as food, delicacies, clothing, bandages and lint.
The old lady looked at me rather doubtfully and then said, dryly, "Yes, I expect you would."
Yes, madam,
said I, "my men are in great need, and some of them very badly hurt, I want to get the things as soon as possible."
Yes,
said she, " you look like you needed them very bad yourself."
The ladies tittered at this pointed reference to my personal appearance, and I felt very uncomfortable, but I went on: "Madam, I assure you our boys need these comforts very much."
The reply, with almost a sneer was: "No doubt of it, but how am I to know that the boys will ever get them if I give them to you.?'"
I said, with some little feeling, "You don't think I would take from a wounded man, do you?"
Some of the ladies seemed to sympathize with me. but the old lady was inexorable. " Well, I don't know, I hear that a heap of you fellows are getting nice things for the wounded, and then eating them yourselves, I like to know who I'm sending by."
Drawing myself up with quite an air, I announced: "Madam, I'm the chaplain of Quarles' Brigade."
But the old lady was not even stunned. "Yes, yes, it is easy enough to claim to be most anything. Why some of you boys would say that you are Major Generals if you could make anything by it. You can't fool me."
The situation was getting desperate, the ladies were smiling audibly, and I was about to beat a retreat, when, happening to put my hand to my breast, I felt a paper, which was my commission. It was a formidable looking document, with the great seal of the Confederate States on it, and signed "James Seddon, Secretary of War." At once I drew out the paper, saying, "Madam, I am sorry that you doubt my word, I shall not ask you for anything, but I can convince you that I am chaplain of Quarles' Brigade."
As soon as her eye fell on that seal, and she read the name and the office in the commission, her whole manner changed. She loaded me with all I could carry, and urged me to come back as often as I needed her help, and, following me to the door, she apologized to me in a confidential whisper, which could have been heard half a block away: "Now, parson, you really must excuse me, I didn't mean any offence, but I couldn't help it, for if I had been going to hunt a preacher, you are the last man I would ever have picked out."
The apology was satisfactory.
ONE of the names given to the chaplain of the Forty ninth Tennessee was more expressive than respectful. He was known throughout the brigade by every man in it. As he was always in good health, and quite strong in his limbs, he often carried some of the luggage of men who were weak or sick, and so often was loaded with a queer medley of frying pans, cartridge boxes, and sometimes a camp kettle. Now the North Carolina name for a skillet was a "spider," and the wagon carrying their cooking utensils was called a "spider wagon." A North Carolina regiment was camped near us, and this name amused us very much. One day as the chaplain came by under his load some
one shouted: "Get out of the way there, here comes the Forty ninth's spider wagon! "
A QUEER ORDER. I remember the first battle order I ever heard. It was at Fort Donelson, in the fall of 1863. There were then only about half a dozen companies there, drilling and fortifying. The senior captain was Tom Beaumont, of Clarksville, with whom I was messing.
In those days we had not given up all home habits, we wore white shirts and underclothes, had washing done, kept measurably clean, and every night went to bed in our tents, undressing and retiring "like folks." One day it was rumored that the gunboats were in the river below us, and were coming up. About mid night, while all were sleeping soundly, the long roll began to beat in the company stationed on the river bank. At once there was a stir in the camp, officers were calling the men to fall in, there was hurrying to and fro. Captain Beaumont was always when on duty in faultless dress, and now he did not neglect his toilet. Quickly he put on his uniform, buckled on his sword, and stepped out of his tent to take command of his company.
But the men had not been as thoughtful as he. They sprang up and grasped their muskets, and formed line in front of their tents, but every man of them had forgotten to put on his trousers, and they stood there in the starlight, in their night clothes, like "sheeted ghosts," trembling with cold and excitement. As the captain and I stepped out, and his eye glanced along the line, his sense of propriety got the better of his military ardor, and he shouted out his first command, "Confound your fool souls, go and put on your breeches! " In a moment the whole situation dawned on the men, and with shouts of laughter they prepared for battle by donning that needful article of apparel. But it was a false alarm, and they soon took off their breeches and went to sleep, Poor Tom Beaumont, brave and tender and true, as. knightly a soul as ever drew sword as colonel of the Fiftieth Tennessee he fell on Chickamauga's bloody field.
CHARGING A GUNBOAT WITH THE BAYONET. In the fall of 1861 I was at Fort Donelson, on the Cumberland River, where there were several companies of Confederate soldiers waiting to be organized into a regiment. At Fort Henry, on the Tennessee River, twelve or fifteen miles distant, the Tenth Tennessee was stationed. At both places we were busy fortifying, especially against gunboats, of which we had heard dreadful accounts.
The Tenth Tennessee was made up of Irishmen, as brave and witty a set as ever entered the service, with characteristic impetuosity, they were equally ready for a fight or a frolic, or to turn one into the other as occasion served. They were known as the " Bloudy Tinth." I remember a story about this regiment that went the rounds at Fort Donelson, and I tell it as it was told to me:
One day while they were busy digging and fortifying, a report came to them from a breathless picket that a gunboat was just around the bend, coming up the river, and would blow them all into "smithereens" in a jiffy. At once there was immense excitement.
There was not much order nor discipline in those days, so the whole regiment at once dropped pick and shovel and rushed to the colonel's quarters to know what to do. They had muskets and bayonets, but not a round of ammunition. The commander was Col. A. Heiman, a fine old soldier, a German, quiet, cool and deliberate. He was busy writing, and as the crowd came clamorously about his tent he took in the situation. He knew that the river was too low for a gunboat to get in cannon shot of the fort, so he merely looked"up from his papers, saying, " Oh, take 'em mit to payonet, poys, take 'em mit to payonet," and went on with his writing, while they went back to their quarters. In a couple of hours, having finished his work, and almost forgotten the incident, he strolled down to the bank of the river, and there was the "Tinth," drawn, up in line, with set faces, shoes off and trousers rolled up, and bayonets fixed, ready to charge the gunboat as soon as she appeared. And they were sadly disappointed that she didn't come, for "they'd have got her sure, bedad, if she had shown her nose."
