This page is part of The Georgia GenWeb Project a AHGP Project and is hosted by USGENNET
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This page is part of The Georgia GenWeb Project a AHGP Project and is hosted by USGENNET |
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Confederate Veteran 1893 pg 15
Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 3, Nashville, Tenn., March, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ALABAMIANS IN THE CRATER BATTLE [George Clark, Waco, Texas.] I have read with much interest and pleasure the article in your January number by Col. Geo. T. Rogers, entitled "The Crater Battle, 30th July, 1864," and as I was a participant in said battle, I deem it due to history that some inaccuracies which have crept unintentionally into Col. Rogers' account should be corrected. I do this with the feeling of an old comrade for the Colonel, whom I knew and highly respected in those historic days. Doubtless the long time which has intervened since the occurrences he relates, added to the fact that a regimental line officer could not know particulars relating to the movements of other commands than his own, must account for the injustice he does "Wilcox's old Brigade," from Alabama, then commanded by the brave young Saunders. I was a Captain in the Eleventh Alabama Regiment, and at the date of this battle was serving temporarily on the staff of Brig. Gen. Saunders, as assistant adjutant general. I was also flag of truce officer after the battle, and with Col. Jas. F. Doran, Twenty-fourth New York Cavalry (dismounted), who was the Federal truce officer, had charge of the burial of the dead on the morning of August 1st, 1864. My opportunities for knowing the movements of the brigade were therefore excellent, and the nature of the work before us on that day so strongly impressed itself upon me that I retain until this day a most vivid recollection of all incidents which came under my observation. The regular position of the brigade at that time was a short distance west of the right angle in our defensive works, near the plank road. On the morning of the explosion, about three o'clock, the Brigadier-General was aroused by an order from Division Headquarters to get his men up and man the works. This was immediately done. As our regular battalion of sharpshooters (under command of Major James M. Crow, of Florence, Ala.) had been relieved from skirmish duty on the night before, Gen. Saunders became anxious as to his skirmish line, and directed me to see that Maj. Crow went to the front with his battalion relieving our pickets. This was done. The General and staff were sitting on the gallery of a little house which constituted our headquarters when the explosion occurred. Immediately a tremendous bombardment opened from the enemy along the whole front. We galloped to the works, and took position in the rear of the center of the brigade, near a company of Washington Artillery. The bombardment was kept up an hour or two, perhaps longer, when Gen. Lee came to where we were and held a short talk with our brigade commander. About an hour, or perhaps two hours, after this, and after the bombardment had slackened, we were ordered to quietly leave the works, retire to a ravine in the rear, and form. This was done, and nothing but the artillery was left in the line we abandoned. From Col. Rogers' description of the route pursued by his brigade to the scene of the explosion, we must have traveled the same route. On our way there, the general and staff having abandoned their horses, we met Col. Weisiger, of the Twelfth Virginia, wounded in the side, and supported by a soldier. The Colonel who was then in command of Mahone's Brigade, told us of the charge of the Virginians, which had already occurred. When we reached the scene, we were met by Gen. Mahone, accompanied by Gen. Bushrod Johnson, and Gen. Mahone gave directions as to how he wished the brigade formed. It was then about eleven a. m. The rife pits to the left of the crater (enemy's right) were then held by the Virginia brigade, their right resting at the crater. I was sent by Gen. Saunders to look over the ground, and went forward to the rim of the crater. I there met and talked with Lieut. Col. W. H. Stewart, and other acquaintances in the Virginia brigade, including Col. Rogers, if my memory is correct, both of whom I knew well, having served with them upon General Court Martial the preceding winter. I found that while the Virginians had done their part of the job thoroughly, and were holding their positions heroically, Wright's Georgia brigade had failed to carry the trenches on the right of the crater (enemy's left), and the crater itself was still in possession of the enemy, filled not only with Negro troops, but also with a much larger per cent of white troops, as was demonstrated after the capture. I returned and reported the situation to Gen. Saunders. At this time our brigade was resting on their arms just east of a little branch or marsh under the hill. I was instructed by Gen. Saunders to pass along the line, count the men, and inform them, as well as company commanders, that our attack would begin at two o'clock, upon the firing of two signal guns from the batteries in our rear—that every man must be ready to rise and go forward at the signal, slowly at first, and then at a double quick as soon as we rose the hill—that our object was to recapture the rifle pits on our right as well as the crater, and for this purpose the brigade would be compelled to right oblique after starting so as to cover the points of attack—no man was to fire a shot until we reached the works, and arms must be carried at a right shoulder shift. I was also instructed by Gen. Saunders to inform the men that Gen. Lee had notified him that there were no other troops at hand to recapture the works, and if this brigade did not succeed in the first attempt, they would be formed again and renew the assault, and that if it was necessary, he (Gen. Lee) would lead them. As a matter of fact, a large portion of the army was on that day east of the James river. These directions of Gen. Saunders were communicated at once to every officer and man, and by actual count made by me the brigade had in line 632 muskets. At the boom of the signal guns the Alabama brigade rose at a "right-shoulder shift," and moved forward in perfect alignment—slowly at first, until we came in sight of the enemy and received his first fire, and then with a dash to the works. For a moment or two the enemy overshot us and did no damage, but as we reached the works many were struck down and the gaps were apparent, but the alignment remained perfect. It was as handsome a charge as was ever made on any field, and could not have been excelled by the "Guard" at Waterloo, under Ney. On reaching the works the real fight began. Our men poured over into the crater and the ring of steel and bayonet in hand-to-hand fight began. Men were brained by butts of guns, and run through with bayonets. The brave Saunders (who sleeps in Hollywood) had a regular duel with a big Negro soldier, and both proved bad marksmen. Adjutant Fonville, of the Fourteenth Alabama (the bravest soldier ever under fire), was killed by a Negro soldier. So was Lieut. John W. Cole, of the Eleventh Alabama, and many other brave officers and men. This melee kept up for at least fifteen minutes, the enemy fighting with desperation because they were impressed with the idea that no quarter would be given. The credit of capturing the crater and all its contents belongs to Morgan Smith Cleveland, then Adjutant of the Eighth Alabama Regiment, who now fills a Patriot's grave at Selma, Alabama. I am told that his grave is unmarked, if not unknown, and that he was buried by charity; and I hang my head in humiliation if this information is true. Morgan Cleveland was as humane and tender as he was brave. Standing in the crater, in the midst of the horrid carnage, with almost bursting heart he said to a Federal colonel who was near him, "Why in the hell don't you fellows surrender?" and he put the accent on the cuss word. The Yankee replied quickly, "Why in the hell don't you let us?" A wink being as good as a nod, either to a blind horse or a brave soldier, the effect was instantaneous. The enemy threw down their arms, marched out as prisoners, some being killed or wounded by their own cannon as they filed past where I stood, and the day was saved as a glorious heritage for the Southern soldier and those who come after him. I remember helping Gen. Bartlett, of Boston (I think Bartlett was his name), who was trying to get out on two muskets inverted and used as crutches. I could see no evidence of physical pain in his face, and remarked to him that he must have nerves of steel, as his leg was shot away. He smiled and replied that he had lost his real leg at Williamsburg two years before, and the leg he had just had shattered was a cork leg. This is a brief account of the Alabama Brigade on that day—too brief and imperfect to do even partial justice to my old comrades, most of whom have already "passed over the river." It was a gallant band, and many of them sleep their last sleep in the soil of old Virginia, having given their lives in defense of its firesides. I am sure the gallant Col. Rogers, himself a brave Virginian, would not intentionally do them the slightest injustice if he knew it. And yet his article, without so intending perhaps, minimizes its services in these particulars: 1. Mahone's Brigade did not take charge of the line between the Appomattox and the James a little after the battle of the crater, but the whole of Mahone's division, including Forney's Alabama Brigade (Wilcox's old Brigade), Harris' Mississippi Brigade, Finnigan's Florida Brigade, Sorrell's (Wright's) Georgia Brigade, and Mahone's Virginia Brigade, took charge of that line in February, 1865; the Alabama Brigade occupying the extreme left of the line, its left resting at the Howlett Batteries on James river. We withdrew from this position on the night Richmond was evacuated. 2. The Alabama Brigade came up at the "Mine" and did the work of capturing the crater, which was the purpose of the movement, but it was not a "walk-over," as the Colonel terms it. It was one of the hardest fought fields of the war, and brilliant success was wrenched by valor from serious danger. Doubtless our friends, the Virginians and the Georgians peppered away at the enemy during the charge, but their fire did not "keep down all heads," as our lists of killed and wounded attest, nor did they go down into the crater like the Alabamians did. With a handful of men more than treble its numbers were captured, the lines re-established, and what promised at early dawn the closing victory of the war for the enemy, was turned into disastrous defeat by a few ragged Alabamians. I once asked a prominent officer on Gen. Grant's staff, what the General thought ought to have been done with Burnside for this failure at the Mine. He replied without hesitating, "He ought to have been shot."
Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 3, Nashville, Tenn., March, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- REMINISCENCES OF THE WILDERNESS [Marcus B. Toney, Nashville, Tenn.] The Wilderness is a peculiar country. It is slightly undulating, but nothing that side of the Rapidan attains the dignity of a hill. There was very little cleared land in 1864. Some sections were so thickly studded with pines that a man could not ride through them, and the scrub oaks were as thick. When I was there recently I found that in the thirty years the largest of the oaks had been cut into railroad crossties. Two roads lead from Orange C. H. to Fredericksburg; one the plank road, the other of dirt. Their divergence extends about three miles. The Germania Ford road, leading from Culpeper C. H. to Fredericksburg, intersects the dirt road at Wilderness Farm, two and a half miles east of the Wilderness battleground. This is the road on which Gen. Grant's army reached the Wilderness, and I saw the little valley on the road, near which still stand the two oak trees under which Gen. Grant pitched his tent and had his headquarters during the battle. The hospital tent where Gen. Stonewall Jackson had his arm amputated, was about two hundred yards in the rear of that spot. About six hundred yards to the rear is the plank road near Parker's store, which was the right of Gen. Lee's army, and near by is Tapp's Old Field, where Gens. Longstreet and Warren were so hotly engaged on May 5th. A Virginia quartz stone, near the plank road, marks the spot where a Texas Ranger, of Gen. Longstreet's corps, caught Gen. Lee's horse by the bridle and bade him go to the rear. In following the line of Gen. Grant's breastworks on the Brock road, I came to the old furnace road from Chancellorsville, which intersects it, and was the route Stonewall Jackson took to get in rear of the army at Chancellorsville. We left the Twenty-Third Georgia Regiment here to protect his flank, and they were captured. "Old Jack" had his men pile their knapsacks in the road, as he found they would impede them in the march and charge. This is about two and a half miles east of where Gen. Grant's headquarters were on May 5, 64. There is a monument at the spot where Gen. Jackson was mortally wounded in Chancellorsville fight. I stood with uncovered head at this sacred spot. During the battle, just as our pickets were being driven in, Gen. Sedgewick charged us in three columns with the 146th N. Y. Zouaves, commanded by Maj. Gilbert, who was killed and his regiment nearly annihilated. A battery of our artillery had been placed on our right, near the edge of the field, and was charged with grape and cannister, and as fast as the front column was mowed down, another would take its place, but our scattered line could not stop the onslaught, and on they came to our line and soon we would all have been captured, but for the arrival of Gen. Gordon. When recruited, we charged the enemy across the field to the Wilderness on the other side. Near by Gen. Grant had his artillery on the old dirt road, end two pieces were on the left of the road in the excavation of an old gold mine. In this engagement, my cousin, W. T. Norvell, was killed by my side, and my friend Kobert Early, was also killed. Hon. John W. Daniel was severely wounded. I had been a schoolmate of Daniel and Early in Lynchburg, and spoke to both of them during the engagement. Our loss was very heavy, but Gen. Grant's was much larger, for his men were in three columns and exposed to the open field. Next morning over 1,100 of his army were dead. On May 6th there was fighting on the extreme right and left, but it was quiet in front except now and then sharpshooters would fire at us from the trees. We expected an attack constantly, and were diligent in digging and throwing up breastworks. This "digging" was done with the bayonet, and the dirt thrown up with tin plates. In this section of the Wilderness is found quartz in large quantities, and before the war quite a number of gold mines were operated and much gold found, hence these pits. The morning of the seventh dawned upon us and yet no attack. The 1,100 dead were still on the field near our lines, and we had to bury them. While doing so, our scouts reported that Gen. Grant was moving by our left flank toward Spottsylvania, and we had to drop our spades and move by right flank in order to intercept him. The distance to Spottsylvania C. H. was some sixteen miles. On the march, May 8th and 9th, we had many skirmishes, and on the evening of the 10th, Gen. Gordon was quite heavily engaged. We passed in his rear while the fight was gowg on and reached what was afterward the bloody angle on that night, May 10th. The night was dark, the woods were dense, and the angle, which was much in the shape of a horseshoe, was formed by our engineering corps voicing to one another. We did not sleep any that night, but worked like beavers with our bayonets and tin plates. By noon of the 11th our trenches were five and a half feet deep, with pine logs resting in front and on top of the embankment, with sufficient space to shoot through. There was a cold, drizzling rain all day of the 11th and through the night, and we were in these muddy trenches. The rain rendered many of the guns useless. About daylight of May 12, 1865, while it was still raining, Gen. Hancock attacked us in two columns, and while my division (Gen. Ed. Johnson's) of 1,100 men was resisting the attack in front, Gen. T. F. Meagher, commanding an Irish brigade, broke on our left and took us in the rear, capturing our entire division. We jumped over the breastworks and went through the lines we had just been fighting, and I think there were about three guards to each prisoner. The boys wished to get out of the fracas, but when we reached a point about a mile in rear of Gen. Grant's army, the line was reorganized and the guard reduced to about one for three prisoners. I advised Gen. Johnson and Col. Norvell Cobbs to take off their rank and go with me in the prison as private soldiers, but they did not heed the advice, and were afterwards sent to Charleston under our fire and given a quart of meal a day. They marched us seventeen miles that day through the drizzle and mud. We met 25,000 fresh troops en route from Washington City to reinforce Gen. Grant. They guyed us all day. "Hello, Johnny Rebs, you naked and starved traitors, we are going to send you up to Uncle Sam, so you can be clothed and fed." On the march we heard the most terrific firing from musketry and cannon. From the bloody angle floated the stars and stripes, and then were twice replaced with the stars and bars. At nightfall Gen. Lee was in possession of the bloody angle, but at a great sacrifice. The trenches were piled to overflowing with the killed of both armies, and the dead were strewn thick all around. Some idea of the severity of the conflict may be gained from the stump of a hickory tree now at the Smithsonian Institute. It is about eighteen inches in diameter, and was cut down by minie balls. It hung a while by the bark and outer lining, till a stiff breeze toppled it over. Close by is a monument erected to Gen. Sedgewick near the spot he fell. After nearly thirty-one years the trenches are grown up with oak and pine, thirty to forty feet high. What a fearful campaign from the 5th of May to the 12th, when over 4,000 men fell, and in the seven days with nothing to eat but cornbread, and very little sleep. How changed was Palmer's Field! Where I saw the 1,100 dead, is now grown up a wilderness of pines, so dense the sun cannot penetrate.
Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 4, Nashville, Tenn., April, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE ARTILLERY AT BENTONVILLE [James G. Holmes, Charleston, S. C.] To my mind THE VETERAN, our Veteran, the Veteran of Veterans! is subserving no better purpose than in enabling old comrades, and even old enemies, to find each other out, and reconciling the natural differences of old soldiers as to "who led Lee to the rear." And now as to what branch of the service drove the Yankees back from our extreme left at Bentonville, N. C., on the third day of the fight (second day of the Infantry fighting). We read the account in January VETERAN, by Capt. B. L. Ridley, of Gen. Stewart's Staff, and comment in February number from Capt. George Guild, Texas Cavalry Brigade. I suggest that not only the cavalry and infantry, but the artillery, too, had something to do with it, and I believe the enemy thought that dear "old Joe Johnston" had prepared yet another surprise for Sherman, and that the falling back of the skirmishers of Butler's Cavalry Brigade, dismounted at the time, was merely a ruse. If Maj. Gen. E. McIver Law, who is now at Bartow, Fla., at the head of the military school established by himself and two sons, will write on the subject, he can definitely settle the matter, for he was in charge of that part of the line at the time. I purpose reconciling the accounts of the two Captains. I was acting temporarily as A. I. G. on Gen. Law's Staff, who was in command of Butler's division of Cavalry, Butler being sick. Wheeler's and Butler's Cavalry held the extended left of the infantry line. Wheeler's men were in temporary breastworks, and ,Butler's were dismounted and in skirmish order in the open woods to their left. Gen. Law realized the want of strength of this most important part of Gen. Johnston's louped-line, and being within a few hundred yards of one of the two bridges, only by which the army could cross the creek in its rear, rode to the right, accompanied by the writer alone of his staff, and reported the conditions to Gen. Hampton, who was then moving to the extreme right to initiate some cavalry movement. This caused Gen. Hampton to refer Gen. Law to Gen. Wheeler, and, riding down the line of breastworks to the left, in search of Gen. Wheeler, the Major General commanding, Wheeler's left was found, but he refused to extend his line to the left, claiming that it was thin enough to resist infantry. Just then one gun of Earl's Battery placed upon the skirmish line in a commanding position by order of Gen. Law, and commanded by Capt. Earl in person, opened, and Gen. Law rode direct to it at a gallop, and seeing the moving line of Yankee infantry, said: "Capt. Earl, get your gun out of here." This was done, but the reserve caisson, in turning, got a tree between the wheel and the limber chest, and had to be temporarily abandoned. The enemy in line of battle—how many lines deep I could not see—swept our line back until it reached our field hospital on the side of the road leading to thc bridge, and in sight of it. The enemy, evidently fearing a Joe Johnston trap,. for they knew he was once more in command, allowed themselves to be driven back by the splendid charge of the Texas Cavalry, led by the chivalric Lieut. Gen. Hardee, aided by a little Brigade of some two hundred and fifty infantry, and by the fire of two pieces of artillery put in position by Gen. Law, by the stubborn fighting of Butler's men on foot, and largely by the dashing charge of Young's Brigade, dismounted, with the fearless Col. "Gib" Wright in command, which struck the left of the enemy (as they emerged from the swamp), squarely on the left flank, and routed them, throwing their line into confusion. The writer had been sent with orders for Col. Wright, and on his way back met the said brigade of infantry just as they were passing Gen. Johnston, who had ridden to the point of attack. The brigade cheered him ]ustily, but he motioned with his hand for them to cease, and lifting his hat.—God bless the memory of this grand soldier!—said, " Don't cheer me, boys. I should cheer you for this welcome you have given me back," and then, well, the "Rebels yelled, " and perhaps prevented the routed yanks from trying it again. It was a "hands-round-all;" the three branches supported each other, and fought together that dashing fight of only a few minutes. Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 4, Nashville, Tenn., April, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FROM ACROSS THE FATHER OF WATERS [W. L. Morkison, Hamilton, Texas.] While the old soldier's hands are kept busy with labor and care, he, to some extent, puts away thoughts of the past, but v.,hen housed up against bad weather, old memories revive and those stormy years, '61 to '65, are vivid above ,all others. He lives over again his life in the camp, on the infantry march, the exciting cavalry scout or raid within the enemy's lines, and there rises up within him a desire to hear something of his old comrades. I rejoice that at last we have an organ of our own through which we can feel free to express ourselves to one another. Am sorry to see so few items from this side the Father of Waters. From reading the VETERAN, one would almost conclude we had no war west of the Mississippi, while, in proportion to our numbers, we held as many Federals in check, when protecting Texas and western Louisiana, as any portion of the Confederate forces had to contend with. We also had as brave men, as noble women as ever lived on earth. I will dedicate a small space to three as brave boys as ever wore the gray. In August, 1862, we were returning South from the "Lone Jack raid" during which, two hundred miles within the enemy's lines, we had given them a very genteel thrashing, and captured two fine brass-rifled cannon, which the Yankees vowed they would recapture at all hazards. We had stirred up a regular "hornet's nest," and the yanks concentrated upon us from every direction. When a few miles south of the Osage River the Federal advance began to make it rather warm for our rearguard, and our regiment (Hunter's) was ordered to form across the road and give them a check. Our position was on a ridge in open Black Jack timber. Our rearguard fell back through our line, and the pursuing Federals never discovered us until within sixty or seventy yards, when they immediately filed to the left and formed in our front, and firing commenced hot and heavy. I had just fired my gun, when my mare, becoming excited, reared up and while in that position received a ball between the eyes, and, falling over flat on her side, caught my left foot underneath and pinned me to the ground. I struggled a long time it seemed to me, and at last pulled my foot out badly bruised and minus my boot. By this time our line had begun to give way, and the Federals were advancing, but three brave boys, Jim McAnally, Joe Hunt, and Will Toler, stood by me, giving them "the best they had." About the time I got my foot clear, Jim McAnally's horse threw him, but he still held to the reins and was trying to mount, when a Federal officer, more daring than the rest, who was almost upon him, ordered him to surrender, emphasizing his order with shots from his pistol, two of which pierced Jim's sleeves. Joe Hunt had turned his horse to ride off, when, looking around, he saw Jim's peril and, half turning in his saddle, he raised his short Enfield and fired, and as the yank threw up his hands and rolled off his horse, exclaimed, "There, , take that!" Jim then mounted, and Toler said to me as coolly as if he had been in no danger, "Here, Will, get up behind me!" which I did in quick time, and his big iron gray carried us safely out. We had punished the enemy so severely that they never pressed us any more. Brave, handsome Will Toler! he poured out his life's blood for Dixie afterward. Hunt and McAnally both survived the war. As a Missouri ex-Confederate, I appeal to my old comrades to support and write for the VETERAN. Wake up, old boys in gray! we will soon all be gone. The youngest of us, who were mere lads when we buckled on our arms and kissed our dear ones at home good-bye, impelled by the stern sense of duty to follow our dear "Old Pap" (Gen. Price) in defense of our Southern rights, begin to feel the weight of years, and unless we leave record of those eventful years they will sink into oblivion. Dear old comrades, rally to the VETERAN, and may God bless you, and when Gabriel shall sound the last reveille, may we all meet on the Celestial Parade Ground.
Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 5, Nashville, Tenn., May, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CRUCIAL TEST FOR GENERAL S. D. LEE [W. L. Goldsmith, Lieut.-Col. Fourteenth Georgia Regiment, now of Meridian, Miss.] The morning after the fearful battle of Sharpsburg, when both armies were utterly exhausted and neither desired a renewal of the terrible carnage of blood, Col. S. D. Lee was ordered by Gen. Lee to report to Stonewall Jackson, commanding the Confederate left. Jackson took Col. Lee to a large Indian mound in advance of his main line, where Gen. Stuart's artillery had been severely handled the day before, scattered around which were the wrecks of several guns, caissons, and many dead horses. As they reached the mound, several minie balls of the enemy's sharp-shooters admonished them to be careful. They were in full view of McClellan's army, which reached around to the Potomac, with a strong skirmish line in front of it, and seventy to eighty pieces of artillery in plain view. Gen. Jackson quietly said, "Col. Lee, I wish you to take fifty pieces of artillery and crush the Federal right." At a glance, Col. Lee's practical judgment told him that before fifty pieces could be unlimbered and ready for action at short range, they would be almost totally annihilated, but he replied, "Yes, General, where will I get the guns?" Jackson said, "You can take your own guns and I will furnish the rest, and if they are not enough, Gen. Lee will furnish more. Can you crush the Federal right?" Col. Lee replied that he would try. "I did not ask you, Colonel, if you would try, but if you could do it, sir. "Col. Lee then said, "I will fight my guns, General, as long as any officer in Gen. Lee's army." Jackson sternly replied, "Answer my question, can you crush the Federals with fifty pieces of artillery?" Col. Lee said, "I can do it if anybody can." Jackson again said, "Answer my question, sir." Col. Lee then asked Gen. Jackson if he wanted a technical opinion as an artillery officer, or if he wanted the attempt made. Jackson replied, "I want your opinion, sir, as I have asked it." Reluctantly Col. Lee told him that it could not be done, as the guns would have to be brought up under fire of the Federal guns and skirmish line, and to be effective would have to be close to the enemy. Jackson replied, "That is all right, Colonel, let us ride back." When he said this, Col. Lee, fearing he had shown a lack of nerve that Gen. Jackson would doubt his ability as an artillery officer and, with tears in his eyes, begged to be allowed to make the attempt, promising to hold the guns there as long as he lived. Jackson, with moistened eyes, also, replied, "Colonel, nobody in this army doubts that you would hold them there as long as anybody else. It is all right. You go back to Gen. Lee and tell him all that has occurred between us since you reported to me until you left." When he had heard the circumstances, Gen. Lee was very sad, and said, "It is all right, Colonel. Rejoin