Memoirs of a Veteran Who Served as a Private in the 60's in the War Between the States Personal Incidents, Experiences and Observations

General Robinson, in appreciation of our having named the Company in his honor presented the organization with $1,000.00, which money was applied in uniforming us.

The following members formed the composite of said Company, and Robert Martin, known as "Bob Martin" from Barnwell, S. C., was elected Captain. See appendix E.

The writer was appointed bugler with rank of Sergeant.

That night after supper, it being moon-light, Mr. A. J. Linville a North Carolinian, a school teacher boarding at my lodging proposed to me as I performed on the flute, he being a violinist, to have some music on the water. He then explained that water is a conductor of sound and that one could hear playing on it for a long distance and music would sound a great deal sweeter and more melodious than on land. The Ogeechee River ran within a couple of hundred yards from the house. There was on the bank and close to the bridge a party of gentlemen fishing, having a large camp fire and prepared to have a fish-fry, so Linville and myself took a boat that was moored above the bridge and quietly, unbeknown to anybody paddled about 1¼ mile up stream, expecting to float down with the current. Although it was the month of May the night was chilly enough for an overcoat. Linville and myself struck up a tune, allowing the boat to float along with the current, the oar laying across my lap. Everything was lovely, the moon was shining bright and I enjoyed the novelty of the surroundings and the music, when an over-hanging limb of a tree struck me on the neck. Wishing to disengage myself, I gave it a shove, and away went the boat from under me and I fell backwards into the stream in 12 feet of water. To gain the surface I had to do some hard kicking, my boots having filled with water and my heavy overcoat kept me weighted down.

When reaching the surface after a hard struggle my first observation was for the boat which was about 50 yards below, Linville swinging to a limb. I called him to meet me, and he replied that he had no oar, that I kicked it out of the boat. The banks on each side were steep and my effecting a landing was rather slim. I spied a small bush half-way up the embankment, I made for it perfectly exhausted, I grabbed it, the bank was too steep and slippery to enable me to land, so I held on and rested and managed to disembarrass myself of the overcoat and told Linville to hold on, that I was coming. I could not get my boots off, so I made an extra effort to reach him anyhow, as the current would assist me by being in my favor, so I launched off. I reached the boat perfectly worn out. I do not think I could have made another stroke. After a little breathing spell and by a tremendous effort I hoisted myself into the boat, but not before it dipped some water.

On our way I picked up my discarded overcoat and a piece of a limb which served as a rudder to guide the boat to a successful landing, and thus ended the music on the water.

We went to the house, changed our clothes and returned, mingling with the fishermen and kept all the fun we had to ourselves. They all made a fine catch and there was fish a plenty for all. Linville and myself enjoyed the repast, as the physical exercise we had just undergone sharpened our appetite.

A few days later we rendezvoused at Sandersville, and the Company left for Savannah, our camp of instruction. Under the tuition of Jacobi, leader of the band of the 32nd Georgia, W. H. Harrison's Regiment, I soon learned all the calls and commands.

While thus engaged the Company had a gross misunderstanding with Capt. Martin, who, before coming in contact with the members of his command, was an entire stranger to them. Most all were ignorant of military duties, but strictly honest and patriotic citizens. Capt. Martin was a strict disciplinarian and putting the screws on rather a little too tight placed him into disfavor with the men, who petitioned him to resign, otherwise they would prefer charges against him. Thus matters stood when I returned to camp. Martin was tried before a board and exonorated. To revenge himself upon those who were active in his persecution he reduced those that were non-commissioned officers to ranks and appointed others in their stead; and to make matters more galling, appointed a substitute, a mercenary as orderly Sergeant over a Company of volunteers, who solely served their country through patriotism. Ned Irwin, when elevated to the position he was, proved himself a worthy tool in the hand of his promoter. Men could not express an opinion on hardly any subject without being reported, he would sneak about in the dark, crouch behind a tent evesdropping and make report as unfavorably as he could to bring the individual into disfavor. He made himself so obnoxious that he did not have a friend in the whole Company, and when he died at Yazoo City, you could hear freely expressed the following sentiment: "Poor old Ned is dead, thank God this saves some good men of having to kill him."