AT Port Hudson we were encamped next to the Thirtieth Louisiana Regiment, made up of French speaking men. On the 14th of March, 1863, Farragut and his fleet attempted to pass up the river, and the bombardment was terrific. The scene at night was sublime. We were all ordered to the trenches, in anticipation of an attack by land. While we were standing in line, in the darkness, close to the quarters of the Thirtieth Louisiana, we noticed that the frogs in the numerous ponds seemed much excited, and were croaking incessantly in a kind of low, continuous chatter. One of the boys listened a moment, trying to make out what it meant. At length he announced the explanation: '' Boys, these frogs have been camped so long by the Thirtieth Louisiana that they have learned to talk French,"
FRENCH was a mystery to most of our rural Tennessee boys. They never could get used to the strange sound and the rapid utterance. As some of them were lounging by the riverside at Port Hudson, they heard some French speaking women, who were engaged in washing, talking to each other. One of our boys called to another: "Run here quick, Sam, and hear this woman talk, she can just give one flutter of her tongue and say more in a minute than you can in a week." Sam was noted for slowness of
speech.
MONEY VALVES. In these days of financial stringency and monetary discussion, this may illustrate the depreciation of currency.
In January, 1864, we were in camps at Dalton, Ga. I had just been paid off, and, a great deal of my money was in one dollar bills. The dollar bill of the Confederacy was a red backed piece of paper about six or eight inches long and about three inches wide. Of course, when a soldier is paid he wants to buy something to eat, so, as I heard of a man who was selling ginger cakes in a camp about a mile away, I went at once. I resolved to spend a whole dollar in gingerbread. My memory recalled with delight the generous square that I used to buy for five cents from the old cake woman when I was a boy. I found my man. He had constructed an oven on a hillside, and he baked bread in one cake about three feet square. I
imagined that my dollar would about buy a whole square would probably exhaust his stock. So, with an air of riches, I handed him my red back and said, " Give me the worth of that." He wasn't disconcerted, but just took my dollar and laid it on his square of cake and cut out the exact size of my dollar and handed it to me. I never realized before that money is a measure of value.
SOME EATING REMINISCENCES. When rations were scant and the boys were hungry, they talked a great deal about the good things to eat they used to have at home, and which they expected to get when they reached home after the war. They grew enthusiastic over imaginary dinners.
One Billy B. was, when at home, noted for his excellent table. He felt deeply our narrow bill of fare, and so drew largely on memory and hope to supply the deficit. He was a shouting Methodist, and expressed in lively style his emotions. He would begin to tell what he would do when he got back home. In a gentle voice he would speak of getting a good bath, and some clean clothes, then, as he went in imagination to the dining room, his eye would grow brighter and his voice louder. He would call over the bill of fare. Biscuit and butter and "shore enough" coffee were mentioned in loving tones, and ham and turkey or chicken pie were dwelt upon with a rising inflection, and so on his voice grew in volume until he reached the dessert, and puddings, pies and cakes, with abundant fruit, were shouted out in tones to be heard in the next brigade, and he wound up with, "Glory, won't that be a happy time!"
But one day I heard a voice as to eating that went to the opposite extreme. Jim 0. was a liberal feeder when he could get provender. As we were marching along the dusty roads of Mississippi, in the campaign around Vicksburg, we were very hungry, and some of the boys were particularly vivid in describing the pleasures they used to derive through the stomach and its food supply. Jim was silent and sad. At last he broke into the flow of talk with, "Oh, hush, boys, a fellow might as well have no belly as for all the good it does him here!"
When General Hood started on his campaign into Tennessee, in the fall of 1864, the sorghum was just ripening through Georgia, and we passed daily great fields of the sweet cane. We found it delicious to the taste, and so great quantities of it were chewed up, swallowing the juice, and leaving thousands of dry quids of the stalk spit out by the way. Steve E. was our commissary sergeant, and had peculiar advantages for gathering the sorghum.. Every day he furnished me with a good supply of the stalks, and I marched, and chewed, and threw aside the quids all along the way. Steve declared that "the parson had chewed a streak a hundred yards wide through the State of Georgy."
After the war was over Steve was riding along with an old comrade in Dickson County, Tennessee, when they passed a ten acre field of sorghum in fine condition. The companion said: "Wouldn't we have enjoyed that during the war?" "Yes," said Steve, "but if you'd turn the parson in on it he'd chaw it up in a night."
BOB AND MIKE. Bob H. was a fine soldier a mere boy when he enlisted. He was brave, kind, good humored and quaint. One day, after he had been away from home for three years and more, he was talking in a reminiscent way of the folks at home, and especially of one of the H.'s with whom he used to be very familiar. I asked him the question, "Bob, is he kin to you?" His answer, with a queer drawl, was, "Well, parson, I don't know, I haven't seen him in a long time.
One of Bob's closest friends and his messmate was Mike M., also full of fun and free from care. In our marches he had frequently called my attention to a very tall, slender, red headed man, over six and a half feet high, belonging to one of the regiments of our brigade. Looking along the line, this figure, wearing a little skull cap, a jacket and trousers both too short for him, and often barefooted, was certain to be seen either before or behind us. As we were tramping through North Georgia under Joe Johnston, one rainy day, Mike seemed unusually depressed. After a while he stooped down on hands and knees to take a drink from a little branch that crossed our way. Just as he was about to drink the long soldier straddled the branch right by his head. Looking up, Mike was just about to "tell him what he thought," but when his eyes reached a height where a man's head ought to be he saw no face. With wonder he ran his eye up the man's anatomy until he saw his full length, then, with a laugh, " Why, hello, old thunderpole, where did you come from?" He did look like a lightning rod.
