A History of Lumsden's Battery, C.S.A Part 4

Hargrove grabbed a loose tree branch and struck at Yank's horse which about that time got a bullet from our infantry line and ran away from Hargrove, so that he made it to our new line.

That night we buried Horton near the Franklin pike, where we bivouaced. I cut his name on a head board, and Command to which he belonged.

A detail was sent to the house that had been used as a hospital to bring his body. A long, tall, red-headed private, John Walker, was one of that detail. He had been carrying a great long navy revolver for months for use in such circ.u.mstances. When asked how many times he shot it. He laughed and said it was as much as he could do to persuade himself that he was able to get out with it.

It was about 12 o'clock that Capt. Lumsden sent orderly Sergeant J.

Mack s.h.i.+vers on horseback to report to General Stewart that all Confederate infantry had been driven into the fallen timber at our front, and that it was evident the enemy would soon rush us with a charge. That we could leave the guns and get away with all the men.

s.h.i.+vers returned with the orders, "Tell Captain Lumsden it is necessary to hold the enemy in check to the last minute regardless of losses." This was about 12:30 p.m. They overwhelmed us about 2 p.m.

So that Lumsden's Battery alone had stopped the advance of A. J.

Smith's federal Corps for 3 hours during which Confederate troops had been moved from right wing to a new line behind the Hillsboro pike several hundred yards in our rear, which was all important, to the Confederates.

Moving southward from Nashville battlefield, with the remnant of Hood's army, Lumsden's battery was now but a name for a command of men without arms, with a quota of horses, wagons for commissary and quartermaster's supplies with their drivers, one half its cannoneers having been lost at Nashville, killed wounded and prisoners.

A relation of a few happenings along this dreary march in midwinter the roads, a loblolly of sleet and turnpike dust and grit, may serve to show how Lumsden and his officers maintained discipline without resort to severe or degrading punishment for lapses from duty. Like all volunteer commands, it had in its ranks men from all conditions of life and of various degrees of education from the collegiate down to the illiterate man who could not write his own name. But perhaps one half of the enlisted men or privates were graduates and had started into professional life or had left college to give their services to their country before the end of the university terms. They were gentlemen, and imbued generally with the high sense of honor and devotion to duty usual among boys and men in such social standing. They gave the general tone to the command and the officers were careful to do all possible to keep its moral tone and to impose no punishment that would lower the culprit in his own estimation. They did punish by imposing extra duties for violation of military rules, but always the individual punished as well as all his comrades were perfectly conscious that the punishment was deserved, and therefore necessary. For instance a private had been grumbling for several weeks to his sergeant about putting him on details so often, ignoring the fact that the numerous jobs to be attended to, brought around often to each man, his time to go on detail. One morning this private said something to the sergeant who was at the time cutting up the detachment's cooked beef into equal portions, that pa.s.sed the sergeant's patience. He laid down his knife, got up and faced the man, with the remark: "I've stood your jaw as long as I intend to", and delivered him a blow with his fist between the eyes. Of course things were lively for a while until Lt. Hargrove ran up interfered forcibly between the combatants and ordered them back to the duties on hand. Some nights after the sergeant was standing by the Captain's fire and no one was near, but Capt. Lumsden, who said: "What was the matter with you and ----, the other morning?" "Nothing much, Captain, except he had been grumbling and fussing for some time, whenever his time came to be detailed on a job, and just got so I could not stand it any longer, and determined to put a stop to it." "Well, you've no right to strike any of these men with your fist. If a man is insubordinate, you have a right to shoot him, but not to strike him with your fist." The sergeant laughed and replied: "But it was not bad enough for that, and of course I was not going to shoot him, but I don't think he will need any more." There was never anything more said about it, and the soldier quit grumbling and did his part thereafter, as well as anyone to the end of the war. Another case in point, just after leaving Nashville, a non-commissioned officer had been affected with boils, so that he could not ride horseback for a few days, and it was against orders to ride in the wagons. His boots were split at the counters, the soles were tied to the uppers by strings and he had no socks. The turnpike gritty freezing slush worked into his feet until he could hardly hobble, so he would watch his chance, when no officers eye was on him, and crawl into a wagon and there stay until camp was reached at night when he would crawl out. One night, when he crawled out in a drizzling cold rain, and finding a fire in an old barn on the opposite side of the road, with soldiers of another command, he remained there in comparative comfort all night, and after daylight turned up at the officers fire. Lieut. A. C. Hargrove said to him: "Where were you last night, Sir, after we went into camp?" "I slept in that barn across the road." "Well, we had to send a detail with horses back to the pontoon train, and I wanted to send you in charge of it, but no one could find you anywhere. You have been straggling ever since we left Nashville, and not attending to your duties." "Lieutenant, I've not been straggling, as you think I have. Look at my feet, I could not walk and keep up. I had boils so that I could not ride my horse. The only way I could keep up was to steal rides in a wagon during the day, and that's what I have been doing." "Well, you have not been excused by the surgeon." "No, Sir, I did not want to be sent away from the command." When the Lieut. walked off, the Capt. said: "I'll tell you what's the matter with you. You've got out of heart. You've lost all hope of our winning this fight. It does look black. But the thing for you and me and all the balance of us to do, is to just stand it out to the end. It can't last much longer. That is true. But when it is done, we all of us want to be conscious that we have done our duty from start to finish." "Captain, I've always done all I was able to do, and expect to, until the end comes." "That is true and, we'll hold out to the end."

