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Title: The Lone Star Defenders A Chronicle of the Third Texas Cavalry, Ross' Brigade Author: Samuel Benton Barron Release Date: November 17, 2015 [eBook #50472] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LONE STAR DEFENDERS*** E-text prepared by Giovanni Fini and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/lonestardefender00barr cover [i] THE LONE STAR DEFENDERS DECORATION Battle-flag of the Third Texas Cavalry Regiment THE LONE STAR DEFENDERS A CHRONICLE OF THE THIRD TEXAS CAVALRY, ROSS’ BRIGADE BY S. B. BARRON OF THE THIRD TEXAS CAVALRY [ii] [iii] [1] New York and Washington THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 1908 To my comrades Survivors of Ross’ Brigade of Texas Cavalry and to our children and grandchildren I affectionately dedicate this Volume. [2] [3] CONTENTS PAGE Introduction 11 CHAPTER I THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR Journey to Texas—John Brown’s Raid—My Secession Resolution—Presidential Election—Lincoln Elected—Excitement in the South—Secession Ordinances—“The Lone Star Defenders”—Fort Sumter Fired On—Camp Life—The Regiment Complete—Citizens’ Kindness—Mustered In—The Third Texas Cavalry—Roster 15 CHAPTER II OFF FOR THE FRONT Organization of Regiment—Officers—Accouterment—On the March—Taming a Trouble-maker— Crossing the Red River—In the Indian Territory—The Indian Maid—Fort Smith—The March to Missouri—McCulloch’s Headquarters—Under Orders—Preparation for First Battle 26 CHAPTER III OUR FIRST BATTLE On the March—Little York Raid—Under Fire—Our First Battle—Oak Hill (Wilson’s Creek)—Death of General Lyon—Our First Charge—Enemy Retires—Impressions of First Battle—Death of Young Willie—Horrors of a Battlefield—Troops Engaged—Casualties 39 CHAPTER IV THE WAR IN MISSOURI Personal Characteristics—Two Braggarts—Joe Welch—William Hood—We Enter Springfield—Bitter Feeling in Missouri—Company Elections—Measles and Typhoid—Carthage, and My Illness There —We Leave Carthage—Death of Captain Taylor—Winter Quarters—Furloughed—Home Again 52 CHAPTER V THE WAR IN MISSOURI—Continued I Rejoin the Command—Sleeping in Snow—Ambushed—Battle of Elkhorn Tavern (Pea Ridge)— Capturing a Battery—Deaths of Generals McCulloch and McIntosh—Battle Continued—Casualties —Keetsville—Official Reports—March Southward—Foraging—Lost Artillery—Illness Again 63 CHAPTER VI THE SIEGE OF CORINTH Leave Winter Quarters—The Prairies—Duvall’s Bluff—Awaiting Transportation—White River—The Mississippi—Memphis—Am Detailed—En Route to Corinth—Corinth—Red Tape—Siege of Corinth—“A Soldier’s Grave”—Digging for Water—Suffering and Sickness—Regiment Reorganized—Evacuation of Corinth 79 CHAPTER VII BATTLE OF IUKA Camp at Tupelo, Miss.—Furloughed—Report for Duty—Camp Routine—“The Sick Call”—Saltillo— Personnel of the Brigade—Baldwin “Contraband”—On to Iuka—Iuka—Battle of Iuka—Casualties —Retreat 96 CHAPTER VIII BATTLE OF CORINTH Captain Dunn, the “Mormon”—Paroles—Baldwin—On to Corinth—Conscription—Looking for Breakfast—The Army Trapped—A Skirmish—Escape—Holly Springs—Battle of Corinth— Casualties—Cavalry Again 111 CHAPTER IX HOLLY SPRINGS RAID At Grenada—Scouting—Engagement at Oakland—Chaplain Thompson’s Adventure—Holly Springs Raid—Jake—The Bridge at Wolf River—I Am Wounded—Bolivar—Attack on Middleburg— Christmas 127 CHAPTER X [4] [5] THE ENGAGEMENT AT THOMPSON’S STATION January, 1863—Jake Arrested—Detailed—My Brother Visits Me—Elected Second Lieutenant—Battle of Thompson’s Station—Duck River—Capture of the Legion—The “Sick Camp”—Murder of General Van Dorn 143 CHAPTER XI THE SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG Moving Southward—I Lose My Horse—Meet Old Huntsville Friends—A New Horse—In Mississippi —“Sneeze Weed”—Messenger’s Ferry—Surrender of Vicksburg—Army Retires—Fighting at Jackson—After Sherman’s Men—A Sick Horse—Black Prince—“Tax in Kind”—Ross’ Brigade— Two Desertions 156 CHAPTER XII BATTLE AT YAZOO CITY Midwinter—Through the Swamps—Gunboat Patrols—Crossing the Mississippi—Through the Ice— Ferrying Guns—Hardships—Engagement at Yazoo City—Harrying Sherman—Under Suspicion— A Practical Joke—Battle at Yazoo City—Casualties—A Social Call—Eastwood—Drowning Accident—A Military Survey 173 CHAPTER XIII UNDER FIRE FOR ONE HUNDRED DAYS Corduroy Breeches—Desolate Country—Conscript Headquarters—An “Arrest”—Rome, Ga.