When I returned to camp I presented myself before Capt. Martin who examined me as to my proficiency as a bugler. I said, "Captain, there has been quite some changes made since I have been away," he said, "Yes, the men have accused me of speculating on their rations." I said I was very sorry that such a state of affairs existed among officers and men, where harmony ought to prevail; he said he insisted that those charges be substantiated and demanded a court martial, who on hearing the facts cleared him of any criminality, so he punished the leaders of the gang by reducing them to ranks.

Capt. Martin, however, proved himself a capable officer in handling artillery and the men finally came to love him on account of his efficiency and fairness.

While in camp of instructions in Savannah, the Government furnished us with six brass pieces (2 Howitzer and 4 Napoleon) with the necessary accoutrement and horses and we were ordered to Bryan County in support of Fort McAllister. We went into camp by the side of the Ogeechee River, about three miles this side of the Fort, which camp we named "Camp McAllister." The fort was an earth structure, strongly constructed with redoubts and parapets. The magazine underground was strongly protected by heavy timbers, and so was what we called bomb-proof, for the men not actually engaged, but who were ready to relieve those who were, or became disabled under fire and exposure, and compelled to be at their post of duty. Short reliefs were necessary, for it is hard work to manage heavy seige guns, but the heaviest in that fort were only of forty-two caliber. For some time nothing of importance worth to chronicle happened; the boys attended to their regular camp life duty, roll calls and drills; those off duty went fishing along the river banks.

The country surrounding was low, flat, marshy and replete with malarial fever, so that we had to remove our camp several miles further up the river, but still within close call of the fort. This new camp was called "Camp Arnold," in honor of Doctor Arnold, on whose land we stationed. One morning I was ordered to blow the call, only one man, Sergeant Cox, reported. All the rest of the command were down with chills and fever. There was no quinine to be had, owing to the blockade, such medicines being considered by our adversaries as contraband of war. Men tried every remedy possible, even drank cottonseed tea, at the suggestion of a country physician by the name of Dr. Turner, who pronounced it as a good substitute (it was in taste if not in efficiency). The writer was also stricken with the disease, and was sent to Whitesville Hospital, about thirty miles from Savannah on the Central of Georgia Railroad. Dr. Whitehead was in charge of the same, and Madam Cazzier and her daughter from New Orleans were matrons. During my fever spells I would rave sometimes and not having been in this country over three years in all, my friends predominated over the English language. Madam Cazzier, who spoke French also, took a great interest in me; in fact, she was strictly interested in all the patients, but she seemed to be a little partial to myself, and spent some time by my bedside when the fever was off, and would tell me what I said during my delirium. She nursed me and devoted on me a motherly care, for which I shall always remain thankful. My recuperation was rapid, and I soon felt myself again.

One morning it was announced that General Mercer of Savannah, and the Board of Inspectors were to come on a round of inspection, when we heard heavy firing, the sounds coming from the east. Presently we heard that the enemy with a large fleet was attacking Fort McAllister. General Mercer and his Board had come up from Savannah on a special train. He called for all convalescent, able to fight to volunteer to go to the front. I presented myself; I was the only one. We cut loose the locomotive and one car and went flying to Savannah at the rate of a mile a minute, crossed the City in a buss at full speed to the Gulf Depot, now known as the S. F. & W., just in time to board the train to Way Station, twelve miles from Savannah. An ambulance carried us to the Fort; the whole distance from the hospital to the Fort was about fifty-two miles. We changed conveyances three times and arrived at destination in less than two hours. Capt. Martin was in charge of a Mortar Detachment, so I reported to him for duty, but my place had been taken, and the detachment was complete, hence he had no use for me. I learned that Major Galley, the Commander of the Fort, had been killed by the first shot from the enemy's guns, which penetrated a sixteen foot embankment, knocked off the left hand trunnion of a thirty-two pounder, and struck the Major above the ear, and took off the top of his head, so Captain Anderson, of the Savannah Blues, took command. Captain Martin sent me up the River to a band about half a mile to the rear, which position placed me at a triangle point to the Fort and the gun boats. I was instructed to notice the effect of our shots on the enemy's boats. I kept tally sheets as to the hits between the belligerent points. From my observation I counted seventy-five hits by the guns of the Fort, and one hundred and seventy-five hits by those of the boats, which raised a cloud of dust equal to an explosion of a mine. Their caliber being three hundred and seventy-five pounders, and fifteen inches in diameter, while our shots merely made a bright spot where they struck the heavy armoured vessels and ricochet beyond. While thus observing I noted a strange move of one of the boats, suddenly I saw an immense flash, and a splash in the river a couple of yards in front of me. The water being very clear, we noted a large projective at the bottom of the stream, evidently aimed at me, as it was in direct line, as I sat on my horse; undoubtedly they must have taken me for a commanding officer and thus paid me their res— I mean disrespect.