That was Lumsden's way of controlling his men. He made them feel as if he knew that it was their determination to do their full duty, and the whole tone of the battery was kept up to the standard by the idea. The high standard of its personale was the result not of fear or compulsion, but of individual personal patriotism.

On this retreat it was difficult to find food for the army, and first one command, then another, ran mighty short. Pa.s.sing through a mountainous thinly settled country during Christmas week, our Captain gave a few permits to different individuals to forage off the line of march. One forager heard of some mills along a creek some miles off the line of retreat, and struck out for them horseback. On his arrival at the first, he found it crowded with infantry men, each guarding his sack of wheat, and awaiting his turn to run it through the mill. The miller was there, and was asked if he could sell a sack of wheat. He replied: "these soldiers say they are bound to have all there is, and I help them grind it, to save injury to my mill. The wheat belongs to the neighborhood." "Where is there another mill?" "About three miles down the creek." Off our forager rode. He saw that money nor begging would prevail to get bread and determined on a bluff. The next mill had soldiers claiming all the wheat, but some of it was in boxes or bins.

He called the miller out, and offered to pay for a couple of bushels.

"It is not mine, said the miller, it belongs to people around here, but I had better take even Confederate money for it, than nothing at all, and if you can get a couple of bushels, go ahead." So into the mill our man went, with his sack, and walked up to a box holding perhaps ten bushels, on which sat a soldier with his rifle leaning against the box, with the request: "Let me get at the box, if you please." "You can't get any of this meal, our men need it all", reaching for his gun. "I'll show you about that, Sir, my men have had no bread for three days, and some of this wheat, I'm going to have" and he began shoveling it into his sack, regardless of protests, until sack was full; then he said, "that is all I want," turned to the mill hopper dumped it in, as soon as the same was about empty, putting his sack under the spout. When his sack was full of whole wheat meal, he tied it, paid the miller and rode off rejoicing. When he found the command that night, some hogs had been brought and issued by the commissary, and the two bushels of wheat meal was a G.o.dsend. Our mess, after breakfast next morning, divided out to each, eleven big army biscuits apiece, but before dinner time, one gaunt member of the mess had finished up his lot and was on the lookout for more.

Recrossing the Tennessee river on the ---- day of December near Brainbridge, we camped a few days near Tuka, Mississippi, for rest and a general cleaning up, but many soldiers had no clothing except the ragged suits they had on, and cleaning involved the was.h.i.+ng and drying of a portion of their garments at a time.