It is said that at the beginning of the war Mike's father was opposed to his enlisting because he was too young. One evening he sent the boy out to bring a log of wood for the fire. Mike didn't return just then,. but went on to Camp Cheatham. Four years afterward as he came home he passed by the woodpile, and bringing in a log of wood threw it on the fire, saying,. " You see it took a long time to find it."
THIS story was told a friend by Celsus Price, son of the General:
It was during Price's hurried exit from his raid. into Missouri. Pleasonton's Cavalry had made a splendid charge, breaking our lines, capturing lots of prisoners, and we were going to the rear on a dead run, in silence, when a loud laugh was heard ringing above the roar of a thousand horses' feet. This sounded sacriligious like a church dog fight during prayers. Looking around, Arthur McCoy, one of our most reckless dare devils, with empty revolver and blowing horse, was shaking with jollity. ' Arthur, you fool,. what're ye laughing at? ' ' I was thinkin' if we had. the yanks like they've got us, wouldn't it bef u n?' And that laugh was better than a reinforcement. Were formed at once.
VIVID ACCOUNT OF A PEST IN CAMP. G. G. Buchanan,. now of Belcher, Texas, who was of Company A, Palmetto Sharpshooters, sends to the VETERAN special inquiry for his comrade and friend, Bob Greer. He relates some thrilling experiences they had together, and especially a time when they were in the trenches by Petersburg. He tells an interesting story of how he and Bob went down to a running creek for a bath one July morning in 1864, and how the yankee gunner cut his fuse for their great discomfort. They were between the lines of battle, and had gone to the creek through great peril, but they were in need of a change from some "jayhawkers" that "could climb a fellow's leg the straightest, stick the closest, and scratch the
hardest of any crawling thing on the earth." He says: Bob and I were having a good time O yes, we were down under the hill, as we thought, out of sight, hut mind you, blind things can travel in dark places. We had taken off our old shirts and began to splash them down in the water, thinking we would, by concussion, kill or shake off a few of those critters, and that some few of them might run across the lines to see how a good fat yankee would taste. But let me tell you, if that water business had been the only way to get rid of those things I am sure we would have to have been half soled before this time. When we got in a good way with our washing a doleful sound came at us saying, " Where is you? where is you?" And they kept coming, and getting closer and closer. Bob took up his linen and struck off in a long trot, saying, "Come on, Buck, this aint no good place." But neither of us were hurt, and here I am, August 25, 1893.
ONE winter poker playing was fashionable in the Missouri Division. General Parsons called up Major , who had been promoted for bravery, and charged him with playing cards with his men, to the utter subversion of good order and military discipline. ''Yes, General, it's true. But, you see, they were big men at home, and it's an honor for me to play with them. There's was a judge on the bench, was county clerk, and owns the biggest farm in the county, while I'm only a common blacksmith. And they play a good game, too! " And there was a moral in this reply which some of the martinets could never see.
APPLE DUMPLINGS By Mrs. Sue F. Mooney. I was a, prisoner at Camp Douglas, and slowly dying of starvation. A young man from my neighborhood was a fellow prisoner, and quite a number from our county were enduring the same hardness as good soldiers. My friend's father was a man of wealth, and he determined to send succor to his son if it could be done. This determination was made known to my father. After some delay for correspondence and compliance with red tape regulations, the checks came, one for $35 and one for $25. We felt rich! What now? said my friend. A dinner, was the reply, and all the boys from our county invited. Good, just the thing! To the sutler we went and bought a generous supply of meat, bread, butter, sugar, coffee, flour, lard, and a half bushel of green apples. All these things we carried to my kitchen and instructed the cook to cook them all, and to make all the apples into dumplings, You should have seen the dumplings two large sauce pans full! Not one was left. To this day I have never had such a feast nor seen nor tasted such dumplings. Of course I cannot give the sauce which made the reminiscence so enjoyable from the narrator, but I enjoyed the dumplings, and hope they may attract the eye of some survivor of the feast. Such is the story of Rev. T. J. McGill.
VETERANS OF UPPER EAST TENNESSEE.
The Confederate Veteran Association of Upper East Tennessee held its fifth annual reunion at Holston, September 5th. The Rogersville Review gives an interesting report of the occasion :
The Association embraces the First and Second congressional districts, and was chartered four years ago. It has met every year since, and each meeting seems to grow in interest. This was a genuine success, a reunion in the fullest sense. There was a large crowd from all over the country present. The number of veterans was about equal to all former meetings, notwithstanding the fact that time begins to tell on those who wore the gray. There were no boys in the line, but the silver threads were visible, and the bending form and slow step of many were very preceptible. They were not on the pension roll and were not expecting to be. They all earn honest livings by hard work. Very few old Confederates ever get on the pauper list.
The Association was called to order by Capt. J. C. Hodges, First Vice President. Prayer was offered by Rev. Oscar Haywood, of Morristown, after which Col. George P. Yoe was made permanent chairman. He thanked the audience for the honor conferred on him, and introduced Gen. Wat. M. Cocke, who held the close attention of the audience for nearly an hour in a most appropriate and eloquent address. He is too young to have been in the war, but he is a true Southerner. At the conclusion of Gen. Cocke's speech the chairman introduced Hon. Wm. M. Ledgerwood, who was a gallant Federal soldier, but who has been a warm friend to the Confederate veterans. His speech was short but pointed, it was characteristic of the man. Colonel Ledgerwood is a man that should be appreciated by every true Confederate veteran. It was his speech that had most to do toward getting the bill passed in the Legislature to pension indigent Confederates.
An intermission of one hour was taken for lunch, in which time the inner man was benefited, and all became better acquainted with each other.