A concourse of people in the neighborhood gathered to observe this unequal artillery duel of five armoured gun boats and eleven wooden mortar boats hidden behind a point below the Fort, sending their projectiles like a shower of aerolites into and around the Fort. Undaunted, the boys stood by their guns, having the satisfaction to notice one of the armoured vessels break their line and floating down the River, evidently having been struck in some vital part, and thus placed hors de combat. This bombardment continued from early morning until near sundown, when the enemy withdrew, we giving them parting shots as they steamed down to their blockade station, lying in wait for the Nashville, a blockade runner, who plyed between Nassau, and any Confederate Port, which it might enter with goods, easily disposed of at remunerative prices. The Fort was badly dilapidated, our breastworks had been blown to atoms, the guns exposed to plain view, all port holes demolished, the barracks injured by fire, which the boys extinguished while the battle was raging; in fact, had a cyclone struck the Fort in its full majestic force, it could not have been worse. However, that night we pressed into service all the negroes on the rice plantations. Spades, shovels and pick axes were handled with alacrity; baskets, bags and barrels were filled, the enfeebled portions of the Fort were reinforced by working like Trojans all night long, and the Fort was again placed in a presentable condition.

Early the following morning, when the enemy again appeared, undoubtedly to take possession, as the Fort would have been untenable in the condition they left it the previous evening, we opened fire on them, but they had seen what had been done during the night, saw at once that we were not disposed to give up; they withdrew without even returning our fire, and the boys would remark, they are treating us with silent contempt.

For awhile we enjoyed repose and the luxuries of the season at the Southern sea-coast, hunting squirrels, rabbits and fishing, getting leave of absence to visit home for a few days, when one day the report reached us that the enemy effected a landing at Killkanee, some distance below us and to our right. The battery was called out and we took up the line of march to meet the enemy. We camped that night near a church, when we were informed that the enemy's demonstration was against a small salt works, an enterprising citizen having erected a small furnace with a half a dozen boilers, in which he boiled sea water to obtain salt, which, at that time, was selling at a dollar a pound by the hundred pound sack. The Company returned to camp.

About ten days later word came late one afternoon that the enemy is making for Pocotalico, a small station on the Savannah and Charleston Railroad, intending to burn a long range of trestle on said road. Two detachments were sent to that place by post haste, arriving in time to place themselves in position, in as quiet a way as possible. At about ten o'clock P. M. we heard a very noisy demonstration to our right, through the marshes of the swamps; many torches became visible. They undoubtedly expected the place to be unprotected; when they came within full range we sent canister and schrapanel into the ranks; they fell back in confusion, leaving dead and wounded behind. This expedition started out from Beauford, S. C., then in possession of the enemy. One dark night the tide being up, the Nashville loaded with cotton attempted to run the gauntlet of the blockaders. On the turn of the river just opposite the Fort, the River Ogechee being about a mile wide, the vessel run aground on a sand bank, and was unable to extricate itself. The enemy being on the lookout, spied her position and came within firing distance; the Fort fired at them furiously, but they paid no attention to us, but concentrated their fire on the steamer Nashville with hot shots and soon had her in flames. The crew jumped overboard and swam ashore like ducks. The steamer was burned and completely destroyed. I was again taken with chills and fever and sent home by way of Dr. Whitehead's hospital. Sergeant Hines also came home to recuperate, when one morning I suggested to have an egg-nog. Cousin Abe was a merchant before the war, and still kept a store at Fenns Bridge, but the store had but few remnants in it. He only kept such goods as people were willing to dispose of in the way of exchange, for something else, and among his stock, he had a barrel of corn whiskey. I said, "Bill, if you furnish the eggs, I will furnish the sugar and whiskey; my chill will be on at eleven o'clock; we have an hour yet and kill or cure, I'm going to drink nog. It may help me." Dr. Whitehead had supplied me with a vial of Fowler's Solution, which was nearly exhausted, and which had done me no good. Sergeant Hines came up, brought a dozen eggs and we made a nog. At ten thirty A. M. I took the first goblet, he made it tolerably strong. I replenished and enjoyed the contents, and as we were sipping it quietly, I looked at my watch and was surprised to see it was fifteen minutes past eleven and no chill. We slowly finished the third glass, I felt the effects of it somewhat, but we were not intoxicated. At twelve o'clock the dinner bell rang at the house, and it was the first time in two weeks that I was able to partake of that meal, the chills always interfering. I never had another chill in twenty years thereafter, hence I never became a prohibitionist. I believe the abuse of whiskey is wrong, while its proper use is right. Sergeant Hines and myself, after a few days longer among our friends, returned to our camp.