—Under Fire for One Hundred Days—Big and Little Kenesaw—Lost Mountain—Rain, Rain, Rain— Hazardous Scouting—Green Troops—Shelled—Truce—Atlanta—Death of General MacPherson— Ezra Church—McCook’s Retreat—Battle near Newman—Results 190 CHAPTER XIV KILPATRICK’S RAID Kilpatrick’s Raid—Attack on Kilpatrick—Lee’s Mill—Lovejoy’s Station—The Brigade Demoralized—I Surrender—Playing ’Possum—I Escape—The Brigade Reassembles—Casualties 205 CHAPTER XV UNION SOLDIER’S ACCOUNT OF KILPATRICK’S RAID Kilpatrick’s Raid—Ordered to the Front—Enemy’s Artillery Silenced—We Destroy the Railroad—Hot Work at the Railroad—Plan of Our Formation—Stampeding the Horses—The Enemy Charges— Sleeping on Horseback—Swimming the River—Camped at Last 216 CHAPTER XVI CLOSE OF THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN Sherman Changes His Tactics—Hood Deceived—Heavy Fighting—Atlanta Surrenders—End of the Campaign—Losses—Scouting—An Invader’s Devastation—Raiding the Raiders—Hood Crosses the Coosa—A Reconnaissance—Negro Spies—Raiding the Blacks—Crossing Indian Creek—A Conversion 228 CHAPTER XVII MY LAST BATTLE Tories and Deserters—A Tragic Story—A Brutal Murder—The Son’s Vow—Vengeance—A Southern Heroine—Seeking Our Command—Huntsville—A Strange Meeting—We Find the Division—The Battle in the Fog—My Last Battle 245 CHAPTER XVIII ROSS’ REPORT OF BRIGADE’S LAST CAMPAIGN Ross’ Report—Repulse a Reconnoitering Party—Effective Fighting Strength—Advance Guard—The Battle at Campbellsville—Results—Thompson’s Station—Harpeth River—Murfreesboro—Lynville —Pulaski—Sugar Creek—Losses During Campaign—Captures—Acknowledgments 254 CHAPTER XIX THE END OF THE WAR Christmas—I Lose All My Belongings—The “Owl Train”—A Wedding—Furloughed—Start for Texas —Hospitality—A Night in the Swamp—The Flooded Country—Swimming the Rivers—In Texas —Home Again—Surrender of Lee, Johnston, and Kirby Smith—Copy of Leave of Absence— Recapitulation—Valuation of Horses in 1864—Finis 267 [6] [7] [8] [9] ILLUSTRATIONS Battle Flag of the Third Texas Cavalry Frontispiece FACING PAGE Lieutenant-Colonel P. F. Ross, Sixth Texas Cavalry 24 Jiles S. Boggess, Captain, Major; Lieutenant-Colonel Third Texas Cavalry 50 Captain D. R. Gurley, Sixth Texas Cavalry, A. A. G. Ross’ Brigade 76 F. M. Taylor, first Captain of Company C, Third Texas Cavalry 100 John Germany, fourth and last Captain Company C, Third Texas Cavalry 126 Jesse W. Wynne, Captain Company B, Third Texas Cavalry 150 Captain H. L. Taylor, Commander Ross’ Brigade Scouts 176 Leonidas Cartwright, Company E, Third Texas Cavalry; Member of Taylor’s Scouts, Ross’ Brigade 200 G. A. McKee, Private Company C, Third Texas Cavalry 226 Lieutenant S. B. Barron, Third Texas Cavalry 250 [10] [11] INTRODUCTION As my recollections of the war between the States, or the Confederate War, in which four of the best years of my life (May, 1861, to May, 1865) were given to the service of the Confederate States of America, are to be written at the earnest request of my children, and mainly for their gratification, it is, perhaps, proper to preface the recital by going back a few years in order to give a little family history. I was born in what is now the suburbs of the town of Gurley in Madison County, Alabama, on the 9th day of November, 1834. My father, Samuel Boulds Barron, was born in South Carolina in 1793. His father, James Barron, as I understand, was a native of Ireland. My mother’s maiden name was Martha Cotten, daughter of James Cotten, who was from Guilford County, North Carolina, and who was in the battle of Guilford Court House, at the age of sixteen. His future wife, Nancy Johnson, was then a young girl living in hearing of the battle at the Court House. About the beginning of the past century, 1800, my Grandfather Cotten, with his wife, her brother Abner Johnson, and their relatives, Gideon and William Pillow, and their sister, Mrs. Dew, moved out from North Carolina into Tennessee, stopping in Davidson County, near Nashville. Later Abner Johnson and the Pillows settled in Maury County, near Columbia, and about the year 1808 my grandfather and his family came on to Madison County, Alabama, and settled at what has always been known as Cave Springs, about fifteen miles east or southeast from Huntsville. In the second war with Great Britain (the War of 1812) my Grandfather Cotten again answered the call to arms, and as a captain he served his country with notable gallantry. It is like an almost forgotten dream, the recollection of my paternal grandmother and my maternal grandfather, for both of them died when I was a small child. My maternal grandmother, however, who lived to the age of eighty-seven years, I remember well. In my earliest recollection my father was a school-teacher, teaching at a village then called “The Section,” afterwards “Lowsville,” being now the town of Maysville, twelve miles east of Huntsville. He was well- educated and enjoyed the reputation of being an excellent teacher. He quit teaching, however, and settled on a small farm four miles east of Cave Springs, on what is known as the “Cove road,” running from Huntsville to Bellefonte. Here he died when I was about seven years of age, leaving my mother with five children: John Ashworth, a son by her first husband; my brother, William J. Barron, who now lives in Huntsville, Alabama; two sisters, Tabitha and Nancy Jane; and myself. About nine years later our mother died. In the meantime our half-brother had arrived at man’s estate and left home. Soon after our mother’s death we sold the homestead, and each one went his or her way, as it were, the sisters living with our near-by relatives until they married. My brother and myself found employment in Huntsville and lived there. Our older sister and her husband came to Texas in