A Confederate private at that time could be pictured in words about thus: A pair of old shoes or boots, with soles gaping, and tied to the uppers with strings, no socks, threadbare pants, patched at the knees, burnt out at the bottom behind, half way to his knees, his back calves black with smoke, from standing with his back to fires, his s.h.i.+rt sticking out of holes in rear of his pants, a weather beaten jeans jacket out at elbows and collar greasy, and an old slouch wool hat hanging about his face, with a tuft of hair sticking out at the crown.

The officers, in many cases, did not show up much better. In either case, the man, who had a negro body servant along, fared the best, and was kept clothed the best.

The negro slaves usually had money in their pockets, when their masters had none, that they made serving officers and men in many ways.

The writer's own servant, Jim Bobbett by name, had left his wife on my father's plantation in Tuscaloosa County, Alabama, but had no children.

He was selected from several who desired the place, as being a handy fellow all round. A pure negro, with flat nose, and merry disposition.

From mere love of myself and a determination to see that I should never lack food or clothing, as long as he could obtain the wherewithal to prevent it, he was faithful in that service, just as a Confederate soldier was faithful in the service of the government he was fighting for. He wore a broad flat waterproof belt next to his skin, and scarcely ever had less than $100.00 therein, and often as high as $1,000.00. He was a good barber and clothes cleaner, and a handy man in many ways, and a few weeks stop of the army in camp soon replenished his "bank" and out of it he generally procured what was needed for me or himself or his friends, without any interference or direction from me.

If he got more than he needed, he disposed of his surplus at a profit.

I suppose that if neither a slick tongue nor money would procure necessities, he did not hesitate to "press" them. But his jolly flattering tongue, with the women of his race, along our routes made him their favorite, and when he bade them "goodbye" his "grub" bucket would be filled with the best to be had. When he and his pals were behind, when the wagon train came up, we did not kick, but would turn in, perhaps supperless, to sleep, knowing that some time before day, they would arrive with something to fill us up.

I suppose that some of his cla.s.s did desert to the enemy, but the large majority were true as steel to their masters and their duty, from the beginning to the end, often at great personal risk and none attached to our company ever deserted. They could have done so easily at any time, and been free inside of the enemies' lines, but personal loyalty to their masters and their own people, as they considered their master's families held them cheerfully to their duty. There was no compulsion about it. They struggled and foraged and speculated at their own sweet will, yet all the time, looking out for their master's interests over and above all else.

These facts are some of the strongest proofs, that between masters and slaves of those old days, there were ties as strong as steel, in the close personal relations.h.i.+p that neither forgot. It had its counterpart in the love and service of the old "Mammy" to her master's family and children. She loved them, and delighted to serve and care for them, sometimes to the neglect of her own flesh and blood.

One morning in bivouac, near Tuka, at breakfast, around the officers fire, there was served a fine skillet full of fried pigeons, with gravey and biscuit, washed down with burnt corn coffee. Old "Ike," Lt.

Caldwell's darky had come in during the night from a forage, Lieut Hargrove with the others of the mess, was enjoying the meal when all at once, Hargrove says: "Ike, where did you get these pigeons?" "Oh! Ma.r.s.e Cole, don't you bodded about dat. You eat your breakfast." "Ike, you old rascal, I believe you stole these pigeons, and if I had anything else to eat, I wouldn't eat them." "Dar now, Ma.r.s.e Cole, it's a blessed thing, dat you'se got me and dese udder fellows to look atter dis mess, kaze if it twant for us, you'd go hungry many a time, and dats a fac."