CHAPTER XI

The following incident caused a rupture of friendship between Lieutenant Evan P. Howell and myself, which made military service unnecessarily harder on me, owing to our respective ranks. One night, it was on a Saturday, I had occasion to get up, it was late. I passed the sentinel on post number one, and recognized William Tolson on duty. I passed the usual greeting of "Hello! Bill, how do you do," "O, Ike, I'm so sick. I've one of the hardest chills on me I ever had." "Why don't you call the Corporal of the Guard, and get relief?" He replied, he wished I would call him, so I called "Corporal of the Guard, post number one." Corporal William O'Quinn came up to see what's up. I said, "Corporal, Tolson is sick and ought to be relieved." Presently the Corporal returned from headquarters, saying the officers are all gone over to Patterson, they were having a dance at the Quartermaster's, Major Cranston, and there is no one at headquarters but Dr. Stevenson who is drunk, and I can't get any sense out of him. When I told him that one of the men were sick, he said "You see that puppy, is he not the finest you have ever seen?" having reference to a small dog he fondled. Finding out that I can't get any relief, I came back, so I told Tolson to go in and I would stand guard in his place. Tolson was a good soldier, he was a native Englishman, and when he got over his chill he was loud in his denunciation as to his treatment, so he was punished for having spoken derogatory about the officers and condemned to wear ball and chain for twenty-four hours. This was the first time that I knew there was such a thing as a ball and chain in camp for the punishment of man. The following Monday night, the writer having found out all about the particulars and the doings at the Quartermaster's, wrote up a program of intoxication at Granston Hall, Saturday night, March 1863. I treated the matter more of a burlesque than otherwise, and wound up in these words: "That's the way Confederate whiskey goes, pop goes the Government." Captain Martin was off and Lieutenant Howell was in command. Lieutenants Bland and Roberson laughed over the matter and took it good naturedly. W. N. Harmon was the only man in the Company who saw me write the article, and when finished I read it to him. He pronounced it a good joke and asked me what I was going to do with it. I said, "I am going to stick it up on the big pine where general orders are posted, so that the men can read it after reveille call," so he made some lightwood pegs, and we went together and posted it. The article was not signed, and was written in a round handwriting. The men enjoyed it and laughed a great deal over it, when Sergeant Fulford came up and tore down the paper, and carried it to the officer's tent. They inquired, what is the matter, what are the men laughing about. He presented the paper. Lieutenant Howell, after reading it, got raving mad, while Lieutenants Roberson and Bland took it good naturedly. Lieutenant Howell was determined to find out the author, so during the day he took up the men by fours and swore them on the Bible, if they knew who wrote the paper. I was at the station on that day and was absent. When I returned to my mess, they told me what was going on, and that Lieutenant Howell was trying to find out who wrote that article, so I said, "Bill," meaning William Harmon, "He took up the wrong men; if he had called on me I would have saved him that trouble". He answered, "Well, what will you do?" "Well, you don't believe that I would swear to a lie?" I got up saying, "I will satisfy his curiosity," and up to his tent I went. He was sitting in a chair smoking. "Good evening Lieutenant," says I. "I understand that you are very anxious to know who wrote that paper Sergeant Fulford submitted for your inspection. I can give you all the information you require." Lieutenant Howell at once brightened up and became all smiles. "You know—who did it?" "Your humble servant." In a twinkling his countenance changed. He became pale with rage, working himself into a passion, and very peremptorily ordered me to stand at attention. I at once planted my heels together to form a perfect angle, placed my little fingers along the seams of my pantaloons, my arms extending at full length, my body erect, facing my superior officer. I humbly remarked, "Will that do?"—"What did you do it for?"—"You had your fun, am I not entitled to have some?"—"You made false charges; you said we drank Government whiskey. I want you to understand what liquor we drank we bought and paid for it." "Well, Lieutenant, I have not accused anybody; not even mentioned a single name, but if the cap fits you, you can wear it. I have nothing to retract." By that time, Howell was surely mad. "I-I-I reduce you to ranks! I put you on double duty for thirty days and to wear ball and chain." "Is that all?" "Lieutenant, I volunteered in the Confederate army to do my full duty, as I always have done, in regard to duty; you only can put me on every other day, but when it comes to degrading me by making me wear ball and chain, I give you fair notice that I will kill any man who attempts to place the same on my limbs," and I made my exit, going to my mess-mates. "Well, how did you come out?" the boys asked me. I related what had passed between Lieutenant and I. William Harmon, then said, "Did you tell him that I helped you stick it up?" I said, "No, I shouldered the whole responsibility. What good would it do to implicate you?" "Well you shall not be the only one to do double duty," and off he went to tell Lieutenant Howell that he also had a hand in it, and consequently he was also condemned to double duty for thirty days. "Did he also tell you to wear ball and chain?" Harmon said "No."