about the year 1857, and settled first in Nacogdoches County. In the fall of 1859 I came to Texas, to bring my then widowed sister and her child to my sister already here. And so, as the old song went, “I am away here in Texas.” [12] [13] [14] [15] The Lone Star Defenders CHAPTER I THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR Journey to Texas—John Brown’s Raid—My Secession Resolution—Presidential Election—Lincoln Elected—Excitement in the South—Secession Ordinances—“The Lone Star Defenders”—Fort Sumter Fired On—Camp Life—The Regiment Complete—Citizens’ Kindness—Mustered In—The Third Texas Cavalry—Roster. No, I am not going to write, or attempt to write, a history of the war, or even a detailed account of any campaign or battle in which I participated, but only mean to set forth the things which I witnessed or experienced myself in the four years of marching, camping, and fighting, as I can now recall them—only, or mainly, personal reminiscences. Incidentally I will give the names of my comrades of Company C, Third Texas Cavalry, and tell, so far as I can remember, what became of the individuals who composed the company. I will not dwell on the causes of the war or anything which has been so often and so well told relating thereto, but will merely state that I had always been very conservative in my feelings in political matters, and was so all through the exciting times just preceding the war while Abolitionism and Secession were so much discussed by our statesmen, orators, newspapers, and periodicals. I had witnessed the Kansas troubles, which might be called a skirmish before the battle, with much interest and anxiety, and without losing faith in the ability and wisdom of our statesmen to settle the existing troubles without disrupting the government. But on my journey to Texas, as we glided down the Mississippi from Memphis to New Orleans, on board the Lizzie Simmons, a new and beautiful steamer, afterwards converted into a cotton-clad Confederate gunboat, we obtained New Orleans papers from an up-river boat. The papers contained an account of John Brown’s raid on Harper’s Ferry. I read this, and became a Secessionist. I saw, or thought I saw, that the storm was coming, that it was inevitable, and it seemed useless to shut my eyes longer to the fact. The year 1860, my first in Texas, was a memorable one in several respects, not only to the newcomers but to the oldest inhabitant. The severest drouth ever known in eastern Texas prevailed until after the middle of August. It was the hottest summer ever known in Texas, the temperature in July running up to 112 degrees in the shade. It was a Presidential election year, and political excitement was intense. The Democrats were divided, while the Abolitionists had nominated Abraham Lincoln as their candidate for President, with a good prospect of electing him by a sectional vote. Several towns in Texas being almost destroyed by fire during the extreme heat of the summer, an impression became generally prevalent that Northern incendiaries were prowling through the State burning property and endeavoring to incite the negroes to insurrection. The excitement, apprehension, unrest, and the vague fear of unseen danger pervading the minds of the people of Texas cannot be understood by persons who were not in the State at that time. The citizens organized patrol forces and armed men guarded the towns, day and night, for weeks. Every passing stranger was investigated and his credentials examined. The poor peddler, especially, was in imminent danger of being mobbed at any time on mere suspicion. At the November election Abraham Lincoln was elected President. This was considered by the Secessionists as an overt act on the part of the North that would justify secession. I was out in the country when the news of the election came, and when, on my return, I rode into Rusk the Lone Star flag was floating over the court-house and Abraham Lincoln, in effigy, was hanging to the limb of a sweet gum tree that stood near the northwest corner of the court yard. From this time excitement ran high. Immediate steps were taken by the extreme Southern States to secede from the Union, an act that was consummated as soon as practicable by the assembling of State conventions and the passage of ordinances of secession. Now, too, volunteer companies began organizing in order to be ready for the conflict which seemed to be inevitable. We soon raised a company in Rusk for the purpose of drilling and placing ourselves in readiness for the first call for troops from Texas. We organized by electing General Joseph L. Hogg, father of Ex-Governor J. S. Hogg, as captain. The company was named “The Lone Star Defenders,” for every company must needs have a name in those days. Early in 1861, however, when it appeared necessary to prepare for actual service, the company was reorganized and the gallant Frank M. Taylor made captain, as General Hogg was not expected to enter the army as captain. Several of the States had already seceded, the military posts in the South