your battalion of artillery. " A few days afterward, when the army had re-crossed the Potomac, Col. Lee learned that on the morning mentioned Gen. R. E. Lee had ordered Stonewall Jackson to concentrate from his own and Longstreet's Corps a battery of fifty cannon on McClellan's right and crush it. Jackson, after reconnoitering the position, sent word to Gen. Lee that it could not be done. Lee told him to make the attempt. Jackson then sent word that if Gen. Lee would send him an expert artillery officer and he said the plan was practicable and feasible, then he would make the attempt. Col. S. D. Lee was detailed by Gen. Lee to go to Gen. Jackson, not knowing for what purpose he was sent, with the above result. It was a gratification to him to be so honored by Gen. Lee, and to know that his technical opinion as an artillery officer coincided with that of the immortal Jackson. So, there was no fighting on the second day. A week or so after this, Gen. P. E. Lee sent for Col. Lee and told him that he had made up his mind to recommend him to President Davis for Brig-General of Artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia, but that he had that day received an order from President Davis to detail the best and most accomplished artillery officer in the army and send him to Vicksburg. Col. Lee asked for time to consider the matter. His friends urged him to go, and he accepted the position at Vicksburg. So, when the important position of Brigadier-General of Artillery was in S. D. Lee's grasp, he thus lost it. But what honor and glory were his! Few men ever had or deserved so much, but S. D. Lee was one of the "immortal few." Gen. Lee rose rapidly in the West. After his service he was promoted to command of the cavalry in Mississippi, and on May 9, 1864. he assumed command of all the Cavalry in Alabama, Mississippi, and East Louisiana. In July, 1894, he was put in command of the Hood Corps. He is now in charge of the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Miss. Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 12, Nashville, Tenn., December, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THRILLING STORY BY A UNION VETERAN [W. B. Lowell, Boston, Mass.] Of the battle of Newton, N. C., March, 1862, I saw a thrilling account a few days ago in which it was stated that a young Confederate artillery officer, Captain Mayo, was killed by the explosion of his magazine after our capture of the Confederate position. I wish to say such was not the case, as our regiment, the 11th Connecticut, captured him. But there is so much heroism in the incident that goes to the credit of the American soldier, I beg to relate it for your Journal for the benefit of posterity; and just here as one of the "Boys in Blue," I want to congratulate you on your efforts to perpetuate the individual acts of bravery and self-denial on the part of our "Brothers who wore the Grey." After we had carried the breastworks on that cold, dark, rainy day, I was moving up with a detachment in rear of one of the forts that had been and was still actively en~aging our gunboats and when within a few rods of it a mostly unearthly explosion took place that made us think a volcano had suddenly burst forth, hurling heavy timbers so high, they looked like walking-canes whirling in the air, and came crashing down around us with a rain of bursting shells. Not knowing what other kinds of infernal traps we were about to run into on that river, we beat a hasty retreat towards the railroad, taking up wounded prisoners ~ ho had been left by the burning of the Trent River bridge by the Confederates as they crossed. About night in going through some thick brush we found, lying on the ground on an old army blanket in which his men had dragged him from the field. this young man; his uniform torn in shreds, both legs broken, his face, neck, and hands burned black and badly torn, his eyes seemed burned out, and blood trickling from his whole body which was swollen in fact, he was the worst looking object to be alive I ever saw. Really I could not realize that he was alive until I asked his men (there were three of his men standing over him who told us they had come back to look for him after the explosion). I asked: "Who is this?" "Capt. Mayo." "How was he killed?" The Captain then spoke: "I am not quite dead." "How did you get hurt so?" "Blowing up my magazine." "Why did you do it?" "It was an order, and a soldier knows nothing but obedience." "You must be in great pain; can I do anything for you?" "A little water, lf you please, if you have it; you will have to pour it into my mouth, as I can't see nor use my hands." I did as he requested, which seemed to revive him, and he thanked me. He then told me he would not let any of his men go to the river after water for him, fearing that they might be seen, and that after nightfall he wanted to try to swim the Trent, the river was at least 1,000 feet wide and the weather cold) with his men and escape. "Then you were the cause of that terrific crash that came so near killing my squad, in rear of the fort that fought our gunboats so pluckily today?" "I suppose so; I saw you coming." "How much powder and shells did you have left?" "Some 3,000 pounds of powder and about 500 loaded shells." "Could you not have laid a longer train and got out of the way?" "That all could have been done had I anticipated defeat; besides, you were too close; I had just sent my men out, and knew the explosion would stop you, thereby enabling my men to get safely away." "Then you sacrificed yourself for your command?" "It was an order from a superior officer, the execution of which entailed great risk. I chose to do it. I didn't have a man but would have done it had I ordered him. But tell me, how came you to defeat us, and what part did you play in the drama to-day?" I told him we had turner the Confederates' right flank by the railroad, and that our regiment had charged with the 27th Massachusetts, and were among the first over the breastworks. "Well, somebody is to blame; we ought to have whipped you; we had the advantage in position, which should have overmatched your superior numbers, which I suppose you had. If my rear had been protected, I think I would have whipped your gunboats." When I first found him I had sent two men to the Ambulance Corps for a stretcher, and this conversation occurred while we waited. We lifted him tenderly to the stretcher when four men took him to our headquarters which were the 2nd North Carolina Cavalry Camp. On the way I told him I was sorry to see such as he suffering in a war the cause for which was due to the leaders such as Jefferson Davis. His reply was characteristic: "Give yourself no uneasiness on that score; the people of the South are the leaders, and were Mr. Davis less loyal to the Southern Cause he would not be President a day." About midnight, when good old Dr. Whitcomb got around to him to dress his wounds, not a groan or murmur had passed his lips and never did; he asked him if our wounded had been attended to and if the wounded prisoners had been looked after? Upon being assured that they had, says he "take me." The next morning he dictated an affectionate letter I wrote to his mother, telling her partially of his injuries and bidding her to be cheerful; this was sent through the lines by flag of truce. A few days after the battle I took his men with me to the scene of the explosion. They showed me where he had fallen when they picked him up; the full imprint of his body was plainly seen. I measured the distance he was thrown and it was over one hundred feet. Strange to say, in three or four weeks, under the skillful management of Dr. Whitcomb and the other doctors for they all came to see him he could see, and in about five months he was able to ride in an ambulance and Gen. Burnside sent him and his men through the lines without paroling them, the General having him to dine with him the day before he left. I hope he lived through the war if he was ever able to go in again and if alive will write me. He will remember me as reading whole books to him and playing the violin for him. While he was mettlesome, we always found him a gentleman and a man of most wonderful nerve. Confederate Veteran, Vol. III, No. 12, Nashville, Tenn., December, 1895. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TEST OF COURAGE FOR A SOLDIER [W. A. Collier, Memphis, Tenn.] I recently had the pleasure of meeting Maj. F. Dangerfield, one of the bravest of the brave, who often commanded the famous Eleventh Virgina Cavalry, under Gen. Jeb Stuart. Our convsation naturally drifted to the war, and he told of the remarkable exhibition of personal courage by Jim O'Mera. Near nightfall on the 6th of May, '64, the second day of the fighting in the Wilderness at Spottsvania, the General (Stuart) desired to ascertain whether or not the line of Federal earthworks his front had been abandoned. Gen. Stuart sent Maj. Dangerfield, whose regiment was close by, for a man who would perform a hazardous duty Private Jim O'Mera was selected and reported Gen. Stuart. In reply to his salutation, Gen. Stuart simply said, "You see that line of earthworks; I want to know if it is manned. Ride within seventy yards of it, then turn to the left and gallop parallel with it to the end of the line. If the enemy is there, ride rapidly and they will shoot behind you." Jim simply replied, "All right, Gin'ral, know it" with an appreciative gesture. Jim rode within seventy yards of the works and started his run, parallel with the line. The works being well manned, were immediately illuminated by terrific fusilade. It did not swerve Jim, however. When he had gone half the length of the line a bullet went through his horse's nose midway between the eye and the nostril. Jim then stopped his horse unslung his carbine, and with as much deliberation as if aiming at a squirrel, he fired upon the enemy he then spurred his horse and ran parallel with the line to the end; then hurried to Gen. Stuart, who had watched the wonderful feat, saluted and, reported: "They'er thar yit, Gin'ral." Maj. Dangerfield's beautiful and accomplished daughter, Henrietta Henderson Dangerfield, on eleven years of age, wrote the enclosed poem, which, with the story, deserves space in the VETERAN. There is no braver nor more patriotic race than the Irish. JIM O'MERA'S RIDE "Send me a man who is brave and true." This message the General sent, And over the roll in quick review The Captain, in fancy, went. "No lion's more brave than the Irishman, Aye brave. nor is steel more true Nor fears he loss of life or limb, Yes, Jim O'Mera'll do." His orders received, to horse Jim leapt, To the General's side he sped, Then checked his steed and doffed his cap. "Well, Gin'ral, I'm here," he said. Sure, never a shell more rough and rude, Covered a soul more brave and true, And the General thought, "The Captain's right. Yes, Jim O'Mera'll do." The orders were brief: "Ride parallel To the breastworks of the Yanks And see it they're manned." O'Mera bowed And smote his good steed's flank. He galloped amain, till parallel The piled-up breastworks lay Fully manned, he saw without thought of fear, Not seventy yards away. A cocking of rifles; a sudden flash, And the forest rang again. O'Mera escaped, but his horse was hit And plunged and reared in pain. Undaunted by the heavy fire, O'Mera drew his rein, And coolly fired his trusty gun And then rode on again. Ah, he rode for life! The foam on his horse Was flecked with bloody red. The breastworks passed. the lines regained "They're there yit, Gin'ral," he said.