The committee appointed to select the time and place of the next meeting, and also a Board of Directors of the ensuing year, reported the selection of Rogersville as the place and the first Thursday in September as the time.
The Board of Directors elected selected the following officers: President, F. A. Shotwell, Rogersville, First Vice President, Geo. P. Yoe, Morristown, Chaplain, Geo. D. French, Morristown, Secretary and Treasurer, J. McClister, Morristown.
Capt. J. C. Braine, of Knoxville, an old naval officer, was introduced to the Association and made a few entertaining remarks regarding the Confederate navy. Following him came Gen, F. A. Moses, also of Knoxville, who is a member of the State Board of Pension Examiners. General Moses made a short talk regarding pensions, in which he instructed disabled veterans how to make applications for the same. Captain Hodges read a resolution of respect regarding the death of the Association's ex President, Col. Oliver C. King, which was adopted and ordered upon record.
CHORUSES FROM WAR SONGS.
THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME.
But if ever I get thro' this war, and Lincoln's boys don't
bind me,
I'll make my way right back again to the girl I left behind me.
MORGAN'S WAR SONG.
Cheer, boys, cheer! we'll march away to battle
Cheer, boys, cheer! for our sweethearts and our wives,
Cheer, boys, cheer! we'll nobly do our duty,
And give to the South our hearts, our arms, our lives.
THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG.
Hurrah, hurrah ! for Southern rights hurrah
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.
311 Confederate Veteran October 1893.
HOOD'S CAMPAIGN THROUGH NORTH GEORGIA.
Col. R. H. Shotwell, of St. Louis, Mo., gives some vivid reminiscences of the campaign through North Georgia under General Hood. He recites the depression of the army, occasioned by the removal of Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, and relates the incidents from Hood's appointment to the command of the army, prior to its advance north. He says:
We crossed the Chattahoochee River about twelve miles southwest of Atlanta, and what a soldier could not pack was left behind, as no wagon transportation was furnished, except for ordnance, commissary or medical supplies. A. rapid march of three days brought us in the vicinity of Allatoona, and early at night of that day General French's Division, composed of Sayer's Brigade of Mississippians and Cockrell's Brigade of Missourians, was attached and ordered to advance and capture a garrison that was known to be fortified at that place. It was supposed to consist of about five hundred to six hundred men. The vicinity of the fortification was reached about 11 o'clock of that night, but the respective brigades did not get in position for the attack until 12 o'clock the next day (October,5th).
Allatoona is on the Chattanooga and Atlanta railroad, from which point it runs through a deep cut. The fort to be attacked was built on the top of the hill, immediately by the side of this railroad cut. The fort was a casemated block house, constructed and roofed with hewn logs. A ditch, about sixteen feet wide and six feet deep, had been cut around the block house at a distance of some forty feet from its walls, and the dirt taken therefrom had been thrown against its walls for an embankment, and also on top of it, so as to render it practically proof against light artillery or an infantry attack. Outside of this ditch for some distance a strong abatis had been constructed of heavy brush and sharp spikes driven in the ground, and trimmed and pointed outward, so as to obstruct the advance and break the force of an attack. A little further outside of this obstruction the hill made a sudden and abrupt descent, and the railroad merged from the cut near the fort immediately on an embankment of fifteen to eighteen feet high. The road ran on this embankment some three hundred yards and entered another cut through another hill.
Cockrell's Brigade was placed in position on this second hill, on the west side of the road, with its left some two hundred yards from the road and facing the fort. Sayer's Brigade was placed on the opposite side of the road, with its right some two hundred yards from it, but the fort was on Cockrell's side of the road. Sayer's Brigade had to descend the hill on which it was placed, then cross this railroad embankment, and advance over rough and broken ground, which had been densely timbered, but the timber had all been cut down and left on the ground with the brush crossed and piled, which rendered it practically impossible to pass over it in anything but the very worst of order, but more especially so under the galling fire to which we were subjected in the attack.
When the charge was ordered, Cockrell's Brigade had much the shortest distance to advance and much the smoothest ground to pass over, which enabled it to reach the point of attack several minutes before Sayer's Brigade could get up and put the division to the disadvantage of having the two brigades attack in detail, and, consequently, lost the force of a united and simultaneous attack of the two brigades. But had both brigades been brought up simultaneously, it was worse than madness to attempt to cross this heavy abatis and big ditch under the heavy fire, and could this even have been accomplished, we could not then have penetrated the fort probably in less than thirty minutes had we been armed with crow bars and pickaxes, especially so with six hundred men inside firing on us with sixteen shot Henry rifles and about a half dozen pieces of artillery. When the two brigades met with the repulse that awaited them outside the abatis and ditch, the men sought partial protection and cover
under the abrupt descent of the hill, and kept up the fight full three hours, when we were ordered to withdraw.
But now an ordeal presented itself that had* not been contemplated. In order to withdraw from our position we had to retire over the same ground over which we had advanced, and which was strewn with our dead and wounded. In withdrawing, the moment we left the position we then occupied we came in full view of the enemy and were exposed to the same terrific fire to which we were subjected while advancing, with this difference, perhaps, that we made better time coming out than going in. So great was the danger of withdrawing, that many of the men were inclined to remain and surrender, rather than take the risk of getting away. In the writer's efforts to have every man of his own command started out, he was among the very last to leave, and was consequently far in the rear of most of them, and subjected to extraordinary risk. He may not have gone in with extra rapidity, but it would have taken a 'stepper' to pass him coming out. We entered this engagement with about fifteen hundred men, and lost over three hundred in killed and wounded. We lost perhaps one hundred and twenty five men who remained and were surrendered, rather than undergo the danger of withdrawing.