were being captured by the Confederates and Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, was fired upon by our General Beauregard on the 12th day of April, 1861. The dogs of war were turned loose. War now became a stern reality, a war the magnitude of which no one then had any conception. President Lincoln’s first call for volunteers was for ninety-day men, and the Confederate volunteers were mustered in for one year. Having learned that Elkanah Greer, of Marshall, had been commissioned colonel and ordered to raise a regiment of Texas cavalry, we lost no time in reporting ourselves ready to make one company of the regiment, and soon received instructions to report at Dallas, on a certain day in June, when a regiment would be formed. So on Monday morning, June 10, in the year of our Lord, 1861, we were to leave, and did leave, Rusk for Dallas—and beyond, as the [16] [17] [18] exigencies of the war might determine. The population of the town, men, women, and children, were on the streets, in tears, to bid us farewell. Even rough, hard-faced men whose appearance would lead one to believe they hadn’t shed a tear since their boyhood, boo-hoo’d and were unable to speak the word “good-by.” This day of leave-taking was the saddest of the war to many of us. After we had mounted our horses we assembled around the front of the old Thompson Hotel, which stood where the Acme Hotel now stands, when our old friend, General Hogg, standing on the front steps, delivered us a formal and a very tender farewell address. War was not unknown to him, for he had been a soldier in the early days of Texas, as well as a member of the Texas Congress in the days of the republic. He was a fine specimen of the best type of Southern manhood—tall, slender, straight as an Indian, and exceedingly dignified in his manner. As brave as “Old Hickory,” he often reminded me of the pictures I had seen of General Jackson, and he certainly had many similar traits of character. We venerated, admired, and loved him, and he was warmly attached to the company. In his address he gave us much good advice, even to the details of mess duties and the treatment of our messmates. Among other things, he said, “Don’t ever jeer at or mock any of your comrades who cannot stand the fire of the enemy. Some of you, perhaps, will find yourselves unable to do so. Some men are thus constituted without knowing it, until they are tried. So you should be charitable towards such unfortunates.” Later I found these words of our old soldier friend to be true. This ceremony ended, we sadly moved off by twos, over the hill, and up the street leading into the Jacksonville road. As we marched forward sadness was soon succeeded by merriment and good cheer. Some of the boys composed a little song, which was frequently sung by I. K. Frazer and others as we went marching on. It began: “The Lone Star Defenders, a gallant little band, On the tenth of June left their native land.” Before leaving home we had spent two weeks in a camp of instruction, and learned something of the duties of camp life and the necessary art of rolling and unrolling our blankets. We camped the first night near Jorial Barnett’s, between Jacksonville and Larissa. Two of the Barnett boys were going with us, and several from Larissa. When we reached Larissa next morning we there found a young man, Charley Watts, who was a bugler, and had been in the Federal Army, he said. He was willing and anxious to go with us, and we wanted him, as he was young and active, but he was afoot, and seemed to own nothing beyond his wearing apparel. So we appealed to the citizens, as a goodly number had gathered into the little village to see the soldiers pass, and in little more time than it takes to tell it, we had him rigged with horse, bridle, saddle, and blankets. Charley proved to be a fine bugler, the finest bugler I ever heard in either army, and he was a most gallant young fellow. We moved on, bidding farewell to Captain Taylor’s noble and patriotic old mother, as we passed her residence. Fearing we might be left out of the regiment, we dispatched Captain Taylor and one or two others well-mounted men to go ahead and secure and hold our place for us. The ladies of Cherokee County having presented us with a beautiful flag, this we unfurled and marched through the towns and villages along the way in great style and military pomp. At Kaufman we received quite an ovation. Arriving there about ten o’clock in the morning, we were met by a deputation of citizens, who invited us to dine at the hotel at the expense of the town. This was very reluctantly declined, for we were afraid of losing time. Poor fellows, we often regretted missing that good dinner, and we really had plenty of time, if we had only known it. To show our appreciation of their hospitality we marched around the public square, displaying the flag and sounding the bugle. When we had arrived in front of a saloon we were halted and all invited to dismount and drink, without cost to us. We here spent perhaps an hour, during which time