Confederate Veteran, Vol. IV, No. 1, Nashville, Tenn., January, 1896. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE DEATH OF PRISONERS John Shirley Ward, Los Angeles, Cal. Prejudice is said, by one of out modern writers, to be unlike Achilles in that it has no vulnerable part. Prejudice is often transmitted from sire to son and based entirely on hereditary transmission, regardless of the facts of co-temporaneous history. Majority do not like to have the dreams of their lives dispelled, even by the light of truth; they are ready, like the Jews of old, to cry out, "Crucify him! Crucify him!" and take the chances of believing a lie. The treatment of "prisoners" during our Civil War, except so far as it may be necessary to establish the responsibility for the thousands of deaths which occurred in our prisons, will not be discussed in this article. The question as to who was responsible for most of the deaths of prisoners, is specific, and can only be answered by the facts and official actions of both Confederate and Federal Governments at that time, and we propose to treat of the authoritative acts of each government, including such acts of officials as have been endorsed and sanctioned by their government. TWO THEORIES IN REGARD TO THE WAR. The South made no preparation for keeping prisoners. Her idea was to, as far as possible after every battle, exchange the captured, man for man, and officer for officer, thus avoiding the necessity of prison-life with all its attendant horrors. The United States Government, believing the war would be over in ninety days, and knowing, from its population, it could put three or more men in the field to each one of the Confederates, expected, by holding every prisoner, to close the war by having captured the entire Confederate Army. With this idea dominating the Federal Government, the question of exchange of "prisoners" was hardly thought of. This theory was based on the supposition, afterwards verified by the facts, that, with an enlistment of Union soldiers of 2,778,304, after capturing the entire Confederate Army there would still be a United States Army of 2,168,304 soldiers. This was a fine theory, if the 600,000 Confederates had made up their minds to be captured, but their protests against this idea at First and Second Manassas, around Richmond, Fredericksburg, the Wilderness, Gettysburg, Shiloh, and Chickamauga, proved that they would not submit to being captured upon that plan. From the inception of the war, the South thought it better to fight her enemies than to feed them, and she began paroling Union prisoners before any Cartel for their exchange was agreed upon by the respective governments. A proposition to exchange prisoners was first made by the South, and at the time the Cartel was signed by the two governments the South held a large excess of prisoners over the North. The Cartel was dated July 22, 1862, and its terms were to exchange "officer for officer of same rank, and man for man, and to parole all officers and men then left in prison on either side, till they should be regularly exchanged." The South, holding at that time a large preponderance of Northern prisoners, was the loser by such agreement; but she liberated her excess of Northern prisoners and sent them home. By this means the prisons were empty, but, governed by her sense of honor and common humanity, she stood by the Cartel. Exchange went on with some degree of regularity till July 3, 1863, when it was known that on the next day the entire Confederate Army in Vicksburg would become prisoners, and thus give the North an excess of prisoners; then the following order was issued: WAR DEPARTMENT, ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFFICE WASHINGTON, D.C., July 3, 1863. "It is understood that captured officers and men have been paroled and released on the field by others than commanders of opposing armies, and that the sick and wounded in hospitals have been so paroled and released, in order to avoid guarding and removing them, which in many cases would have been impossible Such paroles are in violation of general orders and the stipulations of the Cartel, and are null and void. They are not regarded by the enemy and will not be respected by the United States. Any officer or soldier who gives such a parole will be returned to duty without exchange, and moreover, will be punished for disobedience of orders." (Signed) E. D. Townsend, A. A. G. In regard to the above order from the Federal War Department, we deny that the Confederate authorities eve; failed to recognize the validity of paroles given by their sick and wounded when captured in Confederate hospitals by the Federal Army, and demand the proof. If such a thing occurred during the war, it is an easy matter to state time and place. An order from the War Department, while a Cartel for the exchange of prisoners, mutually beneficial to both sides, was still in existence, says that "Prisoners who have been paroled by other than the commander of an army," and that the "sick and wounded in hospitals"; who have been paroled, because, perchance, their captors could not remove them, "shall be disregarded," also that the poor wounded soldier who had done his best for his country, and the officer who led him, accepting such parole, shall be "returned to duty without exchange and, moreover, will he punished for disobedience." If the mere fact of surrender is a stain on a soldier's honor, then the bravest men who ever walked the sulphurous edge of battle in all the armies of the world, bear it. International law, as laid down by Vattel and other recognized Publicists, have said that soldiers captured in battle and beyond the control of their government and beyond any relief from their government, had the right of self-preservation, and hence the right to give a parole not to fight against their captors till they were regularly exchanged. The laws of civilized warfare recognized the right of the captors to send sick and wounded prisoners to, the rear, even if at the cost of much suffering. The United States Government, claiming not only to be a civilized nation, but a Christian Nation, assumed to absolve honorable soldiers captured on the field from their paroles given to an enemy recognized as belligerents by the usages of war! Moreover, these officers and soldiers, though they may have been captured when charging the guns of the enemy, and then paroled, were to be "punished for disobedience of orders." Preposterous the idea that if a brave soldier, who had perhaps fought fifty battles with the stars and stripes in his hand, having always been ready to march upon the enemy at the tap of the drum, if in a great battle his eye should be shot out, or his leg should be taken away by a cannon-ball, that he should be "punished for disobedience of orders," simply because he gave his parole of honor not to fight against his opponents until he might be exchanged! It was Andersonville, or a parole, with the captured. Having done all that bravery and endurance could do, was it not adding insult to their condition to propose to punish them, because they preferred to give the parole of an honorable soldier, to taking their chances in prison life? Under the order of the War Department, which was dominated by Secretary Stanton, neither officer nor soldier captured on line of battle was allowed the benefit of a parole, and if they accepted it they were dishonored for disobedience and sent back into the ranks to be treated by the laws of war, as traitors if they should be re-captured by the Confederates. The Confederates captured nearly 6,000 prisoners at Gettysburg, and proceeded to parole them on the field, but when they had given parole to about 2,000, this order of the Dark Ages from Secretary Stanton came to hand, and the other 4,000 had to foot it to Richmond, a weary march of several hundred miles, to undergo the discomforts of Libby or Andersonville. Was this torture needed to make these brave men respect the dignity and power of their government, when each one knew that such an order was a violation of the solemn honor of his government, which it had willingly carried out whenever the South held more prisoners than it did? After thousands of Union prisoners had been paroled and allowed to go home till they were exchanged, the War Department of the Federal Government modified the Cartel, under which a general exchange of prisoners was agreed on, and limited the exchange to "those held in confinement." This order could only mean, to people of ordinary common sense, that those who had been paroled are safe at home, and we will not allow the Confederates to use them as exchanges for prisoners afterwards captured. Had the Confederates not regarded the honor of these they would have kept them in prison. The Confederates expected that the United States Government would stand by the obligations of her soldiers, many of whom had been captured close by the cannon's mouth. But this order sending them back to the army, though their parole of honor was then in the hands of the Confederate War Department, and, if violated, would bring them to the gallows or other ignominious form of death, by the laws and usages of war. The 4,000 prisoners captured at Gettysburg were marched back to Richmond under all the hardships of a Government unable to furnish anything, except the scantiest supplies to her own soldiers, and were sent to their necessary doom at Libby or Andersonville, when, according to the Cartel, they should have been sent home to their families, as brave soldiers of the Union, until the number of prisoners on each side justified an exchange. We do not desire to avoid-any question which gave the Federal Government a plausible excuse for not carrying out the Cartel. One reason given by its authorities for a failure to carry out the conditions of the Cartel, was that the South had violated it in refusing to exchange Negroes equally with white soldiers. Did this refusal to recognize the late slaves of the South as legitimate prisoners of war justify the Federal Government in permitting her brave white soldiers in Southern prisons to die, in order to force the Confederate Government to exchange as prisoners some of their former slaves? The South's position on this