The assault was an unfortunate, as well as an unwise, one, as the result proved. It was impracticable, as the fort was virtually impregnable against an infantry attack) and could not possibly have been carried in that way except at a loss infinitely greater than the benefits to be attained by its capture. Could success have attended us, it would have been a dearly bought victory in comparison to the benefits to be derived. A short artillery siege of a few days would have compelled the garrison to surrender, and with a nominal loss on our part. The slaughter of that gallant division could have been avoided, and the Confederacy no worse off by passing the Federal garrison and leaving it in our rear, as we finally did do. It is not pleasing to write up our own defeat, but the lesson taught may to some extent some day partially repay it.
The army resumed its march northward on the morning of the 8th of October. The three days' march following was made with great rapidity, the incentive for which could not be surmised, unless it was that Sherman was marching in one direction and we in another. The march of the third day (October 10th) was continued until 10 o'clock at night, and up to that hour the army had marched twenty nine miles that day, and received no rations for two days except two ears of corn daily to each soldier. The road was rough and the men weary and exhausted almost beyond endurance. The excessive long marches and ear corn rations had led the army to style itself Hood's Cavalry.'
The army had just halted, stacked arms, and was preparing to parch some corn, when a courier approached me with an order to take my command and advance three miles further, and put out pickets for the protection of the army. The order seemed a great hardship at the time, but in a few minutes we were ready to renew the march. I am candid to admit if there was a Christian in the regiment then, there was nothing in his language to indicate it.
We had marched about two miles further in the dark, and on the railroad track, when we were greeted with a volley of shots, which whistled over our heads. I at once filed the regiment to the right under cover of a small hill, put out pickets, and sent a courier back to brigade headquarters with advice to the effect that we had encountered what was supposed to be a Federal garrison of some kind. In less than two hours Colonel Witherspoon appeared on the spot with the Thirty sixth Mississippi Regiment, with instructions to me to attack and capture the garrison. Colonel Witherspoon was my senior, but courteously yielded the command and management of the affair to me. His command was placed in position on the left of the road, while mine remained on the right. The men being half starved and suffering from loss of sleep and fatigue from the longest day's march of my knowledge during the war, and yet sore from our recent severe punishment at Allatoona, and. not knowing the strength of the force or fortification to be attacked, the order seemed a strange and perilous one. But we had no discretion, we must obey it. It was then I o'clock at night and, thanks to the 'God of War,' the moon was just rising. Fears of the result and want of some kind of inspiration was clearly depicted on every countenance, and a moment before the charge was ordered I suggested to the command the probability of our coming in possession of a tine lot of Federal stores, both to eat and drink, in the event of our success. The suggestion proved a trump card. The advance was ordered, and, if the success of the Confederacy had been staked on the result, it could not have produced more zeal than the prospects of those Federal stores. We were soon in full view of the garrison's fortification, which was situated on the top of a small hill beyond us, and immediately by the side of a railroad cut, and on my side of the road. We advanced under their fire to within sixty yards of their works, at which time we had reached the foot of the hill on which the fort was situated. Not one of the enemy was to be seen nothing but the fort and the fire from their guns through their port holes was visible, and it was readily seen that we could not carry the works by brute force, but must resort to some kind of strategy. The ground at this point afforded us some protection by having the men lay down, which was done, with the exception of two companies, which were ordered to distribute pickets around the fort so as to prevent their escape.
As most of our men were soon practically excluded from their sight by such protection as the earth and logs and trees afforded, the firing soon nearly ceased, and an inquiry was made from the fort as to what command had attacked them, when I informed them it was the advance of Hood's Army, and thereupon demanded their surrender, with the assurance that I had them surrounded, and that if they did not comply we would soon open on them with a couple of Parrot guns, which had been ordered up. They asked for thirty minutes to consider the matter, which was granted them.
The writer had received a painful, but not serious, wound in the engagement, and for the moment left the regiment in charge of a captain, and retired a short distance to the rear to have his wound dressed during. the armistice. In less than ten minutes word reached me that the garrison had surrendered and was in charge of two companies of the regiment. I returned to the spot as quick as practicable and found the command had fallen on to the supplies promised them, which,. in their hungry and desperate condition, proved fully up to their hearts' desire sugar, coffee, bread, bacon, crackers, canned meats and fruits of every description, condensed milk, etc., besides two barrels of what then seemed the best whisky a soldier ever tasted. Campfires had also been started, and the men were going through these good things with a gusto that knew no equal, when I stepped over to see the prisoners, and to my amazement found there were seventy four of them. mostly dressed in Confederate attire, and about the same number of Confederates, dressed in Federal uniforms, guarding them. They had almost completely swapped clothes with them. For the moment I could hardly tell which was in the ascendency, my indignation at this conduct or the ridiculousness of the thing. But the captain having charge of them, having evidently had one or two doses of the whisky, assured me that the swapping had been perfectly mutual and agreeable, remarking, ' The prisoners were the cleverest set of fellows he ever saw.'
The eating and drinking lasted until daylight, and my word would likely be discredited were I to attempt to state how much those Confederates ate and drank. Suffice it to say, in the meantime the two barrels of whisky were pretty well absorbed, and I can say, without fear of successful contradiction, that they were the most promiscuously and universally drunk set of men in my opinion that ever occupied the same amount of territory, the writer, of course, excepted,
This engagement resulted in the loss of eleven Confederates, killed and wounded, and, while we could not see a man of the enemy during the engagement, and could only fire at the blaze from their guns through their small port holes, we killed and wounded nine of their number, including their captain killed.
