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

CHAPTER XXII

Before the battle of Resaca Dr. Crawford was ordered to move his hospital further into the interior, so he located at Vineville, a suburb of Macon. He pitched his buildings in front of Mr. Burrell Jordan's premises and sent me again on a foraging expedition. I came again home to Washington County, expecting to make headquarters at the home of Mr. Benjamin G. Smith, where I was always welcome. Mr. Smith however, at that time seemed to be very much disturbed and not in his usual pleasant and cheerful mood. I asked him the cause of his troubles; he handed me a slip of paper just received from Lieut. Stone, recruiting agent at Sandersville, to be sure and report without fail at Sandersville on the following Thursday to be mustered into service. Mr. Smith was a widower; his wife had died a couple of years previous, leaving him an only daughter about four years old. Mr. Smith was the owner of about one hundred slaves and a very large plantation. He remarked to me, Hermann, I do not mind going to the front, but what is to become of my dear little Jenny among all those negroes; this is more than I can stand. Mr. Smith was a great benefactor to the indigent widows and orphans, and soldiers' families. He contributed unstintedly to the wants of those at home whose male persons were at the front fighting the battles of their country; in fact he ran his whole plantation in their interest, making thousands of provisions which he distributed among them as they stood in need and without remuneration. This was the period of the war when everybody able to bear arms was called to the front, and the saying was, "The Government is robbing the cradle and the grave." Sherman was advancing; Johnston was falling back; the people were clamorous for a test fight, General Johnston could not see the advantage of the same and still kept retreating. The battle of Kennesaw mountain was hotly contested, with severe punishment to the enemy but Johnston withdrew and thus fell back to the gates of Atlanta. Referring again to Mr. Smith, I told him I thought I had a solution to his troubles. I said, Carry your little girl to Mrs. Francis, your sister; she will take care of her. This is only Tuesday, we will run up to Macon tonight, and I will plead your cause before Governor Brown, who had established his headquarters there. I think it worth a trial anyway, you can't lose anything by it anyhow. This was about 3 o'clock p. m. He at once gave orders to his cook to boil a ham and make biscuits and that night about midnight we took the train to Macon, Ga. We took breakfast at my cousin's and repaired to the Governor's headquarters. I saw the Governor in front of a table, examining some papers. I said, This is Governor Brown? He said Yes, what will you have? I introduced myself, stating that I was a member of Howell's Battery, and that on account of disabilities was relieved from duty and assigned by Dr. Crawford as foraging agent. I related the condition of Mr. Smith and his surroundings, saying, That man is worth as much at home as a regiment at the front. The Governor at once wrote on a sheet of paper, handing it to Mr. Smith, said, Hand this to the enrolling officer. It was an exemption from military duty. We took our leave, thanking the Governor. Mr. Smith was so overcome with the fact that I had never seen such emotion displayed by a man; tears ran down his cheeks; his thoughts concentrated on his "Sis" as he called his little daughter Jenny.

Mr. Smith lived to a ripe old age. He was of a very benevolent disposition. He was a religious man but not a fanatic, quick answering and very charitable. Many now prosperous and substantial citizens owe their start in life to his munificence. He was as gentle as a woman but as firm as a rock in his convictions. In his death Washington County has sustained an irreparable loss and the State a true and loyal citizen.