question is best established by a review of the expressed animus of the United States Government at the beginning of the war and its aims. When Mr. Lincoln was on his way to be inaugurated, and also in his inaugural address, he denied any desire to interfere with slavery in the States, and his Proclamation of War against the South was not because of her acceptance and endorsement of slavery, but because of her effort to dissolve the Union. It was this call to save the Union which thrilled the heart of the North from Maine to the Pacific. If these thousands had been called to blot out Negro slavery there would never have been a Union Army. Even after the war was under full headway and the Federal Army had crossed into Kentucky, there was no evangel in its front, proclaiming the emancipation of the Negro, and there was not a day in the year 1862 when a Kentucky slave-holder, who was raising a regiment to save the Union, could not have sold his own Negroes on the block without molestation. Mr. Lincoln, in his first annual message, asked Congress to pass an Act for the abolition of slavery in the year nineteen hundred, each slave-holder to be compensated for his slaves. This he thought would save the Union. He closed this message with a paragraph that all the loyal of the South "should be compensated for all losses, by acts of the United States, including losses of slaves." In the first part of this message, Mr. Lincoln was in favor of paying for all slaves emancipated, brought about by the United States Army, in addition to the value of the slaves. Mr. Lincoln in his Emancipation Proclamation did not offer to every slave the guerdon of freedom, as he excepted thirteen counties in western Louisiana, the City of New Orleans, all of West Virginia, and several counties in old Virginia. The fact that he did not offer freedom to the slaves in this territory is proof conclusive that any man or set of men who were enlisted in the War for the Union had the legal as well as the moral right to hold their slaves. To every mind capable of a logical deduction of this, it meant at that time the moral obligation of slavery depended on the loyalty of the owner to the Union. This fact led the Southern Government to decline to recognize Negroes as prisoners of war who had been decoyed from their homes by promises of large bounties for enlistment against their old masters; and it was intended by the Cartel that it should include the exchange of only free soldiers. This was not a question of color, for the South was willing to regard as prisoners free Negroes who had been captured in the Union Army. It follows, therefore, at the time of making the Cartel neither Congress nor Mr. Lincoln had made any movement looking to the emancipation of the slaves, and every reasonable mind must conclude that the Negro soldier, was under the law was yet a slave, was used as a mere subterfuge in order to prevent all exchanges. This may have been comforting to the captured Negroes, but it peopled the graveyards of the South with thousands of the North's best white soldiers. If the widows of those who died at Andersonville, or the children of those who died in Libby, can extract any comfort from their death, from the fact that they died as martyrs to preserve the military equality of the Negro with the white soldier, then a Pantheon should be erected to protect their remains when they die, as specimens of the loftiest self-abnegation the world has ever known. General Butler, while Commissioner for exchange of prisoners, an intense hater of the South. knowing there were only a few hundred Negro soldiers who were prisoners, and knowing they were accustomed to a Southern climate, and the "hog and hominy" diet of the Southern soldier, insisted on the United States Government waiving their exchange in order to release thousands of her bravest white soldiers, leaving the question of the status of the Negro soldier to be settled in the future. We ask, was it better that ten white soldiers should die in prison the n one Negro should fail to be exchanged? We propose to show who was to blame for failure to exchange prisoners, and consequently who is responsible for the thousands of graves under the pines of Georgia. 1st. The South was opposed to all prisons—preferring to exchange all prisoners on the field. 2nd. The South first proposed to enter into a Cartel for exchange of prisoners, and at a time when she had thousands more prisoners than were held by the North. 3rd. She carried out this Cartel faithfully—delivering thousands of prisoners, on their parole, because the North did not have prisoners to exchange for them. 4th. The North, then having many of her paroled prisoners at home, and on the eve of the surrender of Vicksburg, knowing the Confederates to be captured there the nett day would give her a preponderance of prisoners an order was issued by Secretary Stanton, disallowing and revoking all paroles by other than the commander of an army, of either sick, well or wounded, ordering them back into the ranks to be punished: for disobedience of orders. 5th. The North, after getting en excess of prisoners on hand, proposed to continue the exchange, confining it to prisoners then in confinement, thus attempting to evade an honest compliance with the Cartel by declining to exchange paroled prisoners for those of the Confederates then in their prisons. 6th. The South humiliated herself by parading before the United States Government the unhappy condition of Northern prisoners and which she was powerless to mitigate. 7th. The South, after confessing her inability to furnish Northern prisoners with proper food and medicine, and not wishing them to die in prison submitted to Major-General Hitchcock, the Federal Agent for exchange, the following proposition: CONFEDERATE WAR DEPARTMENT, RICHM0ND, VA., January 24, 1864. Sir: In view of the present difficulties attending the exchange and release of prisoners, I propose that all such on each side be attended by a proper number of their own surgeons, who, under rules to be established, shall be permitted to take charge of their health and comfort. I also propose that these surgeons shall act as Commissaries with power to distribute such contributions of money, food, clothing and medicine as may be forwarded for the relief of prisoners. I further propose that these surgeons be selected by their own governments, and that they shall have full liberty at any and all times, through their agents of exchange, to make reports, not only of their acts, but of any matters relating to the welfare of prisoners. Respectfully ROBERT OULD Confederate Commissioner of Exchange. When Judge Ould offered the United States Government the right to send by her own surgeons and medicines for Union prisoners, the medica1 supplies in the South had long been exhausted. Quinine was then worth in the South $60.00 per ounce, while it was worth only $5.00 in New York. As thousands of Union prisoners died from malarial diseases incident to the Southern climate, who might have been saved with the proper medicines, does not the refusal to furnish such medicine fix the responsibility of their deaths upon the United States Government? This broad Christian offer was never noticed by the Federal Government. Finding that the United States Government paid no attention to this Christian proposition, then the Confederate Government ordered Judge Ould to propose to the United States Government to furnish, without equivalents, 15,000 of their sick ~nd wounded at the mouth of the Savannah [liver as soon as they would furnish transportation. This offer was made early in August, 1864, but not a vessel reached the mouth of the river to receive these prisoners till late in the following December, thus allowing death to reap its greatest victories during the months of September, October and November. The South turned over to the North on the arrival of the first ship 13,000 sick and wounded, and many strong, healthy men, receiving only 3,000 sick soldiers in lieu thereof. Prompt acceptance of this humane proposition would have returned to their country and families thousands of those who now sleep under the pines around Andersonville. 8th. The South, moved by the sufferings of Union prisoners, and being utterly without medicine, proposed to the Federal authorities to buy medicines from them, paying in gold, cotton or tobacco, at even two or three prices for the same, for the Union prisoners, pledging the honor of the South not to use one ounce of it for Southern soldiers. This was declined or never accepted. Was it Christian to refuse to sell medicine to their own men who were dying for the want of it? If it was, the Sermon on the Mount ought to be relegated to the land of fable. 9th. We now come to the final reason why it was best that Union prisoners should die in prison, rather than to be released to their homes. It is the argument of military necessity. It was a question of the few dying for the many. General Grant had said in his dispatch to General Butler, August 18, 1864: "It is hard on our men held in Southern prisons not to exchange them, but it is humanity to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. At this particular time, to release all rebel prisoners North would insure Sherman's defeat, and would compromise our safety here." Did any one ever think that if the 95,000 Confederate prisoners then in Northern prisons had been released, it also released 95,000 Union prisoners? If General Grant regarded each Northern soldier equal on the field to each Southern soldier, what difference would this exchange have made in the relative numbers of the two armies? The truth is, General Grant never hoped for success except in overwhelming numbers. As a General he was wise, prudent and brave, and knew that the greater millstone must ultimately wear away the lesser. Military necessity. The refusal to exchange prisoners and the enlistment of Negroes were a military necessity, and this won the fight. The battle of Gettysburg ended on July 3, 1863. On the next day, General Lee, finding himself encumbered by many thousands of prisoners, addressed General Meade, proposing to exchange them. To this note General Meade replied by telegram to Major-General Halleck: "A proposition made by General Lee, under flag of truce, to exchange prisoners was declined by me." (Signed) GEORGE C. MEADE, Major-General. Gettysburg, July 4,10 p.m. Was this not the day of all the days in the year, when a General, who, for three days, on inaccessible heights, with 95,000 men, had hardly held at bay an army of 65,000, should, knowing his inability to prevent General Lee marching these prisoners to Libby or Andersonville, have gladly accepted an opportunity to exchange them on the field, and thus save them from the long tramp and prison life? In October, 1864, General Lee wrote to General Grant as follows: "To alleviate the sufferings of our soldiers, I propose the exchange of prisoners of war taken by the armies operating in Virginia man for man, upon the basis established by the Cartel." On the next day General Grant replied as follows: "I could not of right accept your proposition further than to exchange prisoners captured within the last three days, and who have not yet been delivered to the commanding General of prisoners. Among those lost by the armies around Richmond were a number of colored troops. Before further negotiations can be had upon the subject, I would ask if vou propose to exchange these men the same as white soldiers?" General Lee said, in rejoinder: "Deserters from our service, and Negroes belonging to our citizens, are not considered as subjects of exchange." Jefferson Davis in 1864, seeing the distress and death among the Union prisoners, which he had no power to avert, sent a commission of Union officers from Andersonville to Washington to present their situation to Mr. Lincoln and insist on an immediate exchange, but they failed to get an audience with Mr. Lincoln, it is believed by the influence of Mr. Stanton, and no satisfactory results were obtained. All the reasons heretofore given are subsidiary and lead up to the one reason in the mind of the United States Government against the exchange of prisoners. It was set forth in General Grant's reply of April 1, 1864, in which he forbade General Butler, "To take any step by which any able-bodied man should be exchanged till further orders from him." Taken in connection with his order to General Butler heretofore referred to, it was the enforcement of the idea of military necessity that last plea of despots all over the world. Here was the wisdom and cunning of a Bismarck allied to the utter disregard of human life or suffering which characterized many of the Generals of the Dark Ages. Here was the policy of the Spanish Inquisition to murder the innocent rather than give equal advantage to the enemy. Mr. Lincoln, in his great heart, was ready to do justice to friend and foe alike, but back of him stood Phillip II of Spain in the person of Stanton who said by every act, "It is better to have every Union soldier die in prison than to turn loose an equal number of Confederate prisoners." This military necessity grew out of the fact that, whereas the South had enlisted in her armies 600,000 soldiers, the North had only 2,778,304 soldiers on her rolls. Search the annals of warfare from the days of Xenophon down to this, and there cannot be found one instance where an army numerically four times as strong as its enemy has deliberately allowed its own soldiers to die in prison rather than liberate an equal number of the captured. Without any regard to the "treatment of prisoners" by either side during the war, and it was bad enough on both sides, we ask every sane, thinking man to fix the responsibility for deaths occurring in prison where it belongs. If the South held her captives in order to persecute and torture, she ought to be anathematized by the Nations, but if the South was always ready to live up and parole her captives, and the Union Government was not willing to receive them, because every Rebel released meant a recruit to the Southern Army, then history must affix on the United States Government its lasting condemnation. Confederate Veteran, Vol. IV, No. 3, Nashville, Tenn., March, 1896. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "SOUTHERN SOLDERS." The Boston Evening Gazette. established in 1813, has an article under the above caption. Read it. A few members of the Grand Army of Republic in Woburn are complaining that the text-books used in teaching history to the public school children of that town are robbing them of some of their hard earned laurels. They seem to advocate a return to the style of book in vogue twenty-five years ago when pupils were taught that Jefferson Davis was a little bit worse than old Satan himself, and that Southern chivalry meant cowardly brutality. How can it detract from the glory of brave men to tell their posterity that the foes they conquered were among the finest soldiers that the world has ever seen? What generous Northern veteran would strive to rob the South of that which belongs to her as the mother of those intrepid heroes who followed Pickett to annihilation at Gettysburg? Our united country is proud of them. The fame of their unsurpassed valor is part of our national heritage. Every truly patriotic American hopes that the mighty race is not extinct, and that when the call comes for the men of Virginia, of South Carolina and of Alabama to stand under the old flag, shoulder to shoulder with the men of Massachusetts, of Pennsylvania and of Illinois, there shall arise another Lee, another Jackson and another Johnston. What stainless knight of mediaeval romance can claim precedence over these? To cast one false slur upon their fame is to insult the memory of Grant, of Sherman and of Sheridan. To that editor: May you live long and prosper.
Confederate Veteran, Vol. IV, No. 3, Nashville, Tenn., March, 1896. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE INDIAN TERRITORY 1861 to 1865 Thomas F. Anderson, Mills, La. I have concluded to contribute an account of the part taken by our Southern Indians in the war between the States, but have to depend on memory. Strange to say, my recollection of what took place under my observation in the war with Mexico in 1845 and '47, is more vivid than that of our last war. But few dates are remembered. Being more intimately connected with the Cherokees, what I have to say will principally concern them. We must glance back and refer to the causes which led to a division in that tribe into two parties, between whom the feeling ran as high as that between the Democratic Party South, and the Abolition Party North, previous to and at the outbreak of our Civil War. At the time of the discovery of America, the Cherokees, then a powerful tribe, occupied much of Georgia. parts of Tennessee, North and South Carolina and a small strip of Southern Virginia. They gradually withdrew from Virginia, moving South, and during Gen. Jackson's presidency, resided principally in Georgia. As white settlers occupied that State, the usual crowding out process began, and laws were passed bearing hard and injuriously upon the Cherokees. Their principal chief was John Ross, a man of liberal education, crafty and unreliable. To secure peace and quiet propositions, from the United States had been made to purchase their lands east of the Mississippi River and set apart to them a reservation west of the State of Arkansas. These propositions were bitterly opposed by Mr. Ross and his party, numerically the strongest, but composed principally of full bloods. On the other hand, Major Ridge, founder of the party subsequently named after him and composed of half breeds and slave owners, among whom was Elias Boudinot, one of the ablest and most cultured of his people, saw that eventually his people would have to sell or be driven off, and with his followers concluded a Treaty with the United States, disposing of all their lands east, and agreeing to take a reservation west of the Mississippi. The Treaty was ratified by the United States Senate, and the removal of the Cherokees began in 1828. Previous to this, however, a small body of Cherokees, afterwards known as Old Settlers, had removed and settled in western Arkansas. John Ross, still the principal chief, now began oppressing the Ridge party, and had their principal men, such as the Ridges, Boudinot, Jim Starr, the Adairs and others murdered. Stand Watie, now the leader of the Ridge party, had attempts made upon him, but they all failed. The last attempt was made by a noted bully named Foreman, who was himself laid out by Watie. In 1860 there were unusual local disturbances. A secret organization, known as the Ketowah Society, had long existed among the followers of John Ross. The object of this organization was destruction to half breeds and white men living in the nation. The badge of membership in this association was two pins crossing one another and fastened to the lapel of the coat, vest or hunting shirt. Hence they received the name and were known as Pins. We captured all their papers during the war. I have them and the Kansas Jayhawkers to thank for the burning of my house and the destruction of all else that I possessed. Ia May, 1861, Gen. Albert Pike came as Commissioner from the Confederate States Government authorized to make treaties with the Southern Indians. At first Chief Ross refused and insisted on his nation remaining neutral, and would not allow enlistment of Cherokee troops into the Confederate service. Stand Watie had, however, in a quiet way enlisted a regiment in readiness to join the Confederates. John Ross was evidently holding off for further development. This was before the battle of Springfield, on Wilson's Creek, as the Yankees called it. Success crowning our arms there, Ross hastened to treat with Gen. Pike and agreed to put in the Confederate service a regiment to be armed and equipped by the Confederacy, and he did so. In making that treaty he would allow none of the leaders of the Ridge party to take part in it. Previous to this Gen. Ben McCulloch authorized Capt. John Miller and myself to raise an independent company to serve for three months. We were known as the Dixie Rangers and we were to occupy the neutral land in part of the Territory and Southern Kansas. In that company served the afterwards noted William Quantrell, about whom I will, at some future time, take occasion to say something, to correct stories