As we had no way of disposing of these prisoners, they were kept with the command on our march for several days, and our boys became quite well acquainted with them. They were as jolly a set as I ever saw, and seemed to enjoy everything in the way of a joke, and swapping hats had become a source of much amusement. Every Confederate who came near them, if a better hat was found on a prisoner than he had, a swap was at once made, the prisoner as often as otherwise making the proposition.. The sentiment that prevailed was, that as the Federals were to go South and the Confederates were going North, the latter should have the best hat, consequently, any Confederate passing who had a worse hat than was to be found among the prisoners, an exchange was made, and without regard to the fit, especially as far as the prisoner was concerned, and it was often the case that a 6 3/4 hat was seen on a 7 1/4 head, or a 7 1/4 hat on a 6 3/4 head. While this innocent amusement was being perpetrated on those prisoners, Sherman was repaying us by burning villages and houses of non combatants in his celebrated march through Georgia."
THE CIVIL WAR HISTORY, by Mrs. Ann E.Snyder. Southern Methodist Publishing House, Nashville. Price, $1.00. No Southern authress has worked more diligently for the cause of true history than Mrs. Snyder. A revised edition of the book is just out, with many important improvement, which make it all the more acceptable to the public. In commenting on the former edition, Gen. E. Kirby Smith, under date of February 12, 1893, said: "I have convened a meeting of the Historical Committee in New Orleans, March 2, 1893, and having read carefully your little work, carry a favorable impression with me of its merits and truthfulness. You certainly deserve the thanks of our people for the effort you have made in vindication of our cause and its honest presentation before the country " Col. Alonzo Hill, President of a female college at Tuskaloosa, Ala., and Secretary of the U. C. V. Historical Committee, writes Mrs. Snyder of his purpose to commend it as a supplementary reader to the History of the United States. Assuch it is commended by Dr. Price, President of the Nashville College for Young Ladies, and Capt. W. R. Garrett, Principal of Garrett's Military Academy. They will use it also.
DICKISON AND HIS MEN. Col. Charles E. Merrill, in Jacksonville Standard: * * * Surely no household in Florida should be without a copy of this important contribution to that portion of our war history in which Florida bore such a conspicuous part. Though every line is scrupulously true to truth, there are episodes recorded which are as thrilling as medieval romance. Gen. Dickison, the " wizard of the saddle " along the South Atlantic coast, and the deeds of valor recorded of this gallant hero and his brave Floridians, contribute an imperishable legacy to the people of the South. He crossed and recrossed the St. Johns in the face of the enemy, and executed other dashing movements which mark him as one of the most daring and brilliant cavalrymen known to the history of the country." The VETERAN commends this book and the high merit of its author.
THE OTHER SIDE, an historic poem, by Mrs. Virginia Frazier Boyle. Gen. E. Kirby Smith, to whom this great poem was submitted in manuscript, wrote, at Sewanee, Feb. 14, 1893: "I have read this admirable poem with great care and interest. It reflects high credit upon her, and I am sure will endear her to all lovers of our cause, and of the great man who was our chief. The subject matter appeals strongly to my sympathies, and comes very near to my heart, as it should to every true Confederate, and especially to one who loved Mr. Davis, as I have ever done."
This book will be sent postpaid by the VETERAN for $1. Any business letters in regard to it should be sent Col. C. W. Frazier, Memphis, Tenn.
SOME REBEL RELICS Advertised in the July number, is a handsomely bound and printed 12 mo. book of the war. of 310 pages, and sold by Barbee & Smith, Nashville, Tenn., for only $1.00. It is commemorative of the spirit and manner of life of the typical Confederate soldier of the rank and tile in all the aspects of warfare, from his enlistment to his surrender., just the book that Henry Grady called for some time before his death through the Atlanta Constitution. It is hailed with delight by the old soldiers and others interested in the literature of war, and has had no objection made to it thus far except by a " home made ,yankee," who found himself described in it. Rev. E. E. Hoss, D. D., says of it : " How the common Confederate soldier enlisted, in what style he was armed, how he dressed, ate, marched, talked, fought an
pecial terms to U. C. V, Camps in behalf of the Monument Fund. Address S. D. McCORMICK, Henderson, Kentucky.
The mistake has occurred heretofore in the publication in the VETERAN of the Southern Cross. It is $1 free of postage, instead of fifty cents with postage added. It will be supplied from this office.
Lippincott's Magazine has, during the past year, been running a series of Notable Stories, the plan of which is explained in the following, which appears as a foot note at the bottom of each story :
With the March number began the issue of this series of short stories, one of which is to appear each month during the current year. On the completion of the series the stories will be reprinted in a small volume, and the royalty on the sale of this book will belong to the author of that one of. the ten tales. which receives the popular verdict.
To determine this choice, our readers are invited to signify each month, by postal card addressed to the editor of Lippincott's Magazine, their opinions as to the merits of the short story in the last issue."
The story for November in this series is by Miss Alice MacGowan, of Tennessee, who has made a deserved success with her Texas, mountaineer, and negro dialect work in the past three years. Miss MacGowan is a Southern girl who writes of the South, and we think all true Southerners will be interested in seeing that enough favorable
postal are sent in to insure the royalty to her. Her story, "The Rustlers," is a stirring relation of exciting happenings in a West Texas ranching community. It is told in her usual pure and limpid English, is full of local color and Texas dash, glowing with tenderness and replete with fine feeling. Our Texas readers will of course feel a special interest in it. They will, more perhaps than others, appreciate its merit of fidelity to life, and we think that. most of them will be moved, after reading it, to take the trouble to write to the editor of Lippincott, telling him whether or not Texans appreciate such work. All who read it, however, will be well repaid, and will, we hope, take pride enough in their section, and in seeing a Southern writer succeed, to send in a postal card in its favor.
World's Fair visitors can secure very choice accommodations in most desirable location, near Lake and Fair Grounds. Terms, $1 per day, including breakfast. Commended by the editor of the VETERAN. MRS, I. B. TUCKER, 3016 Groveland Ave., Chicago.