CHAPTER XXIII

General Joseph E. Johnston was removed from command and General John B. Hood was appointed in his stead. Dr. Crawford was ordered to remove to Montgomery, Ala. In reference to the battle of Resaca I omitted to state that I received a letter from my friend B. S. Jordan, whom I had appointed as local agent to forward supplies for the general hospital, that his brother, Jas. P., a Capt. in the 57th Ga. Regt., and a dear friend of mine, was dangerously wounded. I at once set out in quest of him and found him lying on a pallet on the platform of the depot. He was suffering, but when he saw me he brightened up. I said, poor fellow, are you wounded badly? He said, Yes, and indicated the place. Now I have to refer to a little incident that transpired at the time when Capt. Jordan had organized a Company and was about to leave for the front: This was in 1862. When I had already experienced one year's service in the 1st Ga. Regiment. I said, Well, James, don't you let me hear of you being shot in the back. He was indignant. Never, replied he, emphatically. But when he indicated his wound, I remarked at once: Shot in the back, as I expected. Suffering as he was, he laughed heartily and said I want to explain; I said, No explanation is necessary, the evidence is before me. He remarked, Yes, but I want to explain how it was done. I said evidently by a musket ball in the hands of a Yankee, and so I teased him until he nearly forgot all about his wound, which was in the fleshy part of his hip. Captain James P. Jordan was of a noble and chivalrous disposition and his Company had seen much hard service. He explained that they were ordered forward on a double quick to charge the enemy in their immediate front, when owing to some obstructions his Company got out of line, turning towards them to align them a ball had struck him and he was carried to the rear. I carried him to the Vineville hospital. Dr. Crawford extracted the ball, and when his Uncle Burrell heard of his being there he had him removed to his home and well taken care of.

It must be remembered matters were getting very squally; every available man and boy was called to the front. The battle of Atlanta was fought and lost at a great sacrifice to both sides, on July 21st, 1864, Gen. W. H. T. Walker on our side, General McPherson on the Federal side, were both killed. The City was sacked and laid into ruins as a result of the most uncivilized warfare. General Hood changed his tactics, and after the engagement at Jonesboro he swung to Sherman's rear, expecting by that move to cut off Sherman's supplies and reinforcements, and Sherman having now no army in front to oppose him marched through the length of Georgia by rapid strides to the sea, Savannah being his objective point.

CHAPTER XXIV

The prisoners at Andersonville, amounting to many thousand, owing to their Government refusing to exchange them, preferring to let them die in their congested condition rather than to release those of ours, caused untold hardships on those unfortunate fellows. Their own Government even refused to furnish them with the requisite medical relief and medicine which became unobtainable on account of the close cordon of blockaders guarding our ports of entry. It must be remembered that while we on the Confederate side had only seven hundred thousand available men, in round numbers, in every branch of the service, our adversary had, according to statistics, two million, seven hundred thousand men in the field, and while we had exhausted all our resources they still had the whole world to draw from. Neither were they particular then, as now, as to what kind of emigrants landed in Castle Garden or Ellis Island, but they accepted the scum of the world, paying fifteen hundred dollars bounty as an incentive to enlist in their army. Such were the conditions in the latter part of 1864. General Wheeler's Cavalry was the only force that swung close to Sherman's flanks, thus keeping his columns more compact and preventing them from doing more depredations than they did. Even as it was, they lived on the fat of the land, and as stated, wantonly destroyed what they could not carry along, to the detriment of the defenceless women and children.

Dr. Crawford was ordered to remove his hospital to Montgomery, Alabama. I was out foraging; I was at Davisboro, Station No. 12, Central R. R. when a train load of the Andersonville prisoners stopped at the station. The train consisted of a long string of box cars. Davisboro was not then the prosperous little city it is now; it consisted of only one dwelling and outhouses usually attached to a prosperous plantation, and a store house; it was owned by Mrs. Hardwick, the great grandmother of our now Congressman, T. W. Hardwick, an elderly widow lady, who for the accommodation of the railroad kept an eating house where the train hands would get their meals as the trains passed on schedule time. Curiosity led me to approach the train, which was heavily guarded by sentinels stationed in the open doors and on top of the cars, with loaded muskets, to prevent escapes, when I heard the grand hailing words of distress from an inmate of the car. Being a Mason, I demanded what was wanted, when some one appealed to me, "For God's sake give me something to eat, I am starving to death; somebody stole my rations and I have not eaten anything for three days." Being meal time I at once run in the dining room of the Hardwick House, picked up a plate with ham and one with biscuits, and ran to the train, called on the man in Masonic terms, and handed him the provisions that I had wrapped up in a home made napkin, bordered with indigo blue. It was seven o'clock p. m. and one could not distinguish the features of an individual; it was a starless, foggy night. After the train left I entered the house and excused myself for the rudeness of taking the provisions as I did. Mrs. Hardwick not having been in the dining room at the time I explained to her that my obligations were such that I had to render assistance to any distressed Brother Mason; he applying to me as such; "I am now ready to pay you for all the damages I did," and this was her reply: "I don't charge you anything honey, I am glad you did it." But not so with her housekeeper, Miss Eliza Jackson, who berated me for everything she could think of, saying, "They had no right to come here and fight us; you are nothing but a Yankee yourself," etc., etc. Miss Jackson was a long ways beyond her teens, so I said, "Miss Liza, you are mad, because owing to the war your chances for marriage have greatly diminished, especially with the disposition you have." Those present enjoyed her discomfiture.