numbers of the boys entered stores to purchase small necessary articles, and in every instance pay was declined. In due time we went into camp in a post oak grove two miles east of Dallas, a locality, by the way, which is now well within the city limits. And here we remained for some time. Eight other organized companies were soon camped in different localities in the neighborhood, but we were still one company short. However, as there were many men, including a large squad from Kaufman County, some from Cherokee and other counties, on the ground wishing to go with us, and who could not get into the organized companies because they were all full, they organized themselves into a tenth company, which completed the necessary number for the regiment. We spent about four weeks in Dallas County, a delay caused in good part by the necessity of waiting for the arrival of a train from San Antonio carrying United States wagons and mules captured at that post by the Confederates. The time, however, was well spent in daily drills, in feeding, grazing and attending to our horses; and then, too, we were learning valuable lessons in camp life. While here we had plenty of rations for ourselves and plenty of forage for the horses. The citizens of Dallas County, as far as we came in contact with them, were very kind to us. Our nearest neighbor was a German butcher by the name of Nusbauman. We used water from the well in his yard and were indebted to him and his family for many acts of kindness. On one occasion Mrs. Nusbauman complained to Captain Taylor that one of his men had borrowed her shears to cut hair with, and would not bring them back. No, she did not know the name of the offender. The captain then said, “Madame, do you know the man when you see him?” “Oh, yes.” “Well, when he comes to draw water again you sprinkle flour on his back and I will find your shears.” In a few hours one of the men came out from the well with his back covered with flour—and the shears were promptly returned. Our next nearest neighbors were a family named Sheppard, who lived a few hundred yards south of our camp, and whose kindness was unbounded. Their house was our hospital for the time we were in their vicinity, and the three young [19] [20] [21] [22] ladies of the family, Misses Jennie Wood, Maggie, and another, were unremitting in their attentions to the sick. On one damp, drizzly day when I had a chill they heard of it somehow, and in the afternoon two of them drove up in a buggy and called for me to go home with them, where I could be sheltered, as we yet had no tents. I went, of course, recovered in one day, convalesced in about three days, and reluctantly returned to camp. In an effort to do some washing for myself, I had lost a plain gold ring from my finger, a present from Miss Cattie Everett of Rusk, and Miss Jennie Wood Sheppard replaced it with one of her own. This ring was worn by me continually, not only during the war, but for several years after its close. I do not remember the date, but some day near the end of June “The Lone Star Defenders,” that “gallant little band,” were formally mustered into the service of the Confederate States of America, for one year. We were subjected to no physical examination, or other foolishness, but every fellow was taken for better or for worse, and no questions were asked, except the formal, “Do you solemnly swear,” etc. The company was lettered “C,” Greer’s Regiment, Texas Cavalry—afterwards numbered and ever afterwards known as the Third Texas Cavalry. We were mustered in, officers and men, as follows: Officers—Frank M. Taylor, captain; James J. A. Barker, first lieutenant; Frank M. Daniel, second lieutenant; James A. Jones, second lieutenant; Wallace M. Caldwell, orderly sergeant; John D. White, second sergeant; S. B. Barron, third sergeant; Tom Petree, fourth sergeant; William Pennington, first corporal; Thomas F. Woodall, second corporal; C. C. Acker, third corporal; P. C. Coupland, fourth corporal; Charles Watts, bugler; John A. Boyd, ensign. Privates—Peter Acker, John B. Armstrong, David H. Allen, James M. Brittain, R. L. Barnett, James Barnett, Severe D. Box, A. A. Box, William P. Bowers, John W. Baker, C. C. Brigman, George F. Buxton, Jordan Bass, Carter Caldwell, William P. Crawley, A. G. Carmichael, A. M. Croft, James P. Chester, Leander W. Cole, James W. Cooper, William H. Carr, W. J. Davis, James E. Dillard, F. M. Dodson, John E. Dunn, O. M. Doty, H. H. Donoho, B. C. Donald, Stock Ewin, John J. Felps, I. K. Frazer, John Germany, Luther Grimes, E. M. Grimes, J. H. Gum, L. F. Grisham, W. L. Gammage, W. D. Herndon, J. R. Halbert, W. T. Harris, D. B. Harris, Thomas E. Hogg, John Honson, Warren H. Higginbotham, R. H. Hendon, William Hammett, James B. Hardgrave, Felix G. Hardgrave, R. L. Hood, William Hood, James Ivy, Thomas J. Johnson, J. H. Jones, John B. Long, Ben A. Long, George C. Long, R. C. Lawrence, John Lambert, J. B. Murphy, William P. Mosely, John Meyers, Harvey N. Milligan, W. C. McCain, G. A. McKee, W. W. McDugald, Dan McCaskill, Samuel