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

On the eighth of May we were ordered to Mississippi. We went by the way of Columbus, Ga., arriving there about three o'clock P. M. The ladies had prepared a fine spread for us at the depot. The men were hungry. Capt. F. G. Wilkins being mayor of the City, Mayor Wilkins was Captain of the Columbus Guards, Company B, First Regiment, Georgia Volunteers, and on his return home, after his severe experience of one year's military service, he preferred civil service as more congenial to his feelings. He was a brave and fearless soldier. At Carricks Ford, he and twelve of his men got mixed in with the Yankees, who at that time wore also grey uniforms. They were Ohio troops. Captain Wilkins on seeing his dilemma, formed his men into line, then into column making them go through evolutions, and manual of arms, and marched them to the rear, and out of the Yankee columns without being suspicioned or receiving a scratch. Such coolness is not often exhibited on a danger line, and Captain Wilkins reached Monterey long before any of the Regiment did, and saved himself and his men a great deal of hardship.

When alighting from the train and seeing all those good things prepared for us, I at once took my position. A lady remarked, "Help yourself." I took hold of a piece of fowl, and as I was about to take a bite, someone struck me on the arm with such force that the piece of fowl dropped out of my hand, and someone said, "Those things are not for you." It was Mayor Wilkins. He was glad to see me, and said, "I have something better for you, boys. How many of the First Georgia are here? Get them all together and follow me." We were about a dozen of the old Washington Rifles. He conducted us to a room where we met a committee of gentlemen. After the usual shaking hands and introductions, we passed into another chamber. I never beheld a more bountiful and artistically prepared spread. Provisions arranged on a revolving table, shelved to a pyramid, and loaded with delicious wines. In a corner of the room was a table covered with case liquors of every description, and some fine cigars. I was astonished, I had no idea such delicacies could have been gotten in the whole Confederacy. We surely did enjoy the hospitality of that Committee. Mayor Wilkins introduced me to a Mr. Rothschild, saying, "I want you to take good care of him, he is a splendid fellow." Turning to me he said, "Hermann, I want you to stay all night with this gentleman, he will treat you all right." I said, "Captain Wilkins, I can't leave camps without a permit, and myself and Captain Howell are not on such terms as for me to ask him for any favors." "Well, I'll arrange that, you come along." Captain Wilkins said to Howell, "I want Ike to go home with my friend here," designating Mr. Rothschild. Captain Howell said, "You'll have to be here by seven o'clock, A. M. The train will leave at that time." Mr. Rothschild spoke up, saying, "I'll have him here on time." I was royally treated; the lady of the house and daughter played on the piano and sang. I joined in the chorus 'till late in the night, when I was shown to my room, nicely furnished, a nice clean feather bed and all the requisites for comfort, but I could not sleep, I did not lay comfortable. The two years service I had seen, made a feather bed rather an impediment to my repose, having become accustomed to sleep out doors on the hard ground, with my knapsack as a pillow, so I got up, put my knapsack under my head and lay by the side of the bed on the carpet, and slept like a log the balance of the night; so soundly, that I did not hear the negro boy who was sent to my room to blacken my boots, open the door, but I heard a noise like someone slamming the door and I heard someone running down stairs. I heard many voices talking, and someone coming up stairs, opening the door very unceremoniously, I looked—there was Mr. Rothschild,—greatly astonished and laughing, he could hardly talk. Finally he said, "What in the world made you lay on the floor." I explained to him that being no longer used to sleeping on a bed, I could not rest until I got on the hard floor. Then he told me he had sent up a boy to blacken my boots, who had scared them all by telling them that the man up stairs had fallen off of the bed and lay dead on the floor. I took my ablution, and went down to breakfast, all enjoying that I was still able to do justice to the meal that my kind host and hostess set before me. After many thanks and good byes to Mr. and Mrs. Rothschild and the family, Mr. Rothschild and myself went down to the train, which was in waiting. Everything was soon ready and we departed for Mobile, Ala. At Greenville, Ala., I met General W. H. T. Walker for the first time. Martin's battery was assigned to his brigade. Captain Martin was promoted to Major, and Chief of Staff of General Walker's brigade, and Lieutenant Evan P. Howell, by right of seniority, took his place as Captain. From Mobile, we went to Jackson, Miss., one section of two cannons were left behind under charge of Lieutenant Robson. The balance arrived at destination at about three o'clock P. M., May 12th, 1863. We unloaded the pieces at once, and all the accoutrements, all the horses and harnessed them up without the loss of any time, took up the line of march towards Raymond Springs. The weather was very warm and the road of red clay was very dusty for men marching in columns. The dust would rise like clouds of ashes at every step. It must be remembered that it was ration day, but we had no time to draw any. As we advanced, we met General Gists' Brigade just out of a fight with General Grant's forces, who landed at Port Gibson, on his forward move to Vicksburg. General Gist had several prisoners. Among them was a Captain. I spoke to him and asked him about the strength of Grant's army. Of course, I did not expect a truthful answer. He replied, "If you'll keep on in the direction you are going, you will meet him. He is not so very far, ahead of you, and when you do meet him, you will think he has more than enough to eat you all up." Well, he did tell the truth, and it has been our misfortune all through the war to fight against many odds. We kept advancing, when of a sudden the command was ordered to halt. We formed ourselves into battery, and I was placed in charge of a detachment. General Walker ordered me to follow him. About two hundred yards ahead the road took a sudden turn around the bluff, which commanded a straight stretch of about a mile. General Walker ordered me to unlimber my gun and place it in position, so as to command that road, and ordered me to fire into any cavalry that might appear. At the further end of my view was a water mill. I remarked, "General, had I not better let them advance somewhat, so as not to waste too much ammunition?" "You must use your own judgment," said he. Looking about me, I saw no infantry in close proximity, so I ventured to ask him where my support was. He answered, "Support Hell!—If they charge you, fight them with the hand spikes, don't you never leave this post," and left.