Usually when troops were about to be ordered in transit, they were issued three days rations, all of which were often walloped out of sight at one square meal on account of its meagerness; undoubtedly that is what happened to my Masonic Brother; he received his rations and someone stole them. I myself often ate at one meal what was intended to last me three days and trusted for the future. I never felt any remorse of conscience to get something to eat, if I could; I felt that the people for whom I devoted my services in those days owed me a living, and when the authorities failed to supply it, I took it where I could find it.

CHAPTER XXV

I rejoined Dr. Crawford and he sent me out again. I took the train to Greenville, Alabama, and walked about eight miles to Col. Bowens', who was an uncle of Mrs. John George. Mrs. George was a niece of Mrs. Braswell, where I boarded. She came to spend many days with her Aunt while I was with the family; her home was only about three miles distant. She married Mr. George and moved to Butler County, Alabama. Mr. Bowen, her uncle, furnished me with a horse and I rode out to see them. Butler county is a sort of an out of the way place, and that country had not been overrun with soldiers, and provisions were plentiful. When I hollowed at the gate she recognized me at once and was overjoyed; she took me around the neck and kissed me. George ran out saying, "Mollie! Mollie! What are you doing." She said, "Never mind that is home folks." Poor woman, she was so overcome to see someone from home that she actually cried for joy. They were a happy family. I gave them all the news about their people, as I had just come from there. I stated my business and both of them set in the following day to assist me in my duty. Butler county, where they lived was a very hilly country, but tolerably thickly settled, and provisions came in by the quantities. I, with the assistance of my host and hostess, filled a single box of eggs six by three feet long and three feet high. We stood every one on its end with alternate layers of bran and sawdust and carried them over a very rough road to Greenville, together with a great many chickens and shipped them to the hospital, and we only lost three dozen eggs by breakage. One morning we heard the report that the enemy, in great force, was approaching. People were leaving the city. With the exception of a small garrison there was no defense. Dr. Crawford had to abandon the city, removed all that were in condition to get away, but there were about a half a dozen men who were too sick to be removed. The enemy came into the city soon after we left. Dr. Crawford remarked to me that evening, "Herman, I am going to send you back to take charge of the hospital and those poor fellows that I could not get away." I demurred, saying that I did not care to be taken prisoner. He said, "Listen; In all civilized warfare the medical department is exempt from molestation." I said, "From the way this war is waged it is not altogether civilized, but I am under your orders; I'll do what you want me to do." He said, "I'll take it as a great favor; I can't abandon those poor fellows, some one has to take care of them and administer to their wants." He said he did not know where he would locate but wherever he went I must come back to him. I was then about nine miles from Montgomery. It was late in the evening, and I took it afoot back. When passing through Macon on my way to Montgomery, I passed a night with my cousin, Mrs. Wurzbourg, whose husband was exempt from military duty on account of physical infirmity. My jacket which I wore was threadbare, and even (holy). He presented me with one of his blue flannel sack coats. I had previously been able, through Dr. Crawford, to get enough cloth for a pair of pants and vest. It was blockade goods which the Government had purchased, and it was of a coarse textile, and of a light blue cast, and thus I was fairly decently clothed. In those days the Confederate grey was very much lacking, and men, as well as women, had to wear anything, of any color they could get hold of. So after leaving Dr. Crawford, to return to the hospital at Montgomery, I stopped over at a cottage. The proprietor had a watch repair and jewelry shop in Montgomery, who owned a small plantation about six miles from the city. He had left the city for lack of business, and now lived at his country home. He was an Englishman, his wife was French. This book being written entirely from memory, after a lapse of about a half a century, I can't remember the names of those people, but they were very kind and hospitable. After supper we repaired to their little parlor. The house was well kept, and proved that the mistress of the same knew how to manage a home and make it comfortable. There was a piano, and I asked the lady, (talking French to her), if she would kindly play a little. So she asked me if I could sing some French songs; I said a few. She at once repaired to the instrument, and asked me what will you have. I of course called for the Marseillaise, which she performed to perfection. So she asked me to sing; I started the melody of