W. Newberry, William A. Newton, George Noland, Baxter Newman, J. T. Park, T. A. Putnam, Lemon R. Peacock, W. T. Phillips, Lemuel H. Reed, T. W. Roberts, Cythe Robertson, Calvin M. Roark, John B. Reagan, A. B. Summers, John W. Smith, Cicero H. Smith, Rufus Smith, Sam E. Scott, J. R. Starr, James R. Taylor, Reuben G. Thompson, Dan H. Turney, Robert F. Woodall, Woodson O. Wade, F. M. Wade, E. S. Wallace, R. S. Wallace, John R. Watkins, C. C. Watkins, Joe L. Welch, Thomas H. Willson, N. J. Yates. Total rank and file—112 men. In addition to the above list of original members, the following named recruits were added to the company after we had lost several of our men by death and discharge: [23] [24] Peter F. Ross Major and Lieutenant-Colonel Sixth Texas Cavalry A. J. Gray, Charles B. Harris, J. T. Halbert, John E. Jones, Wm. H. Kellum, W. S. Keahey, S. N. Keahey, J. D. Miller, T. L. Newman, T. L. Nosworthy, John W. Wade, Wyatt S. Williams, Eugene W. Williams. Total—125 men enlisted in the company. Of these the killed numbered 14 Died of disease 16 Discharged 31 Commissioned officers resigned 3 Missing and never heard of 2 Deserted 7 Survived (commissioned and non-commissioned officers, 12; privates, 40) 52 —– 125 Of these recruits, six, the first on the list, came to us in February and March, 1862; the next three joined us in April, 1862; the remaining four joined us in 1863, while we were in Mississippi. The company consisted mainly of natives of the different Southern States, with a few native Texans. Aside from these we had Buxton, from the State of Maine; Milligan, from Indiana, and three foreigners, William Hood, an Englishman; John Dunn, Irish, and John Honson, a Swede. Milligan was a printer, and being too poor to buy his outfit when he joined us, he was furnished with horse and accouterments by our friend, B. Miller, a German citizen of Rusk. [25] [26] CHAPTER II OFF FOR THE FRONT Organization of Regiment—Officers—Accouterment—On the March—Taming a Trouble-maker—Crossing the Red River —In the Indian Territory—The Indian Maid—Fort Smith—The March to Missouri—McCulloch’s Headquarters—Under Orders—Preparation for First Battle. After the companies were mustered into the service the regiment was organized. Colonel Elkanah Greer was commissioned by the Confederate War Department. Walter P. Lane was elected lieutenant-colonel, and George W. Chilton, father of United States Senator Horace Chilton, was made major. M. D. Ecton, first lieutenant of Company B, was made adjutant, Captain —— Harris, quartermaster, Jas. B. Armstrong, of Henderson, commissary, and our Dr. W. W. McDugald, surgeon. Thus was organized the first regiment to leave the State of Texas, and one of the best regiments ever in the Confederate service. I would not say that it was the best regiment, as in my opinion the best regiment and the bravest man in the Confederate Army were hard to find. That is to say, no one regiment was entitled to be designated “the best regiment,” as no one of our brave men could rightly be designated “the bravest man in the army.” Napoleon called Marshal Ney “the bravest of the brave,” but no one could single out a Confederate soldier and truthfully say, “He is the bravest man in the army.” It was unfortunately true that all our men were not brave and trustworthy, for we had men who were too cowardly to fight, and we had some men unprincipled enough to desert; but taken all in all, for gallantry and for fighting qualities under any and all circumstances, either in advance or retreat, the regiment deservedly stood in the front rank in all our campaigning. The regiment was well officered, field staff, and line. Colonel Greer was a gallant man, but unfortunately his mind was too much bent on a brigadier’s stars; Major Chilton, whenever an opportunity offered, showed himself to be brave and gallant; but Walter P. Lane, our lieutenant-colonel, was the life of the regiment during our first year’s service. A more gallant man than he never wore a sword, bestrode a war horse, or led a regiment in battle. He was one of the heroes of San Jacinto, and a born soldier. In camps, in times when there was little or nothing to do, he was not overly popular with the men, but when the fighting time came he gained the admiration of everyone. At last the long-looked-for train came—United States wagons drawn by six-mule teams, poor little Spanish or Mexican mules, driven by Mexicans. They brought us tents, camp kettles, mess pans and such things, and for arms, holster pistols. We were furnished with two wagons to the company and were given Sibley tents,—large round tents that would protect sixteen men with their arms and accouterments,—a pair of holster pistols apiece, and a fair outfit of “cooking tricks.” We were then formed into messes of sixteen men each, and each mess was provided with the Sibley tent, the officers being provided with wall tents. Fairly mounted, we were pretty well equipped now, our chief deficiency being the very poor condition of the mules and the lack of proper arms, for the men, in