Mr. James F. Brooks acted as my No. 1. I asked him if he had made his will, if not, he had better, as we were there to stay. We watched with all our eyes, we saw no enemies. Just about dark, we were ordered to limber up, and double quick to the rear, for about a mile, the enemy having taken another route and we were in danger of being cut off. Weary and footsore, having marched about ten miles that afternoon, we retraced our steps within about three miles of Jackson, hungry and thirsty, we marched on, large oaks bordered the road at places and the roots protruded above the surface of the ground; having on a pair of shoes, left foot number six for a number 8 foot, while my right shoe was a number 10 brogan, I crammed cotton in shoe number 10 to prevent too much friction and cut off the end of number 6 to avoid the painful sensation of being cramped, but misfortunes never come single—the night became dark and it threatened to rain. I stumbled over one of those protruding roots and tore off half of my unprotected toe nail on my left foot, a most excruciating and painful sensation. I did not swear, because I was speechless. I mounted the caisson, our horses were jaded, had had no food nor water that day, but managed to get into camp. Dr. Stewart, our surgeon was left at Jackson, with a few of our command who were sick. W. J. Bell was our ambulance driver. He drove me to Dr. Stewart's camp to dress my wound that night. I was all O. K. next morning, when the ball opened after day break. Our pickets announced the enemy's advance. The skirmishes then came into play and kept the advance at some bay for some time, our forces placing themselves in position to receive them in due form. We were five thousand strong, while the enemy numbered twenty-five thousand. At about eleven A. M. orders came from our right to left to fall back, and we gradually withdrew, putting on our prolongs, and firing occasionally as we retraced our steps. When the fight first opened I was in the rear, as stated, on account of my foot, but after being dressed and hearing the firing, I made for the front, and reported to Captain Howell for duty, while he was in line of battle on the extreme left. He said his detachment was complete, to report to the next. Having only four pieces of artillery in action, two under charge of Lieutenant Robson not having yet arrived, they were placed along the front about two hundred yards apart, all had full working force. I retraced my steps and so reported to the Captain, saying, "Well, Captain, there being no use for me here, I shall go to the rear to protect myself and watch the progress of the fight, should there be any casualties in the Company I'll take their place—no use for me to be here unless I can be of some service." Up to that time the skirmish line was still contending for every inch of the ground. Captain Howell says to me, "You stay here, and act as my orderly. I'm hoarse anyhow, and you have a good voice and can repeat my orders and commands," so I was installed by the side of the Captain. The ground on which we stood was a gradual incline, while that of the enemy was about on a level with us, leaving a sort of a basin or valley between both lines. It was a novel sight to see our skirmishers contending every inch of the ground before an overwhelming force, to see them load and fire, and gradually falling back, facing the advancing foe. When suddenly they emerged from the woods, where they were concealed, and advanced in platoon form, sending their deadly missiles into our thin skirmishers ranks. I said, "This is more than our men can stand, let me throw a shell over their heads, into their ranks." He answered, "Do so, but don't shoot our men." "No danger," said I. I depressed the bridge of my piece, raising the muzzle about four fingers. No. four pulled the laniard. It had a good effect, and resulted in stopping their advance, and thus enabled our skirmishers to come in. My fire also gave them our position and distance. They at once formed a battery in front of us. I aimed a second shot at a white horse. Captain Howell watching its effect. I being behind the gun, the smoke prevented me from so doing, when he said, "You got him." I soon found out that I had done some damage and that my range was accurate, for they centered their fire of several pieces against my own. One of their shots passed over my gun and knocked off its sight, passed between the detachment, striking the caisson lid in the rear and staving it in, and thus preventing us for a few minutes in replying. We had to break it open with the hand spikes to get ammunition. They undoubtedly thought that we were irreparably silenced, and paid their respects to some other part of our line, but we resumed business again, and they came back at us. I saw a ball rolling on the ground, about six feet to my right. It seemed to be about the same caliber as ours. It rolled up a stump, bouncing about fifteen feet in the air. I thought it was a solid shot and wanting to send it back to them through the muzzle of our gun, I ran after it. It proved to be a shell, as it exploded, and a piece of it struck my arm. It was a painful wound, but not serious. Another ball struck a tree about eight inches in diameter, knocked out a chip, which struck my face and caused me to see the seven stars in plain day light and very near got a scalp of Captain Howell, who stood behind that tree. Orders came for Captain Howell to fall back. He asked me to inform Major Martin, who was in command of the piece at the extreme right, that he was falling back. I had to traverse the whole front of our line. I took the color bearers' horse, a fine animal. We named him Stonewall. The enemy's fire was rather high, as they came up the incline and the balls rattled through the tree tops like hail. It commenced raining very hard. I dismounted and took it afoot. On my way passing the third section, Sim Bland, who acted as number 6, and whose duty it was to carry the ammunition from the caisson and to hand it to No. 2 who inserts it in the muzzle of the gun, while No. 1 rammed it home. As I crossed him at a trot, I remarked, "Sim, this is hot time." Before he could reply, a solid cannon ball had struck him. Poor fellow, he did not know what hit him, for he was dead. His whole left side entirely torn to pieces.