That night, I slept, as the saying is, with one eye open. I had my pistol within easy reach, and my sabre by my side. No attempt however, was made to chain me. The following morning I was called for guard duty. I took my post, carrying my sabre across my neck, bear fashion. My post was in full view of the officers' headquarters. When Lieutenant Howell sent Sergeant Hines to me to tell me if I didn't carry my sabre at "Carry Sabre," he would keep me on four hours instead of two. Having been the bugler of the Company I was never instructed how to carry sabre. "Sergeant, can't you teach me how?" Hines remarked, "I know you know better how to handle a sabre than anyone in camp. I have seen you and Hoffman fight at Laurel Hill. I tell you, I have been on duty all night and I would like to go to sleep. This may be fun to you, but not to me, just now." I said, "Well Bill, go ahead," so I carried my sword to suit his Excellency, the commanding officer.

Later in the day J. J. Sheppard came to me saying, "Ike, Lieutenant Howell told me that I was appointed bugler in your place." "Well, sir, I congratulate you on your promotion." "He said for me to ask you for the bugle." I said, "All right Sheppard," I took the bugle and broke it in halves and handed it to Sheppard. He looked astonished—I remarked, "That instrument is private property and belongs to me, my money paid for it, and I have a right to handle it as I please, not meaning any disrespect to you, Sheppard." The following day, word came in camp for volunteers to handle siege pieces in Charleston, S. C. The enemy making heavy demonstration against that City. The Company sent men they could spare, among whom I formed a contingent part. My detachment was placed in the battery in charge of a heavy siege gun. The people of that City treated us royally and brought us plenty of provisions besides what we got from the commissary. We remained there a couple of weeks. The whole business turned out to be a fiasco, and we returned back to our camps. It was one of the most pleasant periods I have enjoyed during the whole war. I was again called on duty when I remarked, "This comes around pretty often." The Sergeant remarked, "You have to finish your sentence." I at once went to headquarters and met Lieutenant Howell and said, "Do you intend to make me finish the penalty you imposed on me?" "To be sure, I do," was his reply. "Well, you can't do it after you accepted my services for Charleston," and I demanded a court-martial before I would finish it. Afterwards Sergeant Hines came from headquarters, saying, "Howell said, Ike got me," "I have no right to inflict a continuance of punishment after accepting his services in some other direction, but confound him, I'll get even with him." Thus matters stood, when some fine day the ball and chain was missing, no one knew what became of it, but somewhere in the middle of the Ogeechee River some two hundred yards below Camp Arnold, it may be found now, having rested there these forty six years.