"Well," said another officer, "its a bully old breakfast any how, and we don't know when we'll get such another." From Tuka, the command with its wagons marched to Columbus, Mississippi, where it went into camp near the outskirts of the town. Here, there came down from Corinth, Aleck Dearing and John Bartee, who having been on sick furlough in Tuscaloosa, had missed the Tennessee campaign, with them were some others and also some conscripts among whom was Richard Maxwell, the youngest of the old firm of T. J. R. & R. Maxwell, who had to at last take the field, having served some time in Leach & Avery's hat factory and thus exempt for that time from conscription. This squad of returning men, had charge of boxes of clothing for most of the men in the command and provisions furnished by friends and relatives in Tuscaloosa, which they had gotton up to Corinth with it trying to reach Hood's army, wherever it might be. At Corinth some quartermaster had furnished them a wall tent with "fly" to protect the goods. When ordered to move with the goods from Corinth, down to Columbus, by train, they were ordered to return the tent and fly. But they were too experienced old soldiers for that, so they hustled boxes, tent and all to the train, and came on to Columbus, with the whole lay out. They made a present of the fly to the officers of the company, and kept the tent to protect the goods until distributed, and incidently themselves.

This tent and fly were the only ones left in the company now, as nothing of the kind had been on hand for many a month.

During rains, a blanket stretched over a pole, three feet from the ground, would somewhat shelter three men. When it was not raining, shelter was unnecessary to the hard old veterans.

Once again and for the last time, Lumsden and most of his men got into whole and comfortable clothing. Our new comrade, Richard Maxwell did not hold out long. He had lately married a young wife, and nostalgia got hold of him, he lost all appet.i.te, and was attacked with dysentery, so off he was sent to hospital in Columbus. There he did not improve, and he persuaded the surgeon in charge to order him to report to Tuscaloosa hospital. He soon found friends in Columbus to take him home. The most of Hood's army, that still had arms, were now rushed around by rail, via Meridian, Selma, Montgomery, West Point, Macon and on to North Carolina to Gen. Jos. E. Johnston, once more to try to prevent Sherman's march to the rear of Richmond. Our command having no guns was ordered to report to Gen. Dabney H. Maury, at Mobile, the old drivers now to act as cannoneers, making up sufficient to again man a four or six gun battery in a fort.

At Mobile we were placed temporarily at Battery B., above Mobile in a fort with big cast iron siege guns, commanding a portion of the march.

We were soon well drilled in the handling of siege artillery of this cla.s.s, and also had some practice with small Coehorn mortars, firing at targets out in the marsh. Here, the boys went in for a good time whenever they could get permits to visit down in the city. They would test the restaurants to see what sort of meals Confederate money would still bring in a big city on the sea coast. Fish and oysters were plentiful, as well as eggs and vegetables. But for coffee we had to take whatever subst.i.tute was available. Usually sweet potatoes, okra or sage. For sweetening either long sweetening (mola.s.ses) or short sweetening (a moist clammy dark brown sugar.) For cream, if wanted, a beaten egg answered, but most of us preferred the "coffee" "barefooted and baldheaded," i.e., without cream or sugar, or "straight." Some little new corn whiskey, white as water, could be had also "sub rosa."

Occasionally, at a social call at some private residence, home-made wine from grapes or blackberry might be set before the caller, but real coffee or tea, or white sugar was hardly to be had, for love or money.

One night in company with a mess mate we got permission to go to the city to call on friends. These friends were the family of a commission merchant, who was a friend of our parents, and included an eldest daughter who was quite a noted auth.o.r.ess, extremely well read and learned, and two younger daughters. We found several high officers were also callers, rigged out in their best uniforms, with their proper insigma of rank in golden stars and lacing. We were in our new gray jeans jackets and pants and linsey s.h.i.+rts, lately gotton from home at Columbus. But that did not make any difference at all. We were welcomed, introduced all around, entertained on an equality. In fact one of the higher officers we found to be an old college mate. The officers from Generals to Captains were of course older than we, who were each only about twenty years of age, so that naturally they fell to the older members of the family, while we were entertained by the younger daughters, who were in their "teens." With back gammon checkers and cards the evening pa.s.sed pleasantly. When we boys, who had to foot it two or three miles, made our adieux, the ladies accompanied us to the door, asked us to call on them again and the auth.o.r.ess said, as we were about to leave the door: "I hope you gentlemen will not form an opinion about the meteorology of Mobile, by what you have seen since your arrival." My friend said: "Yes, Madam," and we both bade them all good night. As we walked up the street, my friend said: "Jim, what in the mischief was that she said? Meteor-meteor, what? "Oh" I said: "She meant she hoped we would not think they had this sort of weather here, all the time." "Oh, shucks; I could not make it out."