Adieu PatrieFrance CherieOu Chaque jourCoulait si pureMon helvretieDouce et joliePays d'AmourO ciel d azureAdieu, Adieu!

Having finished that stanza I noticed she had quit playing and was crying; so I remarked, "Madam, had I known that my singing would have had such an effect I surely would not have sung." By way of explanation she remarked that her first husband was a composer and that the song I sang was his first effort and he received a prize on it. Oh those were happy days she said! Her husband talked very kindly to her and the general conversation turned on France and of days gone by. She had lived in Paris and knew many business houses that I knew and I passed a most pleasant night. The following morning I sat down to a substantial country breakfast. We had hardly finished when the negro servant ran in, saying, "Master the Yankees are coming. They are here." Looking up the road, sure enough, a few hundred yards beyond where the road turned, they were in view. I at once, on the first impulse, jumped into a closet. Hardly was I in, closing the door, when I thought of this being the first place they would examine. I opened the door, and not knowing where to go I went into the back yard, between the house and the smoke house. Hardly had I done so when a dozen or more Yankees left their column entered the house very boisterously. Being dressed somewhat like they were, in blue, lacking but the brass buttons, I entered the back door, unconcernedly, mixing among them without being detected or noticed. Some of the men had placed their guns in the corner of the room; when of a sudden my hostess run in by the back door, crying, "My God! They are taking all of my meat." I don't know what impelled me but I seized a gun from the corner, ran out of the back door, brought my weapon from a trail to a support, and ordered the two men to throw back the hams each of them had in their grasp, one of which acted at my command, and the other said, What in the h–l you got to do with it. Before I could reply his comrade said to him, "Throw it down, don't you see he is a safe guard;" he threw down the hams. I took the cue from what the Yankee said, although it was the first time I had heard of a safe-guard. The door of the dwelling wide open, those in the house saw me walk the post back and forth, made their exit and left the house, and as long as I was guarding, no more Yankees tarried on the premises; they came, looked about and left the premises as soon as they saw me standing guard, until the whole column had passed. My host came to me saying, Well, they are all gone, thank God, I said no, the rear guard has not passed. The dwelling house was constructed close to the ground, leaving only about a foot space in front while the rear end was about two and a half feet from the ground. I took my gun and crawled under the house. Presently there came what I thought to be about a regiment, and several stragglers. Finally I came from under the house. I gave my hostess the gun I'd taken, telling her, If I do not call for it it shall be yours. My host took my hands, shook them heartily, saying, "You are a hero;" I laughed, saying, Well, I saved your bacon; Good bye; I am much obliged to you for your kind hospitality, and if it had not been for those fellows we would have had a good time. I started on my philanthropic errand, not knowing if I would find the sick men dead or alive. I had gone but a few hundred yards when I met a Federal soldier marching hastily to catch up. He said, Are they far ahead; I said, No, about five hundred yards or a quarter of a mile. You are going the wrong way, said he. I answered, I am not going far, I lost something. Further on I met two more, who like the first, took me for a Federal. One said, Comrade you are going the wrong way. I said, I am not going far. How far behind are we? I said, Not far, a few hundred yards. And so within about one and a half mile I met a dozen stragglers, walking to catch up, all comparatively asking the same questions, and to which I replied alike. When about four hundred yards in front of me, and about alike in the rear of the last straggler I saw four horsemen, riding abreast, holding their carbines by the barrel and resting the butt on their thighs. I recognized them as Confederates. I walked up to them, asking, What troops do you belong to? Harvey's Scouts of Forrests' Cavalry, was their reply. Are there any others behind? Yes. How far? The rear of the enemy's column is about two miles ahead of you, said I, and there are about a dozen stragglers, some with guns, and some have none; they are separated several hundred yards apart, some single and some in pairs; if you spur up you can catch the whole gang; I'll tell those men ahead of me to hurry up. Where is Capt. Harvey? You'll find him in the Exchange Hotel, in town. They at once put spurs to their horses and galloped on, and I followed my course towards the city. I met the reinforcements some little distance ahead of me, and reported what I had seen and told their advance scouts. They all went at full speed, and later, I saw the whole gang of stragglers brought in. I asked Capt. Harvey what had become of the inmates at the hospital. He said he did not know for he had just arrived that morning. I went to the hospital, found things in rather bad shape and the inmates gone. After careful investigation I heard that the Ladies Relief Association had taken care of the sick and that they were well provided for.