Montgomery Bell Academy,
An excellent school for boys and young men. In these days of thought and action, one must be prepared not only to think when he rises to his feet, but to give his thoughts forcible expression, A careful training in elocution prepares a young man for such demands. At the Montgomery Bell Academy special attention is given to the study of elocution. The system of breathing, practiced daily, strengthens the lungs and voice. The movement of arms, feet, head and body give an ease and grace which can be obtained in no other way. This acquired, a careful study is given to selections, so as to present them in the most forcible manner. This school has made an enviable reputation in this department Any information will be cheerfully given by addressing S. M. D CLARK, Principal, Nashville, Tenn.
November 1893
L. T. DICKINSON, Adjutant of the N. B. Forrest Camp, Chattanooga, in sending out notice of November meeting, illustrates with a silver dollar, from behind which are head, arms, and feet, swinging from a rope by one foot. This voice is phonographed on the margin, " Now you got me hung up here, what you goin' to do 'bout it?" The answer comes from a fellow standing in a strut below a gold dollar being his head "Damfino."
H. T. GAY, Esq., of Graham, Texas, demurs to Gen. Boynton's statement that Cheatham's Division " was driven back more than a mile." Although the statement may be erroneous, the spirit of the Federal officer is so complimentary that any protest against inaccuracy deserves to be fraternal. This veteran was not in the battle. When his command was ordered from Enterprise, Miss., he and young Greer were both so ill that our Captain urged us to go to some private house for treatment, but the thought of getting back to Tennessee "o electrified us that both started on the journey. Greer improved so that he was ready for duty, and was of the first killed in the great battle, while the writer grew so much worse that he was insensible when carried into the Ladies' Hospital at Montgomery. Cheatham's command can withstand any criticism from any source.
T. L. PATTERSON, Esq., of Cumberland, Maryland, whose good wife sent many subscribers soon after the VETERAN was started, asks for a list that she may procure renewals. The thought is commendatory. These venerable people have grown grandchildren, and although almost under the shadow of Pennsylvania Mountains, they manifest such zeal for the cause of the South as makes Confederate veterans prouder of their record than they would be of all things that could be bought with money.
(Mr. Patterson was Government Engineer, and located at Harper's Ferry when John Brown " started the war." The people in that quiet village were as much astounded by the event as were those of any section of the country. Mr. Patterson's family were witnesses. They well remember the killing of a faithful darkey who would not join the Brown
party.) Let hundreds act on Mr. Patterson's suggestion. Mail lists will be sent to all who will kindly look after renewals at fifty cents.
Of the front page engravings are two young ladies and a little daughter of J. O. Casler, author of "Four Years in the Stonewall Brigade," and a zealous worker for the VETERAN and in our cause generally. The engraving of Mrs. Sarah B. Brewer is reproduced because of the very inferior presentation in the July number. Readers and patrons of the VETERAN who have that issue may reread with interest her letter and the account of her work. Mrs. Brewer, it will he remembered, has contributed more to our general cause than any other individual. It is intended that all the young ladies' pictures will be republished in the VETERAN at reunion time, with a sketch of each.
Dr. J. N. DOYLE, Mayor of Granbury, Texas, came recently to Columbia, Tenn., and removed the remains of Gen. Granbury. The memorial exercises and burial will take place at Granbury, November 30th, the anniversary of the battle of Franklin, in which Gen. Granbury was killed. The funeral train will start from Fort Worth and contain large delegations from Waco, Dallas, Sherman, and other Texas points. The small marble headstone erected at Ashwood, his burial place for so many years, has been shipped to Texas, and will be used in connection with the shaft which patriotic citizens of Granbury will erect. Much credit is due the Columbia, Tenn., Democrat for its enterprise in bringing this proper thing about.
THE KIRBY SMITH FUND IN LOUISIANA.
Gen. W. H. Jackson has received from Gen. George Moorman letters containing the following subscriptions to the Kirby Smith fund. Gen. Moorman writes:
I inclose you check for $111, which, with the $253.75 previously sent makes a total of $364.75, partial collection made by these headquarters for the benefit of the family of Gen. E. Kirby Smith. I send you the full amount contributed, having paid the exchange myself.
Army of Northern Virginia, Camp No. 1, New Orleans .... $51
Maj. Victor Maurin, Camp No. 38, Donaldsonville, La.,
through Army of Northern Virginia, Camp No. 1..... 25
Benj. T. Duval, Camp No. 145, Fort Smith, Ark................. 25
Franklin K. Beck, Camp No. 224, Camden, Ala.................. 10
On September 30th he remitted the following, all of which amounts have been handed to and remitted by Col. Claiborne to Mrs. Kirby Smith:
Winnie Davis Camp, No. 108, Waxahachie, Texas.. .... $10
Col. B. Timmons Camp, No. 61, LaGrange, Texas........ 10
Mildred Lee Camp, No. 90, Sherman, Texas................ 8
John B. Hood Camp, No. 233, Augusta .... ................. 5
George E. Pickett Camp, No. 204, Richmond, Va...... .. 5
Lul. Ross Camp, No. 129, Denton, Texas,.... .............. 3
Army of Tennessee, Camp No. 2...... 28
Total.................................................... .............. $180
This, with the former remittance of $253.75, gives, in the aggregate, the sum of $433.75 through Gen. Moorman.
POET FOR NEXT REUNION UNITED CONFEDERATE VETERANS.
HENRY CLAY FAIRMAN, under whose editorial management the Sunny South has become still more widely known and more popular than ever, is a native of Mississippi, as was also his father, who became bankrupted by the war. The son was left to educate and advance himself unaided. Beginning life as a lawyer, he followed that calling (always distasteful to him) for seven or eight years, when he was called by State Auditor Gwin to direct the land department of his office, which he did with distinguished success for four years. Then he resumed the law, and in 1885 owned and edited the Lantern, a Democratic campaign sheet at Jackson, in the columns of which within the short space of eight or ten weeks he established his reputation as a writer of brilliancy and ability. Quitting Mississippi in 1886, he sojourned unprofitably in North Alabama for several years, removing thence to Atlanta, Ga., in 1891, a total stranger. He is highly distinguished by his selection to write the poem for the reunion.