mustering, had gathered up shotguns, rifles, and any kind of gun obtainable at home, many of them being without a firearm of any kind. A large number had had huge knives made in the blacksmith shops, with blade eighteen to twenty-four inches long, shaped something like a butcher’s cleaver, keen-edged, with a stout handle, a weapon after the order of a Cuban machete. These were carried in leather scabbards, hung to the saddle, and with these deadly weapons the boys expected to ride through the ranks of the Federal armies and chop down the men right and left. Now, however, to this equipment were added the pair of holster pistols. These very large, brass-mounted, single-barreled pistols—with barrels about a foot long—carried a large musket ball, and were suspended in holsters that fitted over the horn of the saddle, thus placing them in a convenient position for use. In addition to all this, every fellow carried a grass rope at least forty feet long and an iron stake pin. These latter were for staking out the horses to graze, and many was the untrained horse that paid dear for learning the art of “walking the rope,” for an educated animal would never injure himself in the least. All things being ready, we now started on our long march, accompanied by Captain J. J. Goode’s battery, which had been organized at Dallas, to join General Ben McCulloch in northwestern Arkansas, where he, with what forces he had been able to gather, was guarding our Arkansas frontier. Leaving Dallas on the—day of July, we moved via McKinney and Sherman, crossing Red River at Colbert’s ferry, thence by the overland mail route through the Indian Territory to Fort Smith, Ark., and beyond. We made moderate marches, the weather being very warm, and we then had no apparent reason for rapid movements. When near McKinney we stopped two or three days. Here our man from the State of Maine began to give us trouble. When sober, Buxton was manageable and a useful man to the company, but when he was in liquor, which was any time he could get whisky, he was troublesome, quarrelsome, and dangerous, especially to citizens. One afternoon Captain Taylor and myself rode into McKinney, where we found Buxton drunk and making trouble. The captain ordered him to camp, but he contumaciously refused to go. We managed to get him back to the rear of a livery stable, near a well, and Captain Taylor forced him down across a mound of fertilizer—holding him there. Then he ordered me to pour water on Buxton, which I did most copiously. I drew bucket after bucket of cold water from the well and poured it upon Buxton’s prostrate, soldierly form, until he was thoroughly cooled and partially sobered, when the captain let him up and again ordered him to camp—and he went, cursing and swearing vengeance. This man, after giving us a good deal of trouble from time to time until after the battle of Elkhorn in the spring of 1862, was jailed in Fort Smith for shooting a citizen in the street, and here we left him and crossed the Mississippi River. He made his escape from jail and followed us to the State of Mississippi, when Lieutenant-Colonel Lane ordered him out of camp. [27] [28] [29] [30] He afterwards returned to Rusk, where he was killed one day by a gunshot wound, but by whom no one seemed to know. We passed through Sherman early in the morning, and I stopped to have my horse shod, overtaking the command at Colbert’s ferry in the afternoon, when they were crossing Red River. The day was fair, the weather dry and hot. The river, very low now, had high banks, and in riding down from the south side you came on to a wide sandbar extending to a narrow channel running against the north bank, where a small ferryboat was carrying the wagons and artillery across. A few yards above the ferry the river was easily fordable, so the horsemen had all crossed and gone into camp a mile beyond the river, as had most of the wagons. I rode to the other side and stopped on the north bank to watch operations. All the wagons but one had been ferried over, and this last one had been driven down on the sandbar near the ferry landing, waiting for the boat’s return, while two pieces of artillery were standing near by on the sandbar. Suddenly I heard a roaring sound up the river, as if a wind storm was coming. I looked in that direction and saw a veritable flood rushing down like a mighty wave of the sea, roaring and foaming as it came. The driver of the team standing near the water saw it and instinctively began turning his team to drive out, but, realizing that this would be impossible, he detached his mules and with his utmost efforts was only able to save the team, while every available man had to lend assistance in order to save the two pieces of artillery. In five minutes’ time, perhaps, the water had risen fifteen to eighteen feet, and the banks were full of muddy, rushing water, and remained so as long as we were there. The wagon, which belonged to the quartermaster, was swept off by the tide and lost, with all its contents. It stood in its position until the water