about this death, etc. I will only say here that, when you knew Quantrell, you knew a kind-hearted man, an intrepid soldier and a gentleman of whose friendship I was, and am, proud. The Third Louisiana Regiment came up to us. Many of us saw that Regiment under fire at Springfield and Pea Ridge, where it made its mark as well as at other points, wherever it served, in fact. When that Regiment left us after the Pea Ridge fight, our Indians were distressed, and to the end of the war they never ceased to regret the separation from them of the Third Louisiana. At the expiration of their three months' term of service the Dixie Rangers were disbanded, and nearly all, myself included, joined Company K., First Cherokee Regiment. Capt. Thompson Mayes, a brother of the late principal Chief Joel B. Mayes. Capt. Mayes was a man of superior education and a fine officer. This was Colonel Watie's pet company. There was but the one company in the First Cherokee Regiment, composed of and officered by Indians. In the other companies, whites and Indians were mixed as well among the officers as in the ranks, and it worked well and smoothly. In the Choctaw regiments some companies were either all whites or all Indians, which caused more or less friction and jarring. But the plan had been adopted by Col. D. N. Cooper and could not well be changed. Many of Col. Watie's Regiment took part in the battle of Springfield, but went there with his permission as individuals and not as an organized body. A number of Missourians came to us and took part in the fight. Some came unarmed and others armed with their shotguns and rifles. Among them was an old, lean and lank Baptist preacher with a Flintlock rifle about seven feet long. He would kneel on one knee, take deliberate aim, and say: "May the Lord have mercy on that poor critter's soul," and pull the trigger. Then he would get up, reload, get down on one knee again and repeat his prayer, fire. I stood and looked at him fire five or six times, and I believe he made every bullet count. Very little was done between that fight and the battle of Pea Ridge, except a fight that took place in December, 1861, between our Cherokees and the forces of Opothleoholo, the leader of the so-called Loyal Creeks, Seminoles, Wichitas, Kickapoos and Delawares. The weather was extremely cold. We found Opothleoholo occupying a strong position in the mountains near Chustenola. We commenced driving them from the start, captured their baggage and papers, and followed them for three days up into Kansas to the big bend of Arkansas River. The Pin Regiment came up the second day, but took no part in the fight. Many of the enemy were killed. Here and there we would strike bunches of their squaws huddled together. These we sent back to our camp and fed. In their flight they had thrown away their infants, which were frozen stiff. Altogether it was a sickening sight. After this, nothing worth noting took place until we were ordered to Pea Ridge, where the Cherokees distinguished themselves capturing a battery. Here one of the Yankee artillerymen was lying stretched out, face down, between two of the pieces apparently dead. One of our full blood Cherokees took out his knife, got his fingers in the Yankees hair and cut out and jerked off a scalp about the size of a dollar. Thus resurrected, Mr. Yank got him on his legs in a hurry, and "he ran like a quarter horse," not a gun was fired after him, but a yell went up: "Go it, Yank, we have a lock of your hair." This scalping business, however, brought on more or less correspondence between opposing commandery, and our Indians were strictly ordered to keep their fingers out of white men's hair, leaving it optional with them to take such mementoes from other Indians or let it alone. At this time we were in the Department of Arkansas, first under Gen. Holmes and next under Gen. Hindman. We were then put into a department of our own, called the Indian Department, and under Gen. Steele. Colonels Cooper and Watie were made Brigadier-Generals. Gen. Watie had the command of the First Indian Brigade, consisting of the First and Second Cherokee Regiments, commanded respectively by Colonels J. M. Bell and W. P. Adair, Scales' Battalion, Major J. A. Scales and Quantrell's Battalion, the latter the most of the time on detailed service in Missouri and Kansas. The Second Indian Brigade, Gen. Cooper, was composed of two Choctaw regiments and the Chickasaw Battalion. The Third Brigade consisted of First Creek Regiment, Col. D. N. McIntosh, and the Second Creek Col. Chilly McIntosh. and the Seminole Regiment Col. John Juniper, and commanded by Brig. Gen. Sam Checoti. In the summer of 1862, I was sent out west to enlist for the Confederacy, and succeeded in raising one battalion of Osages, Major Broke Arm, one large company of Caddoes and Arrapahoes, Capt. George Washington, and one company of Comanches, Capt. Esopah or Esc Habbe, their Chief. All of these reported to Gen. Watie and were of good service to us, as they rambled between Kansas and the Texas Panhandle and prevented any invasion from Kansas, which otherwise would undoubtedly have taken place. After the Pea Ridge fight, Gen. Price's Missourians and the Third Louisiana Regiment were ordered east of the Mississippi River, and we were left to ourselves, all Indians, except Wills' Battalion and a Texas infantry regiment, which were stationed at our depot of supplies and saw no fighting. In the summer of 1862, Chief Ross and the Pin Regiment deserted to the Yankees. From that on we saw no rest, and hardly a week passed but what bushwhacking engagements between us and the Northern Indians and Yankees took place. Early in the spring of 1863 the military authorities in Kansas conceived the idea of returning the Northern refugee Cherokees to their homes in time to plant a crop. They had furnished them with horses, seeds and necessary agricultural implements, and they came escorted by Gen. Blount, commanding Kansas troops, and Col. Phillips, commanding the old Pin Regiment. But Gen. Watie did not propose to let them alone. We routed them from settlement to settlement and they, together with Col. Phillips' Regiment, had to shut themselves up in Fort Gibson. We were quite beholden to the Yankees for the supplies thus furnished by them, which mostly fell into our hands. Gen. S. B. Maxey now took command of the Department. He was the Indians idol. His free and easy manner suited them exactly; besides, he was a fighter and kept us moving. When Red River Banks started on his expedition, which terminated at Mansfield, Federal Gen. Steele was to move out from Little Pock, and Gen Thayer from Fort Smith, to join Banks in Texas. The greater part of our Indians were waiting for Thayer to come out from Fort Smith, but he concluded best not to show himself and he acted wisely, for our boys were spoiling for a fight. Part of the Indians commanded by Gen. Maxey met Steele at Poison Springs, captured his train, and sent two Negro regiments to the happy hunting grounds. We followed Steele on his retreat to Saline River, where we fought in mud and water, belly deep to our horses, and felt very much relieved when Parsons' Brigade of Missourians, who had force-marched it from Mansfield' came up in double quick, and one of them called out: "Stand aside, you critter companies, and let us at them." Well, we critter companies stood aside, and Parsons' men went at them sure enough. I must pass over numerous small engagements we had with the Northern Indians. They gave us the most trouble. Had we not had them to fight, we would have had a comparatively easy time of it. But they knew the country as well as we did and took advantage of that knowledge. Their losses, however exceeded ours. Among our captures from the enemy, I will mention one steamboat loaded with dry-goods, near Webber's Falls, for Fort Gibson, and a train of about 200 wagons loaded principally with ready made clothing, on Cabin Creek, Cherokee Nation. The last winter of the war, Gen. Maxey was ordered to Texas, Gen. Cooper took command of the Indian Department, and Gen. Watie of the Indian Division. This was the first time that we saw some rest for a little over a month, when we had gone into winter quarters near Red River in Choctaw Nation. About a year previous to this, messengers had been sent to the Western and Northwestern Indians to meet us in Council at Walnut Springs. The object of this council was, first, to make peace between the different tribes. The next program was for these tribes, thus united, to invade Kansas from the north and west, whilst we would meet them from the south, and leave but a greasy spot of Kansas. We had, during that winter, prepared a number of pack saddles, as we would not be encumbered with a train. Unfortunately, Gen. Lee's surrender took place but a short time before the meeting of this Council. Hence, we thought best to confine the proceedings to peace-making between the Indians, and I have heard of no war between them from then until now. Tribes from Idaho, Dakota and Montana were present. It was, perhaps, the largest lndian Council that ever met. The disbanding of the Indian troops took place in April, 1865. The Choctaws, Chickasaws, Creeks and Seminoles returned to their respective homes, which had not been desolated. With tine' Southern Cherokees it was different. Their houses had been burned, their stock stolen and driven into Kansas. Many of them who, at the outbreak of the war, counted their stock of horses and cattle by the thousands, could barely raise a pony to go home on. Their country was now in possession of the Federals and Pins, and they were therefore compelled to remain as refuges in the Choctaw Nation and keep up a quasi military organization until after the meeting of the United States Commissioners and Southern Tribes of Indians at Fort Smith, in June, 1865, when peace was declared. I have thus endeavored to give a mere outline of the campaign in the Indian Territory. But I cannot conclude this hasty and incomplete sketch without words of praise to our Indian allies, especially the Cherokees, under their able leader, Stand Watie, and our Seminoles, under that good man and strict disciplinarian, Col. John Juniper.
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