CHAPTER XXVI

Dr. Crawford followed General Hood's army and established headquarters at Corinth, Miss. I followed at once, as soon as I could locate him. I bought what provisions I could along the stations. At Columbus, Miss., some Federals who came there to tear up the track fired in the train as we passed; several of the passengers were wounded but General Forrest appeared at that moment on the scene and routed the enemy, killing and wounding quite a number of them, and thus preventing the wreckage of the railroad track. The car I rode in was riddled with bullets, but I escaped unhurt; several of the passengers had a close call.

While at Corinth I was deputized to carry a message to the front, this side of Franklin, Tennessee. I arrived in time where General Beauford's men had a brush with the enemy. A stray bullet hit me in the thigh, and for a time I thought I was seriously hurt. I was close to a little stream of water. I had my leg tied above the wound with my handkerchief and put it in the running stream. A surgeon came to probe my wound, but trembled like a man having the palsy, and I told him he must not touch me any further; he could hardly put his probe in the hole made by the bullet. After a while I was picked up and sent to the rear where I was cared for by Dr. Crawford, who was very sorry and regretted having sent me. My wound was doing so well and there was no inflammation taking place, and by keeping cold applications on it I was able to be about in less than two weeks. Dr. Crawford said I did the best thing that could be done by keeping inflammation down by putting my leg in the stream. The wound did so well that he would not bother it to extract the ball, and so I still carry it as a memento of the war. While at Corinth the ladies of Washington county sent me a box. The battle of Franklin was fought and a victory dearly bought. Two weeks later the battle of Nashville was fought, and General Hood's magnificent army nearly annihilated. They came through Corinth the worst conditioned men I ever laid my eyes upon. There I met Lieut. John T. Gross of this County and Capt. Joe Polhill of Louisville, Ga., and about twenty of their command. They were hungry and in rags; I said, "Boys, you are in a bad fix." Capt. Polhill said, "Ike, can you tell me where I can get something to eat; I am starved." I said I had just heard that there was a box in the depot for me, let us see what is in it. I took the crowd up to the hospital and all got something to eat. The hospital wagon went to the depot and got the box. It was a large box, and was filled to the top with clothes and eatables. Lieut. Gross, who was barefooted, I supplied with a pair of broken shoes. Many of the provisions were cooked. I took out some checked shirts and knit socks and a pair of pants and jacket and divided the rest among the boys, who were all from Jefferson and Washington counties, and even to this day Capt Polhill declares I saved his life. He is still one of the Vets. and a useful and honored citizen of Louisville, Ga.

Corinth at that time when I saw it, was only a railroad station with an improvised station house or warehouse. A few chimneys here and there indicated where had previously stood some houses. It is not far from the Tennessee river, about ten miles from Shiloh, where Albert Sidney Johnson, from Texas, was killed and General Beauregard saved the day. During my convalescence I walked over some of the battle ground. Being tired I sat down on a log. There were two logs touching each other lengthways. They had been large trees, about two and a half to three feet in diameter. Playing on the ground with my crutch I unearthed a bullet; presently I scratched up another. I noted that the logs were riddled with bullets. I picked up over one hundred pounds of musket balls in a space not over twenty-five feet square. How any escaped such a shower of lead in such a small place can't be possible. Undoubtedly those logs had served as a protection behind which those brave fellows sent forth in the ranks of their adversaries a similar amount of death dealing missiles.