The enemy was now advancing more rapidly, as our whole line had given away. On my return I found my horse also shot down. I was trying to save the body of Bland, but couldn't get the assistance needed. I went through his pockets and took what he had therein and gave it to his brother, Lieutenant Bland. The enemy pushed me so close I had to take to the woods in my immediate rear, the trees of which somewhat protected me from the enemy's fire. About a hundred yards further I found Sergeant Newsome with his gun and a detachment, trying to make for the public road leading to Jackson. He had managed so far to drive his command evading the trees of the forest, when suddenly he was confronted by a plank fence which stood perfectly erect, not a plank missing and about five feet high. He ordered the horses cut out of the harness, and was about to abandon his guns, when I hollered, "No Sergeant, don't do it! Ride through between the posts, they are wide enough apart, knock down the planks." I put myself in action and kicked against the planks, when the whole panel fell over, carrying several others with it, for all the posts were completely rotten at the ground, and thus I saved this piece of artillery and probably the men. We reached the road and marched in column. It was raining hard and every man was soaked to the skin. The column halted, having fallen back about a half a mile, firing as they went, when again we formed in line of battle. I was very tired, and sat down by the road side. When called again into action, I found that I could not use my arm, and that the leaders of my leg had contracted at my groins. The enemy had again outflanked us, and the men lifted me on a caisson.

The horses stalled. The road being very muddy, the men had to assist at the wheel to pull the carriages out of the mud, by using all their efforts, so I had to get down, for I felt that after all the gun would have to be abandoned, and I did not care to be taken prisoner, but General Joseph E. Johnston made a stand a little further on, until the Yankees outflanked him again. Major Martin happened to be just passing me on his horse. I begged him to take me behind him, as I could not walk. He answered, "It is impossible, we are going to make another stand. Get in the ambulance." When the ambulance came in sight, it was full to overflow with wounded and dying. The Major again rode up. I said "Major Martin, can't you get me out of my difficulty," he replied, "Hermann, do the best you can to take care of yourself. If they capture you, I will have you exchanged as soon as possible." Poor consolation, I thought, but I was determined not to be taken if I possibly could help it, so I started towards Jackson, taking the edge of the woods, first on account of the mud, then as somewhat of a protection from the bullets. My locomotion was slow, from eight to ten inches was the longest strides I was able to make, and this with excruciating pains. Presently our forces rushed past me and formed again into line of battle, thus leaving me between both lines, the bullets coming from either direction, when again I entered our line. This maneuvre happened three times before I reached Jackson, in a stretch of three miles. It was then four o'clock p. m.

