Home
  By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon


We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: A History of Lumsden's Battery, C.S.A.
Author: Little, George, 1838-1924, Maxwell, James Robert, 1844-
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "A History of Lumsden's Battery, C.S.A." ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.



Libraries.)



[Illustration: From left to right, back row--Private Thrower, Orderly
Sergeant George Little, Sergeant John Little, Bugler Minardo Rosser.
Second row, left--Lieut. Harvey Cribbs; right, Artificer William
Johnson. Front row, left--Corporal Thos. Owen, Walter Guild. Seated,
on right--Sergeant James R. Maxwell; left, Rufus Jones or "Rube,"
T. A. Dearing's servant.]



A HISTORY
_of_
LUMSDEN'S BATTERY
C. S. A.



Written by Dr. George Little
_and_
Mr. James R. Maxwell



Published by R. E. Rhodes Chapter
United Daughters of the Confederacy
Tuskaloosa, Alabama



Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Original spellings, punctuation and discrepancies have
been retained, including the list of Privates with numerous names out
of alphabetical order.



This History of Lumsden's Battery was written from memory in 1905 by
Dr. Maxwell and Dr. Little, with the help of a diary kept by Dr. James
T. Searcy.

From organization Nov. 4, 1861, to Oct. 15, 1863, this data is the work
of Dr. George Little, from Oct. 15, 1863, to its surrender May 4, 1865,
the work of Mr. James R. Maxwell.



LUMSDEN'S BATTERY

Its Organization and Services in the Army of the Confederate States.


At the close of the spring term of the Circuit Court of Tuscaloosa
County, Alabama, in May, 1861, Judge Wm. S. Mudd announced from the
bench that Mr. Harvey H. Cribbs would resign the office of Sheriff of
the County for the purpose of volunteering into the Army of the
Confederate States and would place on the desk of the Clerk of the
Court an agreement so to volunteer signed by himself, and invited all
who wished to volunteer to come forward and sign the same agreement.
Many of Tuscaloosa's young men signed the same day.

By the end of the week following the list had grown to about 200 men.
Capt. Charles L. Lumsden, a graduate of the Virginia Military Institute
was commandant of Cadets at the University of Alabama and had been
contemplating the getting up of a company for service in Light or Field
Artillery and had been corresponding with the War Department and Army
officers already in service concerning the matter.

These volunteers, on learning this fact, at once offered themselves to
Capt. Lumsden as a company of such artillery.

Dr. George W. Vaughn, son of Edward Bressie Vaughn (who afterwards gave
two other younger sons to the cause) and Mr. Ebenezer H. Hargrove, also
of Tuscaloosa County, had married two Mississippi girls, sisters, the
Misses Sykes of Columbus, Mississippi, and were engaged in planting in
Lowndes County, Miss. Hearing of this Artillery Co. they sent their
names to be added to the list. Dr. George Little, Professor of
Chemistry in Oakland College, Mississippi, and his younger brother,
John Little, Principal of the Preparatory Department, resigned their
places and returned to Tuscaloosa to join this Company. Edward Tarrant,
Superintendent of Education for Tuscaloosa County, had a flourishing
educational institute called the Columbian Institute at Taylorville
four and a half miles south of Tuscaloosa. He gave up his school and
joined the Company, where two of his sons, Ed William and John F.,
afterwards followed him.

Joseph Porter Sykes, a nephew of the Sykes sisters, had been appointed
by Pres. Davis a Cadet in the regular C. S. Army and at his request was
assigned to this Company. Dr. Nicholas Perkins Marlowe and Drs. Caleb
and Wm. Toxey served as surgeons at different times and Dr. Jarretts
and McMichael and Dr. Hill also later. We mention these doctors who
entered the ranks as privates as emphasizing the spirit that was moving
the young men of the time in every trade and profession. But their
country had too crying a need of medical men, in a few weeks, to permit
them to continue to serve with arms in their hands, and all of them
were soon promoted to the service for which their education fitted
them, serving as Regimental and Brigade surgeons and high in their
profession after the close of the war. In May the election of officers
was held and resulted in election of Charles Lumsden, Captain; George
W. Vaughn, Sr., First Lieutenant; Henry H. Cribbs, Jr., First
Lieutenant; Ebenezer H. Hargrove, Sr., Second Lieutenant; Edward
Tarrant, Jr., Second Lieutenant; Joseph Porter Sykes, Cadet.

The following were appointed non-commissioned Officers:

George Little, Orderly Sergeant; John Snow, Quartermaster Sergeant;
John A. Caldwell, Sergeant; A. Coleman Hargrove, Sergeant; Sam
Hairston, Sergeant; Wiley G. W. Hester, Sergeant; Horace W. Martin,
Sergeant; James L. Miller, Sergeant; Wm. B. Appling, Corporals; Wade
Brooks, J. Wick Brown, James Cardwell, Thomas Owen, Alex T. Dearing,
Wm. Hester, Seth Shepherd, Wm. Morris, Artificer, Wheelwright; Wm.
Worduff, Artificer, Harness; C. W. Donoho, Bugler; John Drake, Farrier.

At the request of Capt. Lumsden, Dr. George Little went to Mobile and
offered the service of the Company to Maj. Gen. Jones M. Witters, who
accepted it and promised a six gun Battery fully equipped and ordered
the Company to report at once for duty at Mobile. It went down on a
service steamboat and was first quartered in a cotton warehouse,
Hitchock's, on Water St., and mustered into service by Capt. Benjamin C.
Yancy of the regular C. S. Army. Horses and equipments were furnished
and the Captain was ordered to take two 24-lb. siege guns to Hall's
mills, a turpentine still fourteen and a half miles south west of
Mobile where Gen. Gladden was encamped with a Brigade of Infantry and
where a battalion of artillery was organized under the command of Major
James H. Hallonquist, a West Point graduate, and when in a camp of
instruction we were broken into the life and duties of soldiers, a life
very different from the experience of any of the company hitherto. On
March 3, 1862, the command was marched to Dog River Factory, a march of
about fifteen miles, when we boarded the Steamer Dorrance and were
carried to Ft. Gaines on Dauphin Island at the mouth of Mobile Bay.

At Ft. Gaines the drudgery of camp life was experienced in mounting
guns, blistering hands with shovels and crowbars and noses and ears by
the direct rays of a semi-tropical sun.

When bounty money was paid to the command, another new experience was
had by many, for released from restraints of home, church and public
sentiment, it did not take long for many to learn to be quite expert
gamblers. But the more thoughtful sent most of their money home to
their families and parents, and the general sentiment being against
such a lowering of the moral tone of the command, Capt. Lumsden issued
orders, absolutely forbidding all gambling in the camp, with the
approval of the great majority of his men.

About this time by some unknown means, it was reported in Tuscaloosa
that Capt. Lumsden was intemperate or addicted to drink. As soon as the
command heard of this report, they took immediate steps to "sit down on
the lie," to the great relief of friends and relatives at home. Neither
then nor in any succeeding years could any such charge have been
truthfully made against him. The boys thought this year's service
around Mobile a tough experience. They could not keep cleanly in their
dress nor enjoy all luxuries of life to which they had been accustomed
but the time soon came when they could look back to their first year's
experience of soldier life as luxurious, in comparison to rags and
semi-starvation that afterwards fell to their lot for months at a time.

Two steamboats were each making their weekly trips to Tuscaloosa and
back. Parents and friends came and went. The least expression of a
need, to the folks at home brought the wished for articles. Nothing was
too good for the boys at the front and fish and oysters were abundant
in season. The latter were in those days only considered eatable in the
R. months, as the saying was: i.e., during the months whose names
contained the letter R. So that from May to August, the poor things
could enjoy life without the fear of man. Ice was not then available to
preserve them during the summer months.

At Fort Gaines, Lt. Cribbs was given charge of the Ordnance Department.
In the early spring, the company received as recruits from Tuscaloosa
many good men. Feb. 24, 1862 there arrived with Lt. Tarrant, James T.
Searcy, John Chancellor, James Manly, Ed. King, Jno. Molette, T. Alex
Dearing and ten or twelve others, E. R. Prince, Jas. F. Prince. It is
from a personal diary kept by James T. Searcy that much of this first
and second year's experience of the command has been culled and all of
the dates.

On the trip down the boat "scraped the woods" considerably, butted out
one tree by the roots, butted another that staggered the boat without
injuring the tree, but left about twenty feet of the guards in the
water as the tree's trophy in the encounter. Such incidents were in
those days quite common in steamboat travel in low water.

Mumps, measles and kindred camp diseases made their usual inroads on
the health of the command, and many of them had to spend a part of the
time in the hospital in Mobile, George W. Smith and James L. Miller
among them.

Major Hallonquist was in command of the Artillery at Ft. Gaines but on
April 4th was ordered to join Gen. Bragg at Corinth, Tenn., and Col.
Melanclhan Smith took command of the Fort. Officers and men were
longing to meet the enemy in battle.

At Ft. Gaines, a few Yankee vessels blockading could be seen in the
distance, but the monotony was wearing, and each commanding officer was
pulling all possible ropes to secure orders to proceed to the front, in
this case to Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston's army near Corinth. Capt.
Lumsden got promises but by perhaps some political pull Gage's Mobile
battery secured the deserved privilege to report at Corinth and in the
battle of Shiloh got badly cut up and after the battle was ordered back
to Mobile to recuperate and Lumsden's was ordered to Corinth and given
the same guns and equipment.

On Sundays near Mobile Dr. Hill, a private, often officiated as a
preacher so that during this first year, Sundays could be distinguished
from the other days of the week. He was from near Columbus,
Mississippi, and a practicing physician as well. Tuesday, April 15,
1862, three days after the battle of Shiloh, found the command at
Corinth, having left Mobile on Monday and it took possession of Gage's
guns, etc., on April 16th, got tents 4:00 p.m. April 17th, so for the
first time for two nights, they slept on the ground in the open air, a
new thing then, the general rule thereafter.

Several Tuscaloosa Doctors were near Corinth, assisting in caring for
the wounded, amongst them Drs. Leland and Cochrane. Even to see so many
gathered as in this first army was a new sight and experience to these
raw troops.

On April 23rd the battery was attached to Chalmers Brigade, and marched
twelve miles over awful roads of sticky mud and water to Monterey,
where everything was next morning put in line of battle but the rifle
and cannon firing was a mere reconnaissance of the enemy and all hands
bivouaced in place on the wet ground.

Here much sickness prevailed and the rains were continuous. The
hospital tent was soon filled and on one day Orderly Sergeant Little,
out of a roll of 170 men took to a church in Corinth used as a hospital
in charge of Dr. N. P. Marlowe, sixty men sick. They had measles,
pneumonia, erysipelas, typhoid fever and chronic diarrhea. At this
evacuation of Corinth, the battery had barely enough men to drive the
horses and Gen. Chalmers made a detail from the 10th Mississippi
infantry to fill out the company.

Want of vegetable food, drinking water from seep wells and exposure to
cold rains caused the sickness. It was general in the army and probably
made necessary the retreat to Tupelo when, with better water, the
company and army quickly secured usual health. The evening of May 3,
1862 and that night found company under arms in line of battle with
Chalmer's Brigade, but no enemy appeared. Within two weeks ending May
8th, five of the men died: Fulgham, Hall, Hyche, Sims and Lingler. They
gave their lives to the cause.

To die in hospital was harder, much harder, than to die in the
excitement of battle, on the field. J. T. Searcy was unable to walk
from a carbuncle on his knee.

On Friday, May 9th, one section of two guns with their complement of
men, having been sent forward on Monterey road, at noon opened fire on
a considerable body of Yankee Infantry and a battery near Farmington.
The battery replied and a considerable duel was fought. Lumsden had no
causalities, but did fine shooting, as scouts reported, who passed over
ground that had been occupied by the enemy, that quite a number of
bodies were left by them on the field. This was the first time under
fire and their action was commended by the General in command. The
other section was on the Purdy road at the time, but did not get
engaged.

On May 9th, Friday, two new scouts reached the battery from Tuscaloosa,
Chas. J. Fiquet and John Little, the latter having given up a good
position in a Mississippi College.

On the 8th a gentleman named Bozeman came to the command and proved up
his son to be a minor, thus releasing him from service. The battery
remained near Tupelo about two months. Lieutenant Vaughn left the
battery here on sick furlough. On July 26th battery left Tupelo for
Chattanooga, Tennessee marching through Columbus, Mississippi, and
Tuscaloosa, Alabama. On Sunday, Aug. 3rd, at Columbus many of the
command were glad of the opportunity to attend church once more, in
civilized fashion, with friends and relatives of many of the command.
Nothing was too good to be lavished upon the soldier boys. Before
reaching Columbus, Gen. Bragg in passing the column noticed Lt. Cribb's
condition; inquired about him and ordered that he report at
Headquarters on reaching Columbus. When Lt. Cribbs did so, Gen. Bragg
furnished him one of his ambulances and ordered him to Tuscaloosa
ahead, to stay until recovered. John A. Caldwell was sent with him. He
was down with camp fever for some weeks and reached the battery again
near Cumberland Gap, after the retreat from Kentucky.

On Friday, Aug. 8th, the Battery reached Tuscaloosa where it remained
with the home people until Sunday, the 16th.

For one week, they had the freedom of the city and county, and were
with their families at their own homes for the last time 'till the
close of the war.

Leaving Tuscaloosa, Aug. 16th, for one week they were on the road to
Chattanooga and all sorts of a time was experienced. Some "coon juice"
"tangle-foot" was occasionally in evidence and caused some exhilaration
and subsequent depression and some insubordination temporary. One good
man, the Captain felt compelled to buck near Ringston, Ga., and some
excitement was created among the men thereby. It is often hard for
volunteers to submit to punishment of that sort even when deserved, but
patriotism prevented any outbreak among the party's friends.

Sunday, August 31st, found the battery near a little town called
Dunlap, the county seat of Sequatchie County, Tennessee, having been
crossing the Cumberland mountains for two days. Thence to Sparta, White
County, Tennessee on Sept. 6th on an air line 40 miles from Dunlap, but
much more over the Cumberland mountain route. Friday, Sept. 19th, found
the battery on a hill overlooking the Federal fort at Munfordville,
Kentucky, having marched from Sparta some 120 miles during the 12
preceding days. Part of time in bivouac at Red Sulphur Springs, part of
the time marching, drenched to the skin for 24 hours at a stretch,
passing Glasgow and Cave City. At midnight of Tuesday the 16th, the
Federal force in the front surrendered and the next day marched out and
surrendered their arms, with due pomp and circumstances of war, 4200
men well clad in new uniforms of blue. Sergeant Little says, he had the
night before one corn nubbin and that day a piece of pumpkin of the
size of two fingers and sat on the fence eating it, while the prisoners
stacked arms and thought of the 10th Satire of Juvenal and the vanity
of military glory.

As our General entered the Fort, he volunteered as an aid to Gen. Bragg
and passed the picket line and seeing a box of crackers on the side of
the hill resigned the honorary position on the Staff and began
foraging. Just as he had filled his haversack, he was halted by a
sentinel and told that it was against Gen. Bragg's orders, whereupon he
desisted, but soon found another box and filled his "nose bag" with
crackers and returned to the battery, giving Capt. Lumsden and others a
cracker apiece until all were exhausted and he then distributed a
handfull of crumbs to the rest of the men.

On Sept. 22nd at Hagonsville, on 23rd at Bardstown, through a land
flowing with milk and honey, but themselves out of bread and living on
parched corn.

There was at Bardstown a Catholic College and some of the men purchased
here paper and envelopes and Dr. Little going through the library saw a
volume of Humboldt's Kasmas and on telling the Librarian that he had
breakfasted with Humboldt in 1858, at the home of the American
Minister, Gov. Wright of Indiana, at Berlin, Prussia, he told him that
this was an odd volume and he could have it. While reading it the next
day, seated on the top of a rail fence, he was called off suddenly by
an order for the battery to move and the battle of Perryville was on,
after the fight he returned to look for his book and the fence had
disappeared to make a temporary breastwork and the ground was
disfigured by the debris of battle.

Battery remained in camp in a beech grove for 11 days until Saturday,
Oct. 4th, and surely did enjoy the rest and the hospitality of many of
the citizens, who visited the camp daily. Buell's army was at
Louisville and to the southwest of that city and the close proximity of
the enemy, prevented much foraging at any distance from camp, for there
was a liability of a call to arms at any moment. Yet some of the
available supplies of the country fell to our lot, both eatable and
drinkable. Frank's forge was kept busy. Vandiver told his yarns about
his brother-in-law in Arkansas. Shepard's discourses came with heavy
weight through his ponderous beard. Peterson and his crowd entertained
the camp with music and song describing how "He sighed and she sighed
and she sighed again and she fatched another sigh and her head dropped
in." Billy Buck, Reuben, and Isham (Caldwell's servant) cooking biscuit
and meat and pumpkins.

Charley Fiquet and others watching the cooking wistfully, a little
having to go a long ways. All these remembrances of the camp near
Bardstown pass in review, and then it is remembered that we had a foot
deep of wheat straw, between our bodies and the wet earth, under the
stretched blanket or tarpaulin. All this while the regular military
duties, to care for man and beast go forward in regular routine, and
all ready at a moment's notice to be rushed into line of battle at some
indicated move of the enemy.

On Oct. 4th leaving vicinity of Bardstown, the battery passed through
Springfield, just as citizens were leaving church on the 5th Sunday,
and on the 6th passed through Perryville and on to within a mile of
Harrodsburg and bivouaced for the night.

On Tuesday 7th, the command retraced its march back to within two miles
of Perryville, sleeping at their guns during the night.

Next morning Lumsden's and Selden's (Montgomery, Alabama) Batteries
opened the fight in a duel with two Yankee batteries, Lumsden going
forward into the battle and unlimbering under fire of the enemy, losing
one horse from the fourth gun.

The fighting was severe during two hours, 4:00 p.m. to dark. Sims and
another man were wounded in the head by pieces of shell and Goodwyn by
rifle ball. The 4th piece was dismounted and two more horses killed,
then our infantry charged and drove the enemy for two miles with
considerable loss to the Federals.

The battery fired about 2000 rounds, the distance being about one half
mile and after the battle, the battery opposing us was seen knocked all
to pieces, horses piled up and haversacks and canteens strewn over the
ground, while in rear was a long line of knapsacks and overcoats laid
down by the infantry before going into battle and left in their hurried
retreat. Many of our men secured blue overcoats which they wore until
the close of the war. Sergt. Little says he saw a thousand of them but
never thought of securing any booty, but that night as it was very
cold, paid a member of the company $7.00 for one which he wore until it
was shot off him at Nashville.

Eventually Yankees fell back nine miles. The ground was strewed with
Yankee dead, overcoats, canteens, muskets etc. Lumsden got wheels from
Captain Greene to fix up the dismounted gun and remained in field until
noon the next day. This was Lumsden's first battle with the whole
battery. Leaving battle field about noon next day, the battery passed
through Harrodsburg and on Sunday the 12th passed Camp Dick Robinson
and on through Lancaster on the 13th toward Chab Orchard, the army
retreating through Cumberland Gap, via Wild Cat, through a very poor
and thinly settled country, mostly mountains. Troops lived on parched
corn and beef broiled on coals without salt.

Private Kahnweiler was left sick at Munfordville, Sergt. James Cardell,
at Harrