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 Misc Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 4 Nashville, Tenn., April, 1900. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG Col. A. H. Belo Reminiscences of the sanguinary conflict related by Col. A. H. Belo, of the Fifty-Fifth North Carolina Infantry, before the Sterling Price Camp, of Dallas, Tex., January 20, 1900: In response to your request, so graciously presented. by Judge Watts, I will give you some reminiscences of the battle of Gettysburg. After the battle of Chancellorsville Gen. Lee spent some time in reorganizing the army into three corps, commanded respectively by Gens. Longstreet, A. P. Hill, and Ewell; and in June, Ewell's column taking the left of the line, we advanced into Maryland. It was an army of veterans-an army that had in two years' time made a record second to none for successful fighting and hard marching. What a contrast between the enthusiastic volunteers who fought at Bull Run in 1861, and this army of trained veterans marching into the enemy's country! As a writer describing the second crusade said, "It was a goodly sight, and every man's heart was lightened and his courage strengthened as he felt that he himself had his share and part of the glorious whole." Gen. Alexander, in the "Century War Book," writes: "Except in equipment, a better army, better nerved up to its work, never marched to a battlefield." Gen. Ewell proceeded to within a few miles of Harrisburg, Pa., and had that city within his grasp when he was recalled to join Lee at Gettysburg. Gen. A. P. Hill's Corps, to which I belonged passed through Hagerstown, Md., and Gen. Heth's Division camped at Cashtown on June 29. Gen. Lee's headquarters were near us, and Gen. Harry Heth asked permission to send one brigade into Gettysburg on the morning of June 30 to get a supply of shoes. He sent Pettigrew's North Carolina brigade, but they found the town occupied by what they thought were militia, and having instructions not to precipitate a fight, withdrew. Gen. Heth then asked permission from Gen. Lee to send two brigades the next day, which was granted, but he has told me several times since the war that Gen. Lee felt very solicitous about the movements of the enemy, as Gen. Stuart, commanding the cavalry, had gone on a raid near Washington and left Gen. Lee, as he remarked, "without his eyes." Heretofore his cavalry had not only partially veiled his own movements, but had afforded valuable information as to the movements of the enemy. However, on the morning of July 1 Gen. Heth ordered Davis's and Archer's Brigades to advance upon the town, and about 9 o'clock we passed Pettigrew's Brigade. In conversation some of the officers said we would find militia in the town. We had not advanced very far before we were ordered to throw owl a line of skirmishers, and immediately after that the first gun was fired by Marye's battery, and was responded to by Hall's battery on the Federal side. The Fifty-Fifth North Carolina was to the left of the line, and as the cavalry was threatening them, a company was thrown out to protect our left flank. In this way we advanced with continual skirmishing, the line of battle following closely after. After crossing Willoughby Run the firing became very heavy and the order to charge with bayonets was given, and we started with a yell. Col. Connally, commanding the regiment, fell seriously wounded, and I went to him and asked him if he was badly hurt. He said: "Yes, bat the litter bearers are here; go on, and don't let the Mississippians get ahead of you." We soon broke the Federal line, which was well marked by their dead and wounded. The first wounded man I asked replied: "We are Joe Hooker's men, and have marched five miles this morning;" so I told one of my officers that we had struck the regular army, and not the militia. This Federal force was Cutler's Brigade, and it was completely routed. In the meantime Archer's Brigade on our right had met the "Iron Brigade," commanded by Gen. Reynolds, who was killed in that engagement. After the repulse of Cutler's Brigade we continued our advance and soon saw another Federal force coming on the field, one regiment, which afterwards proved to be the Sixth Wisconsin, marching at right angles w th us. They formed a line of battle and changed front to meet us, and at the same time were joined by the Ninety-Fifth New York and Fourteenth Brooklyn. I was so impressed with the fact that the side charging first would hold the field that I suggested to Maj. Blair, commanding the Second Mississippi on my right, that we should charge them before they had their formation completed. He agreed to this, but just at than' time we received orders to form a new alignment. At the same time the Federals, taking advantage of this, were advancing, and before our new alignment could be completed, charged up to the railroad cut. One officer, seeing me, threw his sword at me and said: "Kill that officer, and we will capture that command." One of my men, however, picked him off, and we were able to get out of the railroad cut after a severe struggle. The following extract from the report of Col. Rufus R. Dawes, commanding the Sixth Wisconsin Regiment, will show the loss he sustained in that short time, and, strange to say, he and Maj. Pye had the same conversation as Maj: Blair and myself about the successful charge: "I was not aware of the existence of the railroad cut, and at first mistook the maneuver of the enemy for retreat, but was undeceived by the heavy fire which they at once began to pour upon us from their cover in the cut. Capt. John Ticknor, always a dashing leader, fell dead while climbing the second fence, and many were struck on the fences, but the line pushed on. When over the fences and in the field, and subjected to an infernal fire, I first saw the Ninety-Fifth New York Regiment coming gallantly into line upon our left. I did not then know or care where they came from, but was rejoiced to see them. Farther to the left was the Fourteenth Brooklyn Regiment, but I was then ignorant of the fact. Maj. Edward Pye appeared to be in command of the Ninety-Fifth New York. Running to the Major, I said: 'We must charge.' The gallant Major replied: 'Charge it is.' 'Forward, charge!' was the order I gave, and Maj. Pye gave the same command. We were receiving a fearfully destructive fire from the hidden enemy. Men who had been shot were leaving the ranks in crowds. With the colors at the advance point, die regiment firmly and hurriedly moved forward, while the whole field behind streamed with men who had been shot, and who were struggling to the rear or sinking in death upon the ground. The only commands I gave as we advanced were, 'Align on the colors! Close up on the colors! Close up on the colors!' The regiment was being so broken up that this order alone could hold the body together. Meanwhile the colors fell upon the ground several times, but were raised again by the-heroes of the color guard. Four hundred and twenty men started in the regiment from the "turnpike fence, of whom about two hundred and forty reached the railroad cut. Years afterwards I found the distance passed over to be one hundred and seventy-five paces." The Federals did not advance beyond the railroad cut, and our new alignment being complete, there was a comparative lull in the fighting until Ewell's Corps, coming in on our left, formed a junction with us. The fighting was then resumed and kept up during the whole afternoon, resulting in the complete defeat of the First and Eleventh Corps of the Federal army, and our capturing four thousand or five thousand prisoners. During the night both sides were occupied in bringing up reenforcements. Gen. Pendleton, commanding the artillery, told me in Galveston since the war that on the morning of the second day he was on the advance line and sent courier after courier back to Gen. Lee, with information as to the Federal troops coming up, and urging immediate attack on our part. He says Gen. Lee gave these orders, but for some reason they were not carried out. So the morning of the ad of July passed, the Confederates occupying Seminary Ridge and the Federals Cemetery Ridge. In the afternoon heavy fighting, at different points without much connection, continued all along the line from Culp's Hill to Little Round Top. Bergen. Lee stated the result: "We attempted to dislodge the enemy, and gained some ground. We were unable to get possession of their position." Gen. Meade's report to Gen. Halleck that night said: "The enemy attacked me about 4 P.M. this day, and after one of the fiercest contests Of the war, was repulsed at all points. We have suffered considerably in killed and wounded." In the fourth volume of Rhodes's 'History of the United States," just published, he states: "The feeling among the officers in Meade's Camp that night was one of gloom. On the first day of the battle the First and Eleventh Corps had almost been annihilated. On the second day the Fifth and part of the Second had been shattered, and the Third, in the language of its commander, who succeeded Sickles, was used up and not in a condition to fight. The loss of the army had been twenty thousand men; only the Sixth and Twelfth Corps were fresh." The morning of July 3 opened with an attack on the right of the Federal line, and then there was a lull until about I o'clock, when the artillery duel began, in which over two hundred cannon participated, and, as a celebrated general said, "it was a terrific and appalling cannoniade." The lines of battle were about a mile apart, and the infantry felt that they would have to charge across that space. You have doubtless read of the famous charge in which fifteen thousand men from Longstreet's and Hill's Corps marched steadily and coolly against the storm of canister shot, shell, and the enemy's bullets, and in the final assault remember the words of the immortal Armstead as he leaped the stone wall, waved his sword with his hat on it, and said, "Give them the cold steel, boys!" before he fell, mortally wounded. Gen. Hancock, who was said to be the best tactician of the Federal army, was in command at that immediate point, and in his report to Gen. Meade said: "I have never seen a more formidable attack. The enemy must be short of ammunition, as I was shot with a tenpenny nail." And here I will state that my regiment, though it had suffered severely from the two days' fighting, was in the final charge, and three members of it- namely, Capt. Whitehead, Lieut. Falls, and Sergt. Whittlesey reached the extreme point of the Confederate advance on that fatal day. Capt. Whitehead was killed by a shell from our own batteries striking him in the breast, butt the other two are still living. A few years ago Lieut. Falls and Sergt. Whittlesey visited the battlefield with Maj. W. M. Robbins, of the Commission, and located the exact sport which they reached, which is about eighty yards to the left and beyond the point There Armstead fell. By a strange coincidence on that very day some survivors of the Federal regiment stationed at that point on July 3 were visiting the battlefield, and confirmed the statements of Lieut. Falls and Sergt. Whittlesey, stating that they saw the three men, and pointing out the spot where Capt. Whitethead fell. With this evidence, which was conclusive, the Commission has placed three stakes to mark the point, and to the Fifty-Fifth North Carolina Regiment belongs the credit not only of having opened the-fight on the first day, but of having reached the farthest point of advance on the last. After the repulse of the charge those who could fell back to our original line on Seminary Ridge. Client. Col. Freemantle, an English officer, in his diary says:"Gen. Lee rode up to encourage and rally his troops, and said to me, "This has been a sad day for us, Colonel---a sad day; but we cannot always expect to gain victories."' An officer reported the state of his brigade, and Gen. Lee immediately shook hands with him and said, 'Never mind, General, all this has been my fault; it is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it the best you can.' However, after the war Gen. Lee declared, 'Had I Stonewall Jackson at Gettysburg, I would have won a great victory."' The respective forces engaged in this battle were: Confederate, 70,000; Federal, 93,000. The losses, according to the official returns published in the "Century War Book," were: Confederate, killed, wounded, captured, and missing, 20,451: Federal killed, wounded, captured, and missing, 23,003. Twenty-five years after the battle I visited the field at the request of Col. Bacheler and Maj. W. M. Robbins, of the Commission. Col. Bacheler was a graduate of West Point. In the summer of 1863 he went to Gettysburg and had spent a greats deal of time in getting up statistics relative to the three days' battle. He told me that the did not know of any other battlefield that afforded so much food for thought and study to a military man as the battlefield of Gettysburg. We devoted two days to visiting all parts of the field. On the morning of the first day we started where my regiment first filed off to the left of the Cashtown road and formed its line of battle. We then walked over the ground where Cutler's Brigade was shattered to the fatal railroad cut and went over all the details of that fierce struggle, and then took up the line where Ewell joined us and where the battle raged so fiercely all the day, finally winding up in Gettysburg, where Gen. Lee had his headquarters on the night of July 1. The following morning bright and early we drove out to the extreme left of the Confederate line, and looked over the ground fought over on the afternoon of that day, from Culp's Hill to Gettysburg. After dinner we followed the line of the extreme Confederate right and heard Maj. Robbins's description of the gallant action of Hood's Division at Little Round Top. Finally we walked over the ground of the charge of the last day, and on reaching that point we found a large bronze book containing the names of all the regiments and brigades participating in that dreadful contest. How peaceful this was, compared to the same time so many years ago! That night at supper, after having discussed so many details of the battle, I said to Maj. Robbins: "What are your conclusions after your investigations?" He said: "We were very near victory several times, but I have concluded that God Almighty did not intend it." Within the past few days I have received a letter from the gallant Major, who since the war has been a member of Congress from North Carolina, and is now a member of the Commission. As it gives the latest information concerning what is being done at Gettysburg, I will, in conclusion, read you his letter: STATESVILLE, N. C., January 10, 1900. "To Col. A. H. Belo. "My Dear Colonel: Your favor of the 3d inst. is just received-forwarded from Gettysburg to my home here, where I am on a visit. In midwinter we can do little outdoor work on the battlefield, and office work, such a preparing inscriptions, etc., with the war records before me, can be as well done here. "We have not yet published any map of the Gettysburg Park and battlefield. We have been much delayed in our work by the difficulty of procuring for the government, from some of the land owners, the title of lands ern~bracing very important parts of the battlefield, having been compelled to resort to condemnation proceedings in the courts, wherein every possible quibble is interjected in order to spin out the cases and swindle Uncle Sam. The Georgians and Tennesseeans freely donate the lands needed for avenues, etc., at Chickamauga and Chattanooga, so Gen. Boynton informs us, but we are far from finding it so at Gettysburg. "The lines and positions of the Union volunteers have nearly all been marked by the States of the North. The main purpose of the United States Government in takeing-charge of this field was to have the same thing done for the Confederates and the Union regulars, and also to have commodious roads and avenues constructed, so as to make all part of the field easily accessible. We are making good progress with this work, but have not yet feat prepared to publish any official map of the field or history of the great conflict that made it memorable. We have in course of preparation a map showing it fully down to the smallest details and with all possible accuracy. "You express a wish to have an account of my personal experiences on the battlefield, etc. Well, all old soldiers, I believe, are fond of fighting their battles over again, but I should prefer to do so by word of mouth, if only I could have the greats pleasure of being with you face to face. I enjoyed very much flour visit to Gettysburg, and should be delighted to have you come again and go over the field with me. You would find many improvements made since you were here excellent Telford avenues along battle lines, one running right along where your Mississippi and North Carolina boys encountered and beat Cutler's New York and Pennsylvania brigade; many memorial tablets, showing the positions and recounting in brief and terse terms the movements and achievements of Confederate commands in the battle; a great many guns mounted on iron gun carriages, showing the positions of Confederate batteries, the guns being of the same class and caliber as those of which the respective batteries were composed; five iron towers, seventy-five feet high-one at the northwest corner of the field, overlooking the ground where you fought, one on the Confederate line toward its right flank, one on Culp's Hill, one on Big Round Top, and in the center of the field, near where the final assault of the third day was so gallantly made and so tragically ended. Do come and see us again and let me show you over the field, and bring with you some of those heroic Texans of Robertson's Brigade, by whose side we Alabamians fought against Round Top and Devil's Den. We whipped the devil in his den, but Round Top ran up too much toward heaven, and we didn't seem to make quite as good progress in that direction. "As to my own part in the battle, I was acting major of the Fourth Alabama Regiment of Laws's Brigade, Hood's Division. On the fist day of July the rest of the division marched to the vicinity of Gettysburg, but our brigade was left on outpost duty at New Guilford, in Franklin County, twenty-five miles from Gettysburg. At 3 A.M. July we were informed that a battle was raging there, and were ordered to hasten to it on a forced march. We joined our division there, formed battle line on the extreme right of the Confederate army at 4 P.M. one mile west of Round Top, and were ordered forward at once to attack that strong position. Two of our regiments-the Forty-Fourth and Forty-Eight Alabama-were obliqued to their left and assisted the First Texas and Third Arkansas in capturing Devil's Den and the adjacent rocky ridge. The other three regiments (Fourth, Fifteenth, and Forty-Seventh Alabama), together with the Fourth and Fifth Texas, moved against Little Round Top. I have always believed we would have taken it if we had not been so fagged out by our long, forced march on that broiling July day, and, moreover, we had to climb over the steep and ragged spur of Big Round Top before reaching the foot of Little Round Top, on the summit of which was the enemy's main line. When we arrived there many of our poor fellows were fainting and falling, overcome with heat and weariness, and in spite of exhortations from their officers, the men in line felt that they must lie down and rest awhile before making that second climb and storming the enemy's position on the crest. Thus our line stopped its advance, lay down among the rocks and boulders, and simply returned the fire of the enemy. Momentum was gone, and though they kept up the conflict till nightfall, they never went much beyond the point reached in their first effort. You know about where that was, for I showed you the bowlder near which I stood, at the right flank of the Fourth Alabama, while the leaden hailstorm poured down upon us and filled my eyes with grit and gravel knocked off the big rocks about me. "Fate was against us there. If the attack on Little Round Top had been made twenty minutes earlier, it would have been taken without opposition. I spent two hours last summer with ex-Gov. Chamberlain, of Maine, going over the ground of our fight there at Little Round Top. He commanded the Twentieth Maine Regiment of Vincent's Brigade in that fight, and the: position of his regiment was partly in front of the Fourth Alabama. He and I remembered the conflict and its various features and incidents precisely alike, and the point where he himself stood in the heat of the battle is about fifty yards only from my own position. He assured me that his regiment and its brigade had not been there more than fifteen minutes before our fire opened, and if our attack had been made twenty minutes earlier we should have found Little Round Top undefended. Any one can see now that this little mountain, on the extreme left of the Union line, was the key of the battlefield, and if the Confederates had seized it and dragged some of coheir artillery up there, as they easily could have done, they would have enfiladed Meade's entire line, and made it too unhealthy for him to remain there; but it was not so decreed by the All-Wise. "We Alabamians and our Texas comrades lay on the western slope of Big Round Top all day July 3, and the breastwork of stone which the boys with their own hands threw up there is standing yet just as they left it. You may know it makes an "old Rob" like me feel his heart swell and his eyes moisten somewhat as he walks about there now and then all alone. We were idle all that last day, except some encounters with the Federal cavalry hanging on the right flank of our army. Gen. Farnsworth, with some regiments, broke through the picket line and galloped up into Plum Run Valley in our rear that afternoon. The Fourth and Fifteenth Alabama were ordered to face about and charge down the lower slopes of Big Round Top to repel this Calvary, which we did without difficulty in a few minutes. A volley was fired which killed Gen. Farnsworth's horse and brought him down mortally wounded, and as a squad of Alabamians approached him he pulled a pistol and fired it into his own bosom, killing himself instantly. It is known that he had an altercation with Kilpatrick immediately before that charge, in which he urged its futility, and that-Kilpatrick spoke to him offensively, saying that if he (Farnsworth) did not wish to lead it he would lead it himself or find some officer who would, whereupon Farnsworth, with an indignant remark, dashed away at the head of his cavalry, and it has been suggested that the sting of Kilpatrick's remarks may have prompted that final act of suicide. But, as he had five desperate wounds in the breast, it is probable that the agony he suffered from them made him seek immediate death as a relief. As this suicidal act of Gen. Farnsworth has been disputed by some, I deem it proper to say that, while I did not see it myself, I was informed of it in less than an hour afterwards by Lieut. Adrain, of the Fifteenth Alabama, and other men of the highest character who said they did see it, and who had no possible motive to fabricate such a story if it were false. "You know we all resumed our original battle line on Friday night, July 3, and lay there all day Saturday, the 4th, waiting for Meade to attack us and give us a chance to pay him back in the same coin which he had dealt to us-to wit, a repulse. He had stood all the while on the defensive in a position well-nigh impregnable and with superior numbers, while all the assaults were made by the Confederates. We wished to turn the board around and try the game that way, but Meade ignored our challenge. Therefore, on Sunday morning, July 5, we turned toward Virginia and after another banter of several days at Hagerstown which we did not accept, we crossed on the pontoon at Falling Waters on July 14, and the Pennsylvania campaign was ended." Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 5 Nashville, Tenn., May, 1900. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VIVID HISTORY OF OUR BATTLE FLAG Gen. W. L. Cabell, now of Dallas, Texas When the Confederate army, commanded by Gen. Beauregard, at Manassas and the Federal army confronted each other it was seen that the Confederate flag (stars and bars) and the stars and stripes at a distance looked so much alike that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Gen. Beauregard, thinking that serious mistakes might be made in recognizing our troops, after the battle of July 18 at Blackburn Ford ordered that a small red badge should be worn on the left shoulder by our troops, and, as I was chief quartermaster, ordered me to purchase a large amount of red flannel and to distribute a supply to each regiment. I did so, and a number of regiments placed badges on their left shoulder. During the battle of Bull Run it was discovered that a great number of Federal soldiers were wearing a similar red badge. I saw these badges on a number of prisoners we captured that day. Gens. Johnston and Beauregard met at Fairfax C. M. in the latter part of August or early September, and determined to have a battle flag for every regiment or detached command that could easily be recognized and easily carried. I was telegraphed to go to them at once at Fairfax C. H. Both Gen. Beauregard and Gen. Johnston were in Beauregard's office discussing the kind of flag that should be adopted. Gen. Johnston's design was in the shape of an ellipse, red flag with a blue St. Andrew's cross, white stars on the cross to represent the different Southern States. No white border of any kind was attached to this cross. Gen. Beauregard's design was a rectangle, red with blue St. Andrew's cross and white stars similar to Gen. Johnston's. Both were thoroughly examined by all of us. After we had fully discussed the two styles taking into consideration the cost of material and the care of making the same, it was decided that the elliptical flag would be harder to make, that it would take more cloth, and that it could not be seen as plain at a distance as the rectangular flag drawn and suggested by Gen. Beauregard, so the latter was adopted. Gen. Johnston yielded promptly to the reasons given by Gen. Beauregard and myself. No one was present but us three. No one knew about this flag but us until an order was issued adopting the "Beauregard flag," as it was called. He directed me, as chief quartermaster, to have the flags made as soon as it could be done. I immediately issued an address to the good ladies of the South to give me their red and blue silk dresses and to send them to Capt. Collin McRae Selph, quartermaster at Richmond, Va. where he was assisted by two elegant young ladies-the two Misses Carey, of Baltimore--- Mrs. Gen. Henningsen, of Savannah, and Mrs. Judge Hopkins, of Alabama. The Misses Carey made battle flags for Gens. Beauregard, Van Dorn, and (I think) J. E. Johnston. They made Gen. Beauregard's headquarters flag out of their own silk dresses. It is in Memorial Hall, New Orleans, with a statement of its history by Gen. Beauregard. Gen. Van Dorn's flag was made of heavier material, but was very pretty. Capt. Selph had a number of these flags made and sent to me at Manassas, and they were distributed by order of Gen. Beauregard. One flag I had made for the Washington Artillery, and they- have it yet. My wife, who was in Richmond, made a beautiful flag out of her own silk dress and sent it to a cousin of hers who commanded an Arkansas regiment. This flag was lost at Elk Horn, but was recaptured by a Missouri Division under Gen. Henry Little. It being impossible to get silk enough to make the great number of flags needed, I had a number made out of blue and red cotton cloth. I then issued a circular letter to the quartermasters of every regiment and brigade in the army to make the flags, and to use any blue and red cloth suitable that they could get. Gens. Beauregard and Johnston being good draftsmen, drew their own designs. The statements going the rounds that this battle flag was first designed by a Federal prisoner is false. There is no truth in it. No living soul except Gens. Beauregard and Johnston and myself knew anything about this flag until the order was issued direct to me to have them made as soon as it could be done. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 6 Nashville, Tenn., June, 1900. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- UNITED SONS OF CONFEDERATE VETERANS Biscoe Hindman, Commander in Chief, issues General Order No. l. in which he states: It is with a feeling of deep responsibility that I hereby assume command of the United Sons of Confederate Veterans. When I think of the high objects of our Confederation; of our duty in perpetuating the proud records of our soldier fathers and of their gray-clad comrades whom we love so well; of our devotion to the sweet memories of our mothers, and of all those Spartan women of the South, who must share the honors with the old heroes themselves; and last, and above all else, of our everlasting pride in the power of our nation and eternal love for our country and our flag the feeling of responsibility becomes likened to one of consecration. We have seen after many years the flower of respect between the sections deepen into one of esteem, and finally blossom into the strength and fullness of brotherly love and national patriotism. And we have come to know that among all the starry gems set in the azure field of "Old Glory," none sparkle with purer patriotism or greater brilliancy than those of the Sunny South. Under that flag many of you first saw the light of day and the strength and glory of our great republic. We place it above wealth and preferment, we love it better than life itself. Our love for it began in the cradle and will end only in the grave. There was a time when our Union was shaken with the shock of contending armies and bathed in the blood of our best and bravest men. But that time has long since passed away, and the few remaining scars of conflict disappeared forever within the nation's defenders, young soldiers and old veterans alike, from all over her broad lands, marched shoulder to shoulder to drive the Spanish tyrant from the Western Hemisphere, and to raise the flag of freedom over an oppressed and down-trodden people. But you and I, who were strangers to the great conflict between the States, are no better patriots, no truer defenders of the Union to-day, than the fast decreasing gray army which meets once a year in the sweet comradeship of the olden time. Our fathers fought for State rights, local self-government, separate nationality, and constitutional liberty and no people ever maintained a grander or more glorious struggle. But their Confederation failed, and they accepted the arbitrament of the sword and turned with strong hearts to their desolated and impoverished homes, to take up anew the struggle of life, with the same magnificent courage which they had shown on the battlefield, and which had won for them the admiration of the brave soldiers of the Union and the plaudits of all enlightened nations. The passing of the war-begrimed remnants of the gray-clad army from the red carnage of the battlefield, from the scenes of glorious victories and terribly contested defeats to build up the ruins of their fortunes and their homes, to associate with manumitted slaves whose ignorance made them the pliant tools of unscrupulous adventurers that always follow in the train of a victorious army presented a problem before which the bravest and stanchest souls might well have trembled. But these Confederate soldiers were equal to that problem. They had been heroes in battle; they now became heroes in peace. They had been undaunted on the field, but they became grander in their citizenship. With unfaltering steps and superb manhood, and with a courage and a patience beyond the imagination of the human mind, they laid aside their honored gray uniforms to put on the quiet clothing of the citizen, and have served their country and their God with a sublimity that shines resplendent above the fame of war, and stands unsurpassed in all the history of the world. OUR DUTY TO THE CONFEDERATE SOLDIER. What supported these men, I ask you, under the great burdens laid upon them? I can hear your answer as it comes swiftly on, "The consciousness of having done their duty." Are we their sons? And shall we not do our duty to their names by rearing monuments to their memories, and establishing in history the plain truth of their proud achievements and imperishable renown? Is it not our obligation and our duty to erect a suitable memorial to the immortal women of the South, to aid in maintaining and establishing soldiers' homes, and to urge all reasonable legislation in the Southern States for these ends and for granting pensions to needy or disabled veterans of the brave army so fast fading away? I speak for you, my comrades, when I say to the old heroes: "We could not escape these responsibilities if we could, and we would not escape them if we could. You knew how to meet cold steel and leaden hail, and you knew how to die! In every station where you have been placed you have sustained yourselves with conspicuous honor. You have endowed us with the proud heritage of your soldier names, and the debt which we owe you is so full of tenderness and love that we shall endeavor to pay it over and over again. You have nobly done your part and are entitled to call on the corporal of the guard for relief. We will grasp you by the hands and take you to our hearts." Among the most loyal of the nation's defenders are the leaders of the South, who voice the sentiments of their whole people. Our Joe Wheeler and our Fitzhugh Lee have lived to serve both the South and the Union, and have served both causes well, and they now wear the uniforms of generals in the army of the United States. Truly we now have "One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, one nation evermore." Commander in Chief Biscoe Hindman also issues Circular Letter No. 1 to the United Sons of C. V.: My Comrades: We have two committees which I wish to indelibly impress upon you and for which I beg your most thoughtful, earnest, and loyal support: the "Historical Committee" and the "Woman's Memorial Committee." These are of tremendous significance to every true Son and Daughter, and to every battle scarred hero of the South. They are in the keeping of committees of loyal Sons who, I hope, like their chairman, have become imbued with the intensity of love for their work and the fire of enthusiasm for its success. Department Commander James Mann, of Nottoway Va., is Chairman of the Women's Memorial Committee. He writes me that he will give as much time and attention to the work of his committee and his department as he can possibly spare from his private affairs and says that "the Confederation has put its hand to this work, and our standing as an organization, our very life, is dependant upon its successful consummation. That is the work of our organization, and we must show that we are in earnest. We have gathered together on five different occasions and solemnly passed various resolutions, elected our officers, attended the reunion ball, and have then gone home to wait for another reunion: but as an organization we have accomplished practically nothing. Now we have taken upon ourselves the erecting of this memorial. The object could not be more worthy. and we must accomplish results that are in some degree commensurate with its importance. I hope that every camp, both collectively and individually, will send a contribution no matter how small, in order that every member may have a personal interest in the memorial which we shall rear to the memories of our Southern women. The chairman of our Historical Committee is Col. William F. Jones, Assistant Adjutant General, of Elberton, Ga. He has been so faithful and so zealous in his work as Chairman of the Historical Committee that he is deserving of special mention from the Commanding General, and I hereby publicly thank him for his loyal and efficient work, and commend him to you as worthy of your heartiest encouragement and warmest gratitude. Col. Jones writes to me that if he can possibly arrange for the support of his family and four little children he will devote his exclusive time and attention to the important work of the Historical Committee, as he has decided to resign the Presidency of the Elberton Institute after twenty years' experience in the schoolroom. He also writes: "Let me tell you in all candor that the hundreds of letters that I have received, and the conversations I have had with people from all parts of the South, all emphasize in thunder tones the immediate necessity of prompt, vigorous and intelligent action on our part. Contrast the number of our camps with the number that have been established by the veterans and by the Daughters of the Confederacy. We should report at least one thousand camps when we meet at Memphis next year; but if things rock along as heretofore, we shall do well to hold what we have. You have a heavy task before you if you do your duty. That you will discharge it faithfully and well, I have no doubt." I shall do my duty, my comrades, and I believe you will do yours. You have had able and loyal Commanding Generals, but has the Confederation supported them as they should have done? Without the strength and support of his men, the commander alone cannot win a battle. I feel that you are awakening to the responsibilities and duties of our organization. Though the suggestion of Col. Jones involves great labor and numerous obstacles, I accept it and say to you, "Let there be one thousand camps reported in good standing and successful operation next year at Memphis." Will you help me to accomplish such a result? Let every comrade who is in hearty accord with us and who will aid in organizing camps at new places and strengthening those already organized, write me a personal letter and assure me of his sympathy and support. I believe that you will do so, and that you will show yourselves in every way worthy of your illustrious lineage and the proud names you bear. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 7 Nashville, Tenn., July, 1900. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SHALL THE HISTORY BE PERPETUATED! Unknown A sensation occurred at the reunion of Confederate and Federal veterans at Atlanta July 20, which is of concern to all patriots. It occurred at the after-dinner speeches in a great banquet hall. Col. W. A. Hemphill, General Chairman of the Reunion Committees, had introduced in turn the Commanders of the two great organizations, the Grand Army of the Republic and the United Confederate Veterans. Commander Shaw delivered a remarkable address prepared with typewritten manuscript. It was in the main of excellent spirit, decidedly the best ever uttered by a Grand Army Commander. He is a pleasing speaker, and showed a patriotic fervor much to his credit. As on previous occasions, however, he made significant statements with which Southern men will never concur. At this time he said: There can be but one idea of American citizenship, one stars and stripes, one bulwark of future national glory, and one line of patriotic teachings for all and by all. In this view the keeping alive of sectional teachings as to the justice and rights of the cause of the South, in the hearts of the children, is all out of order, unwise, unjust, and utterly opposed to the bond by which the great chieftain Lee solemnly bound the cause of the South in his final surrender. I deeply deplore all agencies of this sort, because in honor and in chivalric American manhood and womanhood nothing of this nature should be taught or tolerated for an instant. When he had finished Gen. Gordon was on his feet instantly. His lips were tightly compressed, and his eyes flashed as they seldom do. He stepped from his chair on to the table, where the preceding speakers had stood, and launched at once into an eloquent defense of the men of the South, who had taken up arms against the Union. Referring to Gen. Shaw's words, he said that for one he could not end would not admit nor teach his children that the cause he had fought for was wrong. He believed under God that both sides were right as they interpreted the Constitution. Gen. Gordon spoke as seemed he never did before in a defense of the traditions and principles of the South. He paid fine tribute to the address of Gen. Shawl Referring to the above, however, he said: Whatever may have been my record in the past, whatever may now be my love for the South and her traditions, I claim equal loyalty with Gen. Shaw in his love for the Union and his fidelity to the stars and stripes. When I saw the flag I followed and loved go down at Appomattox my heart would have broken but for my faith in God and his overruling providence. I love this country. I love every acre of it. In these veins runs the blood of the founders of this republic. My forefathers fought and bled for this country's independence, and I believe no man is more ready to serve it in any emergency than myself. I know that my friend, Gen. Shaw, is equally devoted and true. Every sentence of his eloquent tribute to American manhood, and his every sentiment of loyalty to our fathers' flag, finds an echo in my heart. But when he tells me and my Southern comrades that teaching our children that the cause for which we fought and our comrades died is all wrong, I must earnestly protest. In the name of the future manhood of the South I protest. What are we to teach them? If we cannot teach them that their fathers were right, it follows that these Southern children must be taught that they were wrong. Are we ready for that? For one I am not ready! I never will be ready to have my children taught that I was wrong, or that the cause of my people was unjust and unholy. When Gen. Gordon had reached this point, he paused. He could not have continued had he desired to do so. There was one long, continuous yell throughout the large building. Resuming, he said: O, my friends, you were right; but I too was right! We were fighting over principles that we had inherited from our fathers and our fathers' fathers. We were both right, and when we meet in that great beyond we shall both hear: "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." When Alexander Hamilton wrote and Thomas Jefferson wrote, each his construction of the true meaning of the constitution, there was a conflict of opinion utterly irreconcilable. But shall we insist that the children of one or the disciples of the other shall not be taught that he was right? From that day to this the controversy has been waged in conflicting opinions, which Gen. Shaw has inherited on the one side and I on the other, and for these convictions long and devoutly cherished by each, we were both willing to labor, to fight, and to die. The decision made by the arbitrament of war was that slavery should no longer exist, that the right of a State to secede should no more be asserted; that there should be on this continent the one great republic and one flag over all forever. But the question of which side was right in the conflict was not settled. No result on the field of battle can ever settle a question of right, and I can no more consent to deny my children the privilege of believing that their father was right than I can consent to write dishonor in my mother's dust. This little episode is no disturbing element of this reunion. I only rose to state for our men that they were defending principles which they had inherited from their fathers. Who shall say they were wrong? Let us settle this question now and forever. Let us settle it upon a basis consistent with the self-respect and manhood of both sides. Let us settle it upon a basis consistent with the welfare of the great republic. There is a basis on which we can all stand. It is that monumental truth which history will yet record and heaven reveal at last-namely, that both sides were right because both sides were fighting for the constitution of the fathers as they had been taught to interpret it, and both were right. Gen. Shaw's address had much in it that concerns Confederates, which may be expected in the next VETERAN It is unfortunate that it cannot appear now. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 8 Nashville, Tenn., November, 1900. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SENT ON A PERILOUS RIDE THROUGH ENEMY LINES Dr. J. A. Wyeth A few days before the battle of Chickamauga our division of cavalry was moved by a rapid all-night march to the extreme left of the position which Gen. Bragg had first selected for his battle ground. It was tiresome and slow work, for a large body of cavalry stretched along several miles of ordinary country road at night, with here and there a narrow or defective bridge or causeway, cannot move with anything like the rapidity of a daylight march. We were the advance brigade, and I recall the fact that, in order to get as much of the fun and frolic as possible out of an uncomfortable situation, a number of the best voices in the command had been gathered about the center of our regiment and were waking the echoes in the gloomy forests which hemmed us in by singing all the lively war songs then in vogue. About midnight word came down the line from the head of the column to stop the singing, and for the entire column to move in silence. Personally I was not displeased when the order came, for, while many of the war ballads were thrilling, and some few were set to inspiring music, the men in the ranks had learned or improvised a few stanzas which would not have met with the approval of the Westminster Confession. From my point of view at that time, war was a very serious business, and a large proportion of the soldiers in our army had in 1863 passed into an extraordinary condition of mind. In the beginning we thought it would be a grand and exciting, and yet short-lived, adventure, and many under military age hastened into the service for fear it would be over too soon for us to have a hand in the glory of it. That fancy, with many other illusions, had in the clear light of a bitter experience faded from our mental vision. Nearly three years had passed, and the army to which we were attached had, despite the patient toil and suffering and the heroic self-sacrifice of the battlefield, met with so much disaster that it forced upon us the conclusion that our struggle was hopeless, and that if we fought on as we had determined to do death was the inevitable end. It was only a question of time, and we tried to be ready for it. That was my conviction then and until the war was over. Had it not been so, I might not have volunteered to go on the errand which I undertook that night. When the order to move in silence had passed down the line, we knew that we were coming close to the enemy, and the march was continued with the choruses omitted. About three o'clock we were again halted, and some word was started at the head of the column to be carried in a low tone down the line, æas was the custom on midnight marches, since, on account of the darkness and the crowded condition of the roadway, an aid or courier could not get through. The wording of this message gradually grew clearer, and at last was distinctly made out: "A volunteer is wanted at the head of the column who will go where he is sent." It evidently portended some expedition out of the ordinary, and in all likelihood involved more than usual personal risk. If this were not the case, some well-tried man would have been ordered to go upon the duty. When I said to Lieut. Jack Weatherley, of my company, that I would go if they thought I was big enough, he sent word back toward the head of the column that Company I would furnish the man. There was no time to be lost, so I dismounted to readjust my saddle and unstrap my oilcloth, blanket, haversack, and forage bag. These and my gun were left behind. One of the men of our company (Jacob McCain) insisted on placing his surcingle over my saddle for greater security, for fear my own single girth might break if I got into trouble. I carried with me only two articles, my army six-shooter and a small Testament my mother had placed in my jacket pocket when I left for the war. What a strange companionship! A weapon capable of causing such anguish of mind and agony of body, and the Book which taught the gospel of peace and of brotherly love. Lieut. Weatherley, with whom I "messed," and who went by the familiar name of "Jack" when we were off duty, and who, moreover, was as brave a soldier as ever died (for he fell at the head of his company in the hot fray of Big Shanty in 1864), rode with me to head-quarters and reported with his "man." Here at the head of the column there were gathered quite a number of officers and aids, some mounted and some on the ground. It was too dark to recognize features or individuals, hut there was enough light to distinguish the forms of men. The general in command asked me if I was willing to go inside the enemy's lines. I replied that I would go where he directed me, provided I could wear my uniform, but that I did not wish to go as a spy. He then said: "I want you to carry an order to a detachment of cavalry which has been sent around the right of the enemy's lines, and which should be by this time in their rear and about opposite our present position. They have been ordered to attack at daylight, and I want the order countermanded without fail, and the command directed to return to this column by the route which they have already traveled. In order to reach them," he added, "you will proceed upon a road which should bring you in contact with their pickets between one and two miles from this point, and you will probably have to pass through a portion of the enemy's camps. You must ride hard to meet them by daylight, before they can attack." I answered, "All right," and told Jack good-by. As I started, Col. Hambrick, commanding the regiment at that time, and whose voice I recognized, said to me: "This is an important matter; and if you succeed, you can have a furlough for as long as you desire." A guide from headquarters rode with me a few hundred yards on the road I was to travel, and then turned back. By this time it must have been between four and five o'clock. To the normal human being the love of life is so natural and so strong that it is difficult to appreciate, until one has passed into and through it, that strange and unusual mental condition in which the value of existence becomes a minor consideration. Hence our admiration at the calm courage of a Cranmer is scarcely as great as our surprise at its exhibition, or our wonder at the coolness of the criminal who with unfaltering step ascends the scaffold to be strangled. I would not have the reader infer that I felt that there was any such hopelessness in my own situation, for I realized that, no matter how heavy a picket force I might encounter, with a good horse and the cover of darkness I had a fair chance of running through them with safety, and yet I was equally sure that 1 was going to run a very great risk of being shot. Although it transpired that the danger I had voluntarily incurred was greatly overestimated, as was the importance of the mission upon which I had been sent, still I look hack upon this occasion as the one moment when I came nearest to the elimination of every selfish consideration from the motive with which I was then actuated. I sincerely believed that death was preferable to life with failure in accomplishing my errand. As to the course I should pursue, my mind was clear. It was to approach the picket as closely as possible before being halted, and then make my rush. Should they hail me at a distance, the outpost would be aroused and the danger thus enhanced. I did not intend even to fire my pistol, unless in dire extremity, although I had taken it from my belt and had it ready for quick use. I was riding a splendid horse, strong, swift, and mettlesome, and so alert that nothing escaped his quick observation. He was so graceful and smooth of action that as he cantered swiftly along the soft roadway, fetlock deep in sand, scarcely a sound was perceptible. As well as I could estimate, in my excited condition of mind, I had proceeded about one mile and a half, when suddenly I felt my horse check himself up slightly, as if he were about to change his gait. It told me that he had seen something more than the ordinary inanimate object. At the same instant he lifted his head so high, and in such a knowing way, that I was convinced the moment had come and we were on the Federal outposts. Without waiting to be halted, I tightened the reins, and, crouching down on Russell's hack, touched him with the spurs, and he bounded forward like the wind. The clear vision of the horse was not at fault, for as I flew hy I saw two men leap up from the edge of the roadway and jump into the shadows of the woods and undergrowth to my left. I was so intensely excited, expecting every moment the crack of their rifles, and so intent on urging my faithful horse to still greater speed, that no part of the picture which flashed through my mind remains clearly registered excepting the forms of the two men as they leaped into the bushes. They never fired, and it is difficult for me æto understand their failure to do this. It may be that they felt something of the fright I was experiencing, but more than likely they were drowsy or asleep, and the sandy road enabled me to approach them so close without being heard (for in the darkness they could not have seen farther than about twenty feet) that they were taken by surprise, and I had passed them. Perhaps they had orders not to fire, and it may be they were not Federal pickets. In any event, in less time than it takes to write it, I had scurried away beyond their vision and out of the range of their guns. Certain it is I saw no other living thing at that time. If, as I had been made to believe, the Federals were in bivouac on either side of the road along which I was riding at such a rapid gait, I saw no signs of them, and they were not there later in the day, for our troops occupied that position. I cannot now even estimate how far I went at the speed I was making---probably a mile, or maybe more. I know I had slowed up and was riding again at a canter when daylight began to break, and with it I noticed a cloud of dust not more than half a mile in front of me. This told me of the cavalry that was moving along that road, and in a minute or two more I had met the column that I was sent to intercept, delivered my message, and felt extremely happy. I remember distinctly the pride I felt when a day or two after I was thanked for the success of the enterprise. They offered me the furlough, and it was a great temptation, for I was only two hard days riding from home and my mother; but the concentration of so many troops told me that a big battle was impending---for even the private in the ranks learned to know this much---and I did not think it was right for me to be away when this came on. Within a week the bloody battle of Chickamauga h.ad been fought, and we had won it. I lost my furlough, but I counted it small loss as compared to the privilege of having taken even an insignificant part in that heroic and bloody battle, one of the few great signal triumphs of the Army of Tennessee. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., January, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SECESSION SPIRIT (1861) IN ILLINOIS Judge J. M Dickinson Judge J. M Dickinson, a Tennessean, but now residing in Chicago, refers to some interesting history set forth in Erwin's "History of Williamson County, Ill." Some extracts are as follows, beginning on page 257: But among the old liners a strong sympathy for the South was felt. By the 1st of April, 1861, the parties were nearly equally divided, and excitement was running very high. Our leading men were in trouble, and some were noisy and clamorous for Southern rights. In a few days after the inauguration, Peter Keifer made a speech in the courthouse, in which lie said, "Our country must be saved;" but it was understood that "our country" meant the South, by the motion of his hand. Sympathy for "our Southern brethren" became stronger and stronger every day. Propositions for organizing the people into companies and regiments were made. Secession was openly talked of until the 9th day of April, 1861, when it began to take shape. It was just after the fall of Fort Sumter that a party of ten or fifteen men got together in a saloon, in Marion, and agreed to call a public meeting to pass ordinances of secession. They appointed a Committee on Resolutions, who were to report at the public meeting. The call was made for a meeting to be held in the courthouse on Monday, April 15, 1861, to provide for the "public safety." A large crowd came in, and the meeting was called to order, and James D. Manier elected President. He then appointed G. W. Goddard, James M. Washburn, Henry C. Hopper, John M. Cunningham, and William R. Scurlock a comÆmittee to draft resolutions of secession. The saloon committee had the resolutions already prepared, and they were reported and passed with but one dissenting voice, and that was A. T. Benson, and were as follows: "Resolved: 1. That we, the citizens of Williamson County, firmly believing, from the distracted condition of our county---the same being brought