CHAPTER XII

When we reached Jackson the previous day I noted a flat by the side of the railroad bridge. I was thinking to cross Pearl River by that means, so I started to the right towards the railroad bridge. On my way down the street a lady was standing over a tub of whiskey with a dipper in her hand. She said to me, "Poor fellow, are you wounded?" I said, "Yes." She dipped up a dipper full of whiskey, which I drank. It had a good effect on my shattered nerves and did not cause me the least dizziness. It was the medicine I surely needed. On arriving at the River, I found the flat was gone, the railroad bridge was the only chance left me to cross. I crawled up the embankment and found that the cross ties were too far apart for me to step it, owing to my contracted leaders, so I concluded to "coon it" on my hands and knees on the stringers, holding onto the rail.

The bridge is a long one and very high, Jackson being built on a high bluff. When about half way across I heard a great deal of noise and reports of fire arms; I heard bullets whizzing by. Finally bullets were hitting the trestle beneath me and in front of me. Looking back I saw at a distance of about four hundred yards a force of the enemy, which I judged to be about half a regiment, coming up the lowlands in a flank around Jackson. My first impulse was, can I make it across, or must I surrender? I concluded to take the chances, and continued to cross. Bullets were striking beneath me, and in front, splinters were flying. One ball hit the rail about six inches in front of my hand. They were gaining on me fast, when at last I reached the other side, laying myself flat on the track, I rolled over, down about an eighteen foot embankment. Thus being protected from the enemy's bullets, I entered the swamp not far beside the road leading to Branton, I noted a large hollow poplar tree. It must have been four or five feet in diameter. I crawled in, I felt faint and weak, had not eaten anything that day. I must have fainted; when presently I heard the sound of artillery and musketry to my right across the river and the noise of an empty wagon coming from towards Branton. I took a reconnoitering look, and saw Jackson on fire and a wagon driven by a negro, holding the lines over four splendid mules, coming towards the city. I took my stand in the road, pistol in hand. The following conversation ensued:

"Halt. Where are you going?"

"To Jackson. Marse Richard sent me to fotch his things. He is afraid the Yankees would cotch him."

"How will you get across?"

"Goes on the flat, sah."

"There is no flat now."

"Yes there is, and Marse Richard–"

"Turn the head of the mules towards Branton, or you are a dead Negro"—aiming at him as I spoke. He exclaimed, "Don't shoot Marster, I'll do as you say." He turned the mules towards where he came from. I crawled behind in the wagon, pistol in hand, and at a gallop all the way for twelve miles. We entered Branton in the early part of the night. The people were still up at the Hotel. The excitement ran high about the enemies capturing Jackson. Branton was a nice little village. The negro proved to be a run-away. Had stolen the team from the quartermaster and running with it to the enemy. The lady of the hotel came to me saying, "Are you wounded?" I stated my condition, and she sympathized with me, saying, "Poor fellow, I expect you need something to eat." I surely did, for I was more dead than alive, after having passed such an eventful day. I ate a hearty supper. I was given a shirt. She bandaged my arm, which was smarting badly. She furnished me a room and a bottle of mustang linament to rub myself. My clothes which were full of mud were washed and dried by a large fire. The following morning, I felt really refreshed. It is unnecessary to say that I slept well that night. At an early hour that morning, the alarm of "The Yankees are coming. They are only four miles from here and Johnston is retreating towards Canton." Everybody that could get away, left. The quartermaster had an old broken down horse, which he tendered me for having saved his fine team, and I left the town on horse back, thanking my hostess for all her kindness. About two miles from Branton I met up with three men from my Company, viz, A. P. Heath, Jackson O'Quinn and Harmon Fields. They were not in the fight, having been on the sick list and not fit for duty, so we traveled together for some distance. We reached a settlement, which from appearance, belonged to well-to-do people. The gentleman of the premises was standing at the gate leading to the house. I said to my comrades that I would have to rest and recuperate until I got well, so I addressed myself to the proprietor, "Sir, can you take care of a wounded Confederate?" He put his hand in his hip pocket in quick motion, as if to draw a pistol, but instead drew a small slate and pencil, handed it to me with a motion to write my request, which I did. He rubbed it out and wrote swiftly in a scholarly style, "Nothing I have is too good for a Confederate soldier. Walk in—all of you." His name was Williams, unfortunately deaf and dumb, but very intelligent. His family consisted of a wife and two daughters, and all seemed to be well educated and comfortably situated. They were very solicitous in their attentions to us. The girls played on the piano while I entertained the old man, by writing on his slate my experience of the previous day. He looked at me in wonder, and occasionally took hold of my hand and shook it. I remained his guest for nearly a week, until we located our Company, and where to meet it. I got entirely well, my arm was healing nicely, under the care of Mrs. Williams. Our forces had located at Canton. He sent us mule-back through Pearl River Swamp to the Canton road, while I rode my horse. He refused to take any remuneration for anything he had done for us, so I sent back my horse with a note and begged him to accept the same and thanking them all for what they had done for us.