rose to the top of the cover, when it floated off. After camping for the night, we moved on. As we were now in the Indian Territory, the young men were all on the look-out for the beautiful Indian girls of whom they had read so much, and I think some of them had waived the matter of engagement before leaving home until they could determine whether they would prefer marrying some of the pretty girls that were so numerous in this Indian country. We had not gone far on our march when we met a Chickasaw damsel. She was rather young in appearance, of medium height, black unkempt hair, black eyes, high cheekbones, and was bare-headed and barefooted. Her dress was of some well-worn cotton fabric, of a color hard to define, rather an earthy color. In style it was of the extreme low neck and short kind, and a semi-bloomer. Of other wearing apparel it is unnecessary to speak, unless you wish a description of another Indian. This one was too sensible to weight herself with a multiplicity of garments in July. She was a regular middle of the roader, as she stuck close to that part of the Territory strictly. As we were marching by twos we separated and left her to that part of the highway which she seemed to like best. She continued her walk westwardly as we continued our march eastwardly, turning her head right and left, to see what manner of white soldiers the Confederate Government was sending out. This gave all an opportunity to glimpse at her charms. Modestly she walked along without speaking to any of us, as we had never been introduced to her. Only one time did I hear her speak a word, and that was apparently to herself. As Lieutenant Daniel passed her with his long saber rattling, she exclaimed, in good English: “Pretty white man!—got big knife!” As we went marching on the conversation became more general; that is, more was said about the beautiful country, the rich lands and fine cattle, and not so much about beautiful Indian girls. But every fellow kept his eye to the front, expecting we would meet scores of girls, perhaps hundreds, but all were disappointed, as this was the only full-blooded Indian we met in the highway from Colbert’s ferry to Fort Smith. The fact is, the Indians shun white people who travel the main road. Away out in the prairie some two hundred yards you will find Indian trails running parallel with the road, and the Indians keep to these trails to avoid meeting the whites. If they chance to live in a hut near the road you find no opening toward the road, and, if approached, they will deny that they can speak English, when, in fact, they speak it readily and plainly. One day I came up with one of our teamsters in trouble. He needed an ax to cut down a sapling, so I galloped back to an Indian’s hut near by, and as there was no enclosure, rode around to the door. The Indian came out and I asked him to lend me an ax a few minutes. He shook his head and said, “Me no intender,” again and again, and this was the only word I could get out of him until I dismounted and picked up the ax, which was lying on the ground near the door. He then began, in good English, to beg me not to take his ax. I carried it to the teamster, however, but returned it to the Indian in a few minutes. There are, or were then, people of mixed blood living along the road in good houses and in good style, where travelers could find entertainment. Numbers of these had small Confederate flags flying over the front gateposts—and all seemed to be loyal to our cause. Two young Choctaws joined one of our companies and went with us, one of them remaining with us during the war, and an excellent soldier he was, too. At Boggy Depot the ladies presented us with a beautiful flag, which was carried until it was many times pierced with bullets, the staff shot in two, and the flag itself torn into shreds. Arriving at Big Blue River, we lost one or two horses in crossing, by drowning. But finally we reached Fort Smith, on a Saturday, remaining there until Monday morning. While in the Choctaw Nation our men had the opportunity of attending an Indian war dance, and added to their fitness for soldiers by learning the warwhoop, which many of them were soon able to give just as real Indians do. Fort Smith, a city of no mean proportions, is situated on the south bank of the Arkansas River, very near the line of the Indian Territory. Another good town, Van Buren, is situated on the north bank of the river, five miles below Fort Smith. While we were at Fort Smith orders came from General McCulloch, then in southwest Missouri, to cut loose from all incumbrances and hasten to his assistance as rapidly as possible, as a battle was imminent. Consequently, leaving all trains, baggage, artillery, all sick and disabled men and horses to follow us as best they could, we left on Monday morning in the lightest possible marching order, for a forced march into Missouri. Our road led across Boston Mountain, through Fayetteville and Cassville, on towards Springfield. Crossing the river at Van Buren, we began the [31] [32] [33] [34]