about by the elevation to power of a strictly sectional party---the coercive policy of which toward the seceded States will drive all the border slave States from the Federal Union, and cause them to join the Southern Confederacy. "2. That, in such event, the interest of the citizens of Southern Illinois imperatively demands at their hands a division of the State. We æhereby pledge ourselves to use all means in our power to effect the same, and attach ourselves to the Southern Confederacy. "3. That, in our opinion, it is the duty of the present administration to withdraw all the troops of the Federal government that may be stationed in Southern forts, and acknowledge the independence of the Southern Confederacy, believing that such a course would he calculated to restore peace and harmony to our distracted country. "4. That in view of the fact that it is probable that the present Governor of the State of Illinois will call upon the citizens of the same to take up arms for the purpose of subjecting the people of the South, we hereby enter our protest against such a course, and, as loyal citizens, will refuse, frown down, and forever oppose the same." These resolutions were written by Henry C. Hopper. The news of this meeting spread rapidly, and by the next morning it had reached Carbondale, and had been telegraphed to Gen. Prentiss, at Cairo. The people of Carbondale, seeing the trouble our people were bringing themselves, sent J. M. Campbell up to Marion on the i6th of April to tell the people to revoke the resolutions. He said they must be repealed, or war would be brought on our own soil and at our own doors. The people were excited badly. A meeting was called to repeal the resolutions, and to meet instanter, but not by the same men who were in the meeting of the 15th. W. J. Allen was called in to address the meeting, which he did at some length. He said that he was for repealing the resolutions, and that others could do as they pleased, but as for him and his house, they would stand still and see the salvation of the Lord. The resolutions were repealed, and A. T. Benson appointed as a committee of one to convey a copy of the proceedings to Gen. Prentiss. When he arrived at Cairo he found Gen. Prentiss reading the resolutions. He gave him a copy of the proceedings of the meeting of the 16th, and Prentiss said: "I am glad to see them. The resolutions of secession would have caused your folks trouble; but now I hope all will be right." Those men who held the meeting of the 15th contended that the meeting of the 16th had no right to repeal the resolutions, and that they were not repealed, and that the people must organize. So a meeting. was called for the 27th of April, pursuant to the one of the 15th. The meeting was called to order, and a motion made to"seize the money in the hands of the sheriff to defray the expenses of arming and equipping soldiers for the Southern Army." The fever for organizing into military companies had cooled-off. so that this motion was lost, and the meeting broke up in a row. Gen. Prentiss had dropped off a company of men at Big Muddy bridge as he was going to Cairo. This was intolerable to our people. The whole country was in a flame. Thorndike Brooks and Harvey Hays raised the whoop in Marion; runners were sent all over the country to tell the people to come into town next morning wit 11 their guns. Next morning a great many people came into town with guns, anxious to know what was wanted with them, when they were told that "the men at the bridge must be whipped away." Most of them turned and went home. Some objected, and said they had no guns, and that the soldiers had good guns: but some few went on to Carbondale. and others tried to get them not to go. At Carbondale they found a noisy crowd assembled for the same purpose. Soon after they met they sent Isaiah Harris up to the bridge, which was four miles north of Carbondale, to spy around. When lie got in sight of the soldiers he saw a cannon, and returned and told them that they could not whip the soldiers. News of these proceedings having reached Gen. Prentiss, at Cairo, an hour before, he sent up another compamy, with more cannon. The train stopped at Carbondale, when the crowd was at its highest and most clam3rous condition. After staying there awhile, she pulled on up to the bridge. At this crisis Gov. Dougherty, W. Tiecker, of Cairo, and Gen. I. N. Hannie, made speeches to the people, and told them to stand by the Union. Gov. Dougherty said that "the speeches and guns persuaded the people not to attack the bridge." The people of Marion were standing listening for a bloody battle, but they were disappointed. A few straggling crowds came back from Carbondahe, cursing and frothing like wild men. William Cram swore that he could have taken his boys and cleaned out the soldiers, and Brooks and Wheeler called the people cowards and slaves. On the 24th day of May, 1861, Col. Brooks and Harvey Hayes, despairing of raising an army here, or organizing the .county, formed the design of raising a company and going South. They sent a man to Carbondale to recruit, and they commenced at home. By the next evening they had about thirty names on their list, and had given orders for them to rendezvous at the "Delaware Crossing," on the Saline, six miles south of Marion. They all got to the place about two hours by sun on the 25th day of May, 1861, and the few that came from Carbondale swelled the number to thirty or thirty-five men, mostly under the age of twenty-three years. They started on to Paducah on foot, and walked all night; and next day in the afternoon Robert Kelly went on to Linn's Hotel to have supper prepared for the boys. Their number had now increased to about forty men. Their feet became sore, and all of them laggud behind but six, who went on to get supper, where they were surrounded by one hundred and thirty-five home guards and taken prisoners. A friend to the boys got on his horse, knowing that they were coming into the same trap, and went tip the road to let them know. The home guards left a guard with the six boys and came on up the road to meet the others from Marion, but when they came to the forks of the road, north of Linn's Hotel, supposing the boys had taken the one leading to Brooklyn, started down to the river. The boys went on until they came to the forks of the road, and, seeing by the tracks that the guards had gone the left-hand, they went on rapidly to Linn's Hotel, where they recaptured their six companions, and went on to the river opposite Paducah. Here Kelly had prepared a ferryboat for them, but it had laid there twenty-four hours and the boilers had cooled off. They were in a critical condition; but just then they saw a steamboat, the Old Kentucky, rounding up to Paducah out of the mouth of the Tennessee. and pretty soon she was heading across the Ohio. They hoarded her, and crossed over. They went to Mayfield, Ky.. and joined Company G, One Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Regiment of Tennessee Volunteers, and were in Gen. Cheatham's command. At the close of the war about half of them returned home. Brooks got to be a lieutenant colonel, and is now a wealthy merchant in Baltimore, Md. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., January, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EVENTS OF THE SIXTIES. BY YOUNG "MISTISS" Unknown A short time since, there appeared in the VETERAN a brief sketch of the faithfulness of "Uncle Ned Hawkins" to his old mistress, so I thought perhaps readers might be interested in hearing of some of the trials through which his old mistress was called to pass during the war of the sixties. On the 31st of December, 1862, her old home, standing on the banks of the beautiful Rappahannock, Culpeper County, Va., occupied by herself and an older sister, was fired upon by the vandals in blue, and she was painfully wounded, and lay upon a bed of suffering for weeks. Her sister was greatly alarmed, and asked aid of a surgeon from among the enemy. Mother was in quite a critical condition, yet she told the surgeon she preferred death to his touching her. While on crutches she would tell them of their many, many mean deeds and cruelties to Southern people. She, with the exception of a sister in East Tennessee, is the last of a once large and influential family, whose forefathers owned their old homestead for more than a century. Her only brother was hunted like a wild beast, and driven from his comfortable home to find shelter in our glorious Rebel army. He was too old to enter the service. I shall never forget how a number of yankee soldiers dashed up, pistols in hand, and surrounded the house to capture "one old feeble man." Two of them, claiming to be officers, came up to the door and inquired for my father. When told by my poor, weeping mother that he was not there, such oaths followed as I scarcely ever heard. They said if they found him they would hang him to a large oak standing just in front of our dear old home---long since in ashes. Then number two said: "No, we will scalp his damned old bald head just here at the door." They said they had orders to search the house, and, with pistols in hand, sabers clanking, spurs rattling, said mother must accompany them, pretending to be so scrupulously honest, while at the same time those out of doors were in every place, breaking every lock, and carrying off all they found, whether of use to them or not. I can see my dear old mother now ascending the stairs with trembling limbs and tearful eyes, followed by Mary, the faithful house servant, who was ever true to her mistress in time of trouble. These are only a few trials borne by our family. We were deprived of every comfort, and at times scarcely had the necessaries of life. Then poor mother would ask them not to leave us to starve, that she could not communicate with her friends. Their reply was: "We are acting upon Pope's orders." That was truly their mode of warfare, waged against old men, helpless women and children. Some wish to bury the past. I should like to attend a reunion of thorough Confederates, hut if one single bluecoat is to be there, I prefer to stay away. When the green grass waves over my grave, just as it does now over my dear old father's and mother's, and my children stand by and view mine as I do theirs, they can say, as I can, she never forgot how they were treated by the Yankees. But there is a comfort in knowing that God is just, and all will be well some day. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., February, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TRANS-MISSISSIPPI DEPARTMENT Gen. W. L. Cabell In his annual address to "Comrades of the Trans-Mississippi Department" Gen. W. L. Cabell, under date of Dallas, Tex., February 1, 1901, says: It is with feelings of the greatest pleasure as well as pride that I can greet you at the end of another year and at the close of the century. A kind providence has extended its sheltering wings over our great Southland; over our gray-haired veterans; over the noble women of the South who suffered so much during the war, their noble sons and fair daughters; as well as our grand Association. The adjutant general reports one thousand three hundred and eight camps. The Trans-Mississippi Department have out of this number five hundred camps, and growing in number as our old comrades are realizing the importance of enrolling and keeping in touch with each other as they grow older. It is true that a number of our bravest and best comrades have died during the year, yet the death roll has not been greater than we should have expected. The dead have been properly cared for, and in a number of instances our noble women have had their names engraved on marble headstones. The living Confederates who have grown old and incapacitated by wounds, sickness, and old age have been properly cared for in the different States and Territories of the Trans-Mississippi Department. They have good soldiers home's, and are amply provided with good raiment and shelter where they can spend their last days in quiet and peace by the great States of Texas, Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana. I therefore urge you, my old comrades, to continue the good work. I appeal to you, noble sons and fair daughters of the bravest men and grandest women that ever lived in any country, to continue to organize Camps and Chapters, and be ready to take our places when we have all crossed over the river. Apply at once to Gen. Moorman, Adjutant General United Confederate Veterans, New Orleans, La. Let the Trans-Mississippi Department send a larger delegation to the reunion to be held at Memphis, Tenn., on the 28th, 29, and 30th of May, than any other department. Let every camp be represented by as large a delegation as possible. Let them be fully authorized to represent their camp in all matters. When delegates cannot attend, let the camp send proxies to some comrade properly signed by the officers of the camp. In applying for membership, send a roll of your camp to Gen. Moorman, and an initiation fee of $2, and ten cents for each member, by the first of April. The Committee on Transportation, Gens. H. W. Graber, S. P. Mendez, Cols. T. B. Trotman, B. F. Wathen, and L. A. Daffan, have secured rates of one cent per mile each way (going and returning) to Memphis, and local committees can communicate with them. The young men, appreciating the valorous deeds of their fathers, are organizing Camps throughout the South. The noble women of the South. proud of the fact that they are the wives, daughters, and granddaughters of those who wore the gray, are organizing Chapters throughout the Department. Their motto is: "Charity to the living, honor to the dead, and preservation of the truths of history" Every Confederate home is their pride, the cemeteries are under their loving care, and each decoration day finds the graves of all Confederates hidden beneath the flowers of spring. The monument to our great chieftain, Jefferson Davis, has not been built, but the Daughters of the Confederacy throughout the South have obligated themselves to labor unceasingly until the means necessary for its erection is raised. Let the veterans of the Trans-Mississippi Department aid them in this glorious cause, and contribute liberally to this fund, so that we can see this grand monument erected before we answer the "last roll call." Continue to take up subscriptions for this noble purpose. The corner stone for this monument was laid in Richmond, Va., July 2, 1896. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., February, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FAITHFULNESS---A HOSPITAL INCIDENT Rev. Jesse Wood, D. D. - Oxford, Ala. During the forty years of my active ministry I have not met with a better illustration of faithfulness in the discharge of duty than this which came to my knowledge the past year. R. N. Warnock, now a wholesale merchant of Oxford, Ala., was a member of Company D, Thirty-First Alabama Regiment; and E. M. Davis, now a prosperous farmer of Autaugia County, Ala., was a member of Company D, Thirty-Seventh Alabama. Both were captured and paroled at Vicksburg, and subsequently exchanged and reenlisted in time for the battle of lookout Mountain and the long campaign in North Georgia. Before the capture of Atlanta, Warnock had been detailed for hospital duty, and Lieut. Davis had been severely wounded by a shell, and was sent to the hospital near Atlanta, and subsequently removed to Barnesville. Davis's case became very critical, and his young wife, whom he had married during the time of his parole, came to nurse him. Warnock, however, was giving him all possible care. One night the doctors held a consultation over the Lieutenant's case, two deciding that amputation was the only hope, and the third, Dr. Freeman, who had charge of that ward, insisting that the patient would die tinder the operation. It was finally decided that Mr. Warnock, though it was not his time on duty, should be requested to nurse Lieut. Davis through the night, and he consented to do so. The faithful wife also sat by his side through the long hours. Mr. Warnock gave the prescribed medicine regularly. About midnight the patient's mind wandered, his tongue became thick, and he passed into a stupor. "What is that you are giving him?" asked his wife. "It is brandy," answered the nurse. "0!" she exclaimed "I believe he is drunk, and I fear he is going to die; I would not have him die drunk for all the world!" Then she sobbed, and begged the nurse to give him no more of that. Mr. Warnock sympathized with her. He too thought as she did, that the man was about to die, and that he was drunk; but when the time came to give his patient another dose he picked up the tumbler and spoon. Then she renewed her pleading and tears, but the answer was: "I feel sorry for you, but I must do my duty. I cannot take the responsibility of making any change." So the medicine was given. In a short while the patient recovered consciousness, began to talk to his wife, and seemed better. Then she begged Mr. Warnock to give him some more of the medicine before the time came. But again he was faithful to his trust, saying: "No; just so much, and no more. I must follow the doctor's directions. That is what I am put here for." The next morning, when Dr. Freeman came, he was much pleased to find his patient better. He steadily recovered, and Mrs. Davis was profuse in her thanks to Mr. Warnock that he did not yield to her entreaties. In a recent letter Mr. Davis says: "I am sure he did his full share. He was so faithful and gentle and kind. Mv wife and I have often spoken of him." Here is faithfulness illustrated and rewarded. The pressure brought to bear on Mr. Warnock by the weeping and pleading wife was very powerful, btit he was worthy of the trust the doctors reposed in him. The result was that he saved the life of a man who has since been one of the most useful and honored citizens of Prattville and Autauga County, a father and grandfather, a teacher of wide reputation, and an active member of the Methodist Church. Mr. Warnock, also, is now a father and grandfather, an honored citizen of Calhoun County, a man of wealth, and a devout Christian, highly esteemed by all who know him. How different all this might have been had Mr. Warnock been unfaithful to his duty in the Barnesville hospital!
Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., March, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CAPTURE OF HOLLY SPRINGS, MISSISSIPPI W. R. Stevenson I was a member of Company F of the Third Texas Cavalry, Ross's Brigade, and after the battle at Corinth we fell back to Holly Springs, thence to Lumpkins's Mill, where we were reinforced. We then fell back below Grenada, and one evening, during a brisk rain, we received orders to cook three days' rations and be ready to move at a moment's warning. A short time after night the bugle sounded "saddle up." We mounted without knowing where we were going. We moved through Grenada and turned in a north-easterly direction, and between midnight and day the rain ceased, the clouds cleared away, the stars were bright,, and by daylight there was considerable frost on the ground. We passed on up through Pontotoc and several other small towns. When within twenty or twenty-five miles of Holly Springs we halted, fed our horses, and drew a little tough beef, our rations being nearly exhausted. Gen. Van Dorn sent word around to "the boys" to make out the best they could, as by the next morning he would have plenty for them. A little after dark we mounted and moved out toward Holly Springs. A scout was sent ahead to capture the Yankee pickets, which was done by our scouts getting between them and the town. We were marched tip near town, and waited a short time until day dawned, when we charged the town. When we passed in, seeing Gen. Van Dorn on a little rise, seated on his fine black mare, holding his hat above his head, I thought him as fine a general as I had ever seen. As we dashed down one of the main streets, by a two-story residence on the right, there were on the little front portico upstairs two ladies, mother and daughter doubtless, in their night dresses, both jumping up and down and clapping their hands, one of them crying at the top of her voice: "I told the Yankees our boys would come in here and catch them. I told them so." Both seemed to be as happy as mortals could possibly be. We captured everything but a few Yankees that jumped on their horses without waiting to dress, hare-backed, and most of them bareheaded. We got all the provisions we wanted, and plenty of guns, six-shooters, clothing, and horses. We burned large supplies for Grant's army. I understood that Mrs. Grant was in the town, and that Gen. Van Dorn put a guard around the house she occupied until we left. He paroled about 2,700 prisoners and we then proceeded up the main lines of railroads, tearing them up and burning most of the bridges nearly up to Bolivar. Tenn. We had a hard engagement at Davis's Mill, the enemy being in a blockhouse. We also had a severe engagement at Middleburg, Tenn., the enemy being in a large brick house, and we having no artillery with which to dislodge them. We then turned South and made our way back. Gen. Grant thought to cut us off at Ripley with his cavalry, but we beat them. While we were resting and taking a scant dinner, they attacked Col. Dudley Gaines's Regiment, which was on picket, and he had a light engagement until we had time to move out. We then made our way hack to the main army at Grenada. The raid was a complete success, and, I understood, prevented Grant from taking Vicksburg until the next year, which he did by way of the river. Confederate Veteran, Vol. VIII, No. 1 Nashville, Tenn., April, 1901. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE DEVIL'S DEN Gen. W. F. Perry - Bowling Green, Ky. Three or four miles south of Gettysburg, Pa., is a wild, rocky labyrinth, which, from its weird, uncanny features, has long been called by the people of the vicinity the "Devil's Den." The fierce conflict which was waged within and around it on the evening of July 2, 1863, has rendered it historic. Large rocks from six to fifteen feet high are thrown together in confusion over a considerable area, and yet so disposed as to leave everywhere among them winding passages carpeted with moss. Many of its recesses are never visited by the sunshine, and a cavernous coolness pervades the air within it. A short distance to the east the frowning bastions of Little Round Top rise two hundred feet above the level of the plain. An abrupt elevation, thirty or forty feet high, itself buttressed with rocks, constitutes the western boundary of this strange formation. On the south of the Den is an open space less than a hundred yards wide; and then begins a forest, which extends to and covers a larger hill known as Big Round Top. Toward the west, a narrow valley of cultivated land lying between, is Seminary Ridge, on which the Confederate army was drawn up. Upon the position I have described rested the left of the Federal line when the battle of the 2nd of July began. The rocks were filled with infantry, and on the adjacent elevation were three pieces of artillery. The storming and capture of this formidable position by the Southern troops was the opening act of the second day's battle of Gettysburg. Three bodies of troops have laid claim to the honor of the achievement: Benning's Brigade of Georgians, the Fourth Texas Regiment of Robertson's Brigade, and the Forty-Fourth Alabama Regiment of Law's Brigade. The commissioners of the Gettysburg National Military Park, unable or unwilling to discriminate, seem to have settled the dispute by dividing the honor among the claimants. As to the commander of the body of troops last named, even at the risk of incurring the charge of egotism, I propose to state precisely what occurred, as I saw and understood it at the time, and remember it now. I do so for the sake of the truth of history, and as an act of justice to a body of men that, in all the qualities of true soldiership, had few, if any, superiors in the Army of Northern Virginia. Law's Brigade arrived on the battlefield during the afternoon of July 2, after a forced march of twenty-two miles. It then made with the corps a tedious march of three or four miles in a circuit to gain the point on the extreme right from which the attack was to be delivered. About four o'clock in the evening it was thrown into line of battle on the crest of Seminary Ridge, facing due east, and fronting the two Round Top hills. It constituted the extreme right of the Confederate army. The view was imposing. Little Round Top, crowned with artillery, resembled a volcano in eruption; while the hillock near the Devil's Den, the distance between them being diminished by the view in perspective, appeared as a secondary crater near its base. It was evident that a formidable task was before us. The regimental commanders were ordered to go in on foot. This proved a misfortune. They should have remained mounted, at least until the rugged ground beyond the valley was reached. Three out of five, I believe, were prostrated before the battle closed. The brigade, as soon as its formation was completed, moved steadily down the slope into the valley. When near the middle of the valley, I received an order to capture the battery at the Devil's Den. Of course the name and the nature of the place were then unknown. It was perhaps three hundred yards to the left of the line on which we were advancing. To execute the order, it was necessary to swing loose from the brigade, change direction, and move upon the position without support on either flank. I at once resolved to make the attack from the woods south of the battery. My regiment, which was near the center, having been disengaged from the advancing line by a short halt, was thrown to the left of the brigade by an oblique march. It then moved directly forward until the edge of the woods was reached. Here it wheeled so as to face to the north, and at once moved upon the point of attack. The enemy were as invisible to us as we were to them. The presence of a battery of artillery of course implied the presence of a strong supporting force of infantry. Of its strength, its position, and the nature of its defenses, we were in total ignorance. We were soon to learn. As the line emerged from the woods into the open space mentioned above, a sheet of flame burst from the rocks less than a hundred yards away. A few scattering shots in the beginning gave warning in time for my men to fall flat, and thus largely to escape the effect of the main volley. They doubtless seemed to the enemy to be all dead; but the volume of the fire which they immediately returned proved that they were very much alive. No language can express the intensity of the solicitude with which I surveyed the strange, wild situation which suddenly burst upon my view. Upon the decision of a moment depended the honor of my command, and perhaps the lives of many brave men. I knew that, if called upon, they would follow me, and felt confident that the place could be carried by an impetuous charge. But then what? There were no supporting troops in sight. A heavy force of the enemy might envelop and overpower us. It was certain that we should be exposed to a plunging, enfilading fire from Little Round Top. And yet, the demoralization and shame of a retreat, and an exposure to be shot in the back, were not to be thought of. Before the enemy had time to reload their guns a decision was made. Leaping over my prostrate line, I shouted the order "Forward!" and started for the rocks. The response was a bound, a yell, and a rush, and in less than a minute the right wing of the regiment was pouring into the Den---the enemy escaping from the opposite side---and the left was scaling the rugged eminence on which the artillery was planted. It was led by Maj. George W. Cary, who, flag in hand, bounded up the cliff, and landed on the crest ahead of the line. The gunners, stationed where they could see what was coming, made their escape; while the infantry support of the battery, apparently taken by surprise, surrendered without resistance. They constituted the right wing of the Fourth Maine Regiment. I soon afterwards met one of the surrendered officers, who complimented, in the highest terms, the gallantry of Maj. Gary and his men. A few minutes later the Major found me among the rocks near the foot of the hill, prostrated by heat and excessive exertion. He exhibited an armful of swords as trophies of his victory, and complained that cannon from both sides were playing on his position. This I knew to be true as to the Federal side. At the very entrance of the labyrinth a spherical case shot from Round Top had exploded very near my head, and thrown its deadly contents against a rock almost within my reach. He was ordered to hurry back and withdraw the men from the crest, so that they could find shelter on the sides of the hill. In a very short time he came back in great haste, and informed me that a force of the enemy large enough to envelop our position was moving down upon us. I sprang to my feet with the intention of climbing the hill to see the situation and determine what to do, but found myself unable to stand without support. While we were anxiously discussing the situation, Benning's Brigade, moving in splendid style, swept in from Seminary Ridge on our left, and met the threatening force. One of us remarked: "There is Benning; we are all right now." His march was so directed that his right lapped upon my left, and poured over the hill upon which were the abandoned guns. A furious battle now began along his entire line, as well as my own, which had pressed through to the north side of the rocks. Other troops, also, are spoken of by the Gettysburg Park Commissioners as engaged in the struggle for the possession of the Devil's Den. In a most interesting work recently published by them, entitled "New York at Gettysburg," a copy of which was kindly sent me, I find it stated that four brigades of Southern troops were engaged in its capture. If by that name is meant the peculiar rocky formation above described, a very good picture of which is given in their work, I know that a single regiment of three hundred and forty men stormed and carried it in less than five minutes after the first gun was fired. Their reference must have been to the number engaged in repelling the counter attack which the capture provoked. It has always been to me a source of sincere regret that my disability, which continued until after nightfall, prevented me from seeing anything that occurred after the arrival of Benning's line. Buried in the recesses of the rocks, I could only hear. It is seldom that a soldier in the midst of a great battle, in comparative security and perfect composure, can enjoy the privilege of listening. The incessant roar of small arms, the deadly hiss of Minie balls, the shouts of the combatants, the booming of cannon, the explosion of shells, and the crash of their fragments among the rocks, all blended in one dread chorus whose sublimity and terror no power of expression could compass. The conflict raged at intervals until dark. My loss was comparatively light, considering the desperate character of the fighting. This was due to three causes: the happy dodge given the first volley of the enemy; the rush made upon them before they had time to reload; the protection afterwards afforded by the rocks. The killed and wounded numbered ninety-two, a little over one-fourth of those who went into action. Soon after dark the enemy extended their line southward, so as to cover Big Round Top. Law's Brigade made a corresponding movement to confront them, and the Forty-Fourth was withdrawn from the Devil's Den, and rejoined the command. The captured guns were removed during the night by Benning's Brigade, or by the Fourth Texas, which was engaged at the same point. I would not be understood as expressing or entertaining a suspicion that any false claim to the capture of the position was intentionally made. It was perfectly natural that, coming on the abandoned guns, and no other troops being in sight, they should regard themselves as the first captors. I heard soon after the battle that the claim was made, but was too indifferent to give the matter any attention. Stunned and dazed by the result of the campaign, a result which cast ominous conjecture on the whole Southern cause, I could not realize that the next generation would feel the keenest desire to know, even down to the minutest particulars, everything that occurred in that epoch-making conflict. Though not strictly within, the scope of this paper, it is, nevertheless, in order to speak briefly of the other regiments of Law's Brigade: the Fourth, the Fifteenth, the Forty-Seventh, and Forty-Eighth Alabama. After the Forty-Fourth parted company and headed northward to the Devil's Den, they pressed on into the woods, clambered over a rugged spur between the two Round Top hills, furiously assailed. Little Round Top, scaled its steeps, and fought more than twice their number on its rocky terraces, until night ended the struggle. All this, after a forced march of twenty-six miles in the heat of a sultry July day. It would be hard to find in the annals of war a parallel to that day's work of Law's Brigade. Gen. W. F. Perry entered the Confederate service in May, 1862, as major of the Forty-Fourth Alabama Regiment. He joined the Army of Northern Virginia the last of June, while the battles around Richmond were in progress. Having been assigned to Longstreet's Corps, he afterwards took part in every important battle of that famous body of troops. He was promoted to the command of his regiment on the field of Sharpsburg. On the first day of the battle of Chickamauga, he led his regiment in an independent charge, which broke the Federal line in his front, and on the second day, at the head of Law's Brigade, he took a prominent part in the capture of sixteen pieces of artillery on Snodgrass Hill. In January, 1864, Gen. Longstreet recommended him for promotion for gallantry in battle. In 1864, as senior officer present, he led his brigade in all the desperate battles between Grant and Lee, and was subsequently promoted to its permanent command. During the last days of the retreat to Appomattox, Perry's brigade, on account of its fine tone and discipline, was made the rear guard of the army; and at the surrender it constituted about one-tenth of Gen. Lee's effective force.
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