CHAPTER XIII

The following day I entered camp with my comrades among great cheers, all having thought me dead or a prisoner. Major Martin asked me how I got through. I told him I took his advice and did the best I could. I related to him the incidents that I met with. He said, "Well, I congratulate you. I don't believe one in a thousand would have escaped." "I was glad I was the one." We were ordered to strike tents at Canton, and we retraced our steps again towards Jackson, a distance of between twenty and twenty-five miles. It was one of the hottest days of the season. The road bed being red clay. Our forces now amounted to about eight thousand men, and marching in column with artillery, wagon train and all the paraphernalia appertaining to a moving army, raised such intense dust that it was impossible to recognize one's file-leader in his immediate front. Every step of every individual raised clouds of dust, which lay ankle deep. It was actually suffocating. Men and horses would gasp for breath. The men occasionally would expectorate large lumps of clay that settled in their throats, and no water to be had. We didn't pass a single stream of any kind. It was a forced march to get in the enemy's rear and to cut off reinforcement and supplies for Grant's invading forces onto Vicksburg. The enemy was also making back to Jackson on the Clinton Road which ran nearly parallel to the Canton Road, and we could see their advance by the column of dust to our right. Just before dark a very heavy rain and thunder storm set in. It was preferable to the previous conditions of the weather, although it put us half leg deep in sticky red mud. It got so dark we could not see anything and the rain continued pouring down in all its fury. It was nip and tuck as to which army would reach Jackson first. We got there just a little ahead of the enemy in time to occupy the ditches which now were nearly knee deep in water. In that condition we passed the night, expecting to be attacked momentarily. Men were detailed long in the rear to cook rations for the men in the ditch, which were issued along the line, and consisted of corn bread cooked (a la hate) and a piece of fat bacon. A very amusing incident happened to one of my comrades, W. A. Grimes, who early on our march, and before the dust got so dense, had to step aside for some reason, and being detained while the column kept onward, threw him some distance behind his command. The State of Georgia had sent her troops some shoes; the description of my draw I have already stated, and some white wool hats. Grimes put his name on the front of his hat in large capital letters, and as he hurried to catch up with his command, someone hollowed as he passed, "How are you Bill Grimes?" Grimes stopped in surprise to see who knew him in some other command. Others took up the word all along the line of "How are you Bill Grimes?" Grimes hurried on, on his way, the perspiration running down his face, which had the appearance of being covered with a mask. He could not account for his sudden popularity until he pulled off his hat to wipe off his face. He saw his name on his hat and quickly turned it wrong side out. His name had passed all along the column faster than he could travel and passed Howell's Battery long before he caught up with it. Early in the morning the enemy made demonstrations all along our line and was repulsed. It had quit raining. The artillery kept up a desultory fire for eight days and nights. The enemy's forces were at least three to our one and therefore, could relieve each other, while we were obliged to be kept continually on duty, and consequently became exhausted, my eyes were blood shot, men loaded and fired mechanically, and when so exhausted that I couldn't stand any longer, I dropped beside one of the pieces and in a jiffy, was asleep. I couldn't even hear the report of the guns within a few feet of me. The strain was more than my physique could stand. I got sick and unconscious, and when I came to myself, I was in Yazoo City in a private house, snugly fixed, and a kindly lady by my bedside, whose name was Mrs. Lyons. She cried for joy to see me recover my senses. I asked her where I was and how long I had been there. She said just a week. I asked her what place it was and she said "Yazoo City." I shall always remember gratefully the kind treatment I received from that worthy family, and when after a week's convalescence, I took my leave with many thanks. The lady said she hoped that her brother who was in the Virginia army would in case of sickness receive the attention that she would bestow on any Confederate soldier. Such was the spirit that prevailed throughout the Confederate States.