GEN. H. V. BOYNTON, whose high tribute to Confederate valor at Chickamauga is in October VETERAN, has been selected as the historian of the Chickamauga National Park Commission. General Boynton is not only a forcible and very fluent writer, of national fame, but he knows well of what he wrote about that battle. He was the commanding officer of the Thirty fifth Ohio Regiment during those two days of tremendous fighting, and won for himself a superb reputation
among his comrades. His regiment and brigade were in the thickest of the fight, attested by a loss of fifty per cent. of their numbers. As a part of Brannon's Division, under Gen. Geo. H. Thomas, they bore an honorable part in the fierce struggle on the crest of Horse Shoe Ridge during the afternoon of September 20, and they were among the last Federal troops to leave the battle field. His record at Chickamauga, for which the VETERAN is indebted to Gen, G. P. Thruston, staff officer to Gen. Geo. H. Thomas, was not learned until the other editorial note was put to press.
THE Eagle Pass Guide, published on the southwestern border of Texas, a high toned journal of unusual merit in typography and neatness of print, demurs to the VETERAN'S position against the organization of United American Veterans. The Guide misconstrues the intended meaning of the VETERAN in reference to border sections. It is indeed unfortunate that veterans in the border States have been so undeservedly intimidated. They frequently have their meetings and processions with the stars and stripes displayed in their ranks, but not a single tattered remnant of the ensign under which they rushed in the face of destruction year after year. The old stars and bars of the Confederacy are
absolutely sacred to them, and why may not battle scarred men who fought under it carry the innocent emblem with them at their reunions ?
REUNION AT AUGUSTA.
The Confederate Veteran Survivors' Association, of Augusta, Ga., invite Confederate veterans throughout the Union to meet in Augusta November 23d and 24th. The invitation says,
We will make you welcome." The invitation is signed by Patrick Walsh, President Augusta Exposition, W. J. Northern, Governor of Georgia, J. H. Alexander, Mayor of Augusta, F. E. Eve, Acting President Confederate Survivors' Association , I. C. Levy, Chairman, and other members of the Military Committee of Exposition." Mr. Cunningham hopes to meet many patrons of the VETERAN there.
JUSTICE TO THE SOUTH TRUE HISTORY.
Confederate Veteran November
1893
Arthur Marshall, of Springfield, Mo., responds to a subscriber who wants facts as to the causes of the war. He uses quotations from Northern speakers in his introduction that are admitted. He repudiates the language of partisans at the North, one of whom said: " The war has civilized the South where all was crimes and fetters," and continues:
The South planned first the cooperation and consolidation of the Colonies, Patrick Henry sounded the key note of Independence, Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration, a Southern Colony emblazoned first on her standard, '' Virginia for Constitutional Liberty." A Southerner led the armies of the Revolution to victory, and it was Southern intellect and patriotism that planned the Federal Constitution, and finally brought about consolidation. To the South is due that Texas is not now a hostile government, that Louisiana is not a French republic, and that the majestic Mississippi is all in our own land. The old South led in the council chamber, in the field, and to battle. How can the Northern people bring charges so infamous against such a record of loyalty and patriotism ?
The South was not responsible for slavery nor eager for its perpetuation. The first nation on the civilized globe to protest against it as monstrous was a Southern Colony. Virginia twenty three times protested to the Crown in public acts of her Assembly, and in 1778 passed a law absolutely forbidding the further importation of slaves.
On the other hand, slavery received its first legislative sanction by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
The prohibition of the slave trade was finally brought about through the influence of President Jefferson and the active efforts of the Virginians.
The North led with plans of gradual emancipation, because slavery was not profitable there, but in the South as well, societies for abolition and colonization were organized. Naturally the South moved slowly, for to her people the problem was a vital one, the number of slaves in Virginia alone being seven times as great as in the entire North. * * *
Civil war was the result. The North had the backing of the resources and sentiment of the world, besides overwhelming odds in battle, and for four years the South baffled an army that could have withstood the universe.
The war left the South exhausted to the last degree. The ragged, half starved Confederate soldier, crushed with defeat, returned to his once happy and beautiful home to find his house in ruins, his farm devastated, his slaves free, his stock killed, his barns empty, his trade destroyed, and his money worthless.
The North took advantage of this helpless condition, and under the euphemism of reconstruction made an attempt to destroy the South. She was dismembered, disfranchised, denationalized, and turned into military provinces. Besides the war having rendered to the torch and sword three billion dollars' worth of property, she has been robbed from her poverty of a billion dollars in twenty years to pension Northern soldiers. Thomas Nelson Page is reported to have made this strong statement: "It was intended that the South should be no more." But God called her forth with the old spirit, she resumed her youth like the eagle, fixed her gaze upon the sun, and once more spreading her pinions, lifted herself for another flight.
Steps must be taken to preserve from oblivion, or worse, from misrepresentation, a civilization which produced, as its natural fruit, Washington and Jefferson, Lee and Jackson. Their stories must be told and their deeds must be sung through the ages not what its enemies thought it to be, but what in truth it was.
We are not willing to be handed down to the coming generation as a race of slave drivers and traitors. So let the North lay aside her prejudice and hatred, and seek the truth instead. She should reveal that the Cavalier, as well as the Puritan, was on the continent from the earliest days, and has been the most conspicuous element in its progress and its freedom. She should admit that the South has a heart of feeling and honor, and is worthy of justice.
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