A few days after, Gen. Maury held a review of his army on Government Street. We were ordered in. We had in our company, several soldiers, who had neither coat nor pants. They were down to s.h.i.+rts and drawers, as nothing had come to them from Tuscaloosa, they being from another section. Capt. Lumsden sent for them and told them he would not insist on their going on parade, in that condition, but that if they would, he did not doubt, that it would result in getting them some clothing. They decided to go. So, when the parade was formed on Government Street, for Gen. Maury's inspection, these men showed up in the front rank, and caught the General's eye. He rode up to Lumsden and asked: "Captain, what does that mean, those men in ranks, in that condition?" "They have no clothing, Sir, but what they have on, and I have exhausted all means to obtain it, by requisition after requisition." "Can't you think of some way, Captain?" "If you will allow me to detail a man to go to Tuscaloosa, I do not doubt we can get all the clothes needed, in some way." "All right, Captain, make the detail, I will endorse it, approved." "Thank you, Sir, we will attend to it at once."

On return to camp, Capt. Lumsden had orders written for the writer to proceed to Tuscaloosa on this business and started the papers up to headquarters in regular channel.

But about March 20th, we were sent over to Spanish Fort, on the Eastern sh.o.r.e of Mobile river or rather Spanish river as the eastern channel is called, by steamer. We were placed in charge of an angle, at about the center of the fortified semi-circle that const.i.tuted the Fort, armed with 4 six pounder field guns. They seemed like pop guns in comparison with the 12 pounder Napoleons, that we had handled so long.

We planted our front pretty thoroughly with mines, consisting of large sh.e.l.ls buried with caps that would explode at the touch of a foot on a trigger, and we awaited the approach of the Federal force that had been landed below.

On March 26th, he arrived before us entrenched and we had several lively artillery duels while he was so doing.

By April 4th, he had in position 38 siege guns, including six 20 lb.

rifles, 16 mortars and 37 field guns, when he opened fire at 5:00 a.m., and continued until 7:00 a.m., and so continued on April 5th, 6th and 7th. On April 8th, he had 53 siege guns in position, and 37 field guns.

Closer and closer, came the parallels, each morning finding the Federal trenches closer than the day before, until any exposure of any part of the body, of either Yank or Confederate, would draw several bullets, men standing with rifles at shoulder beneath the head logs and finger on trigger, ready to fire at the least motion shown on opposite entrenchment.

We were furnished, each man with a rifle, as well as our artillery, and our shoulders got sore with the continued kick of the firing. We were moved once along the line nearer the river on the northern line of the Fort.

Here, Lieut. A. C. Hargrove, received the bullet that remained somewhere in his head during the balance of his life.

That afternoon the orders detailing the writer to go to Tuscaloosa came back from headquarters, they were handed to him, and he was ordered to start at once to get the boat that would leave that night. This ended the writer's personal experience in Lumsden's battery. They evacuated with the garrison of the night of April and were transported over to Mobile, wading out into the Bay to meet the relieving boat.

This practically ended the service of the command, which was transported by rail to Meridian and was part of the last organized command surrendered by Gen. d.i.c.k Taylor with his Department on the 4th day of May, 1865.

There they went into service near Mobile, and after four years of active service in Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky and Georgia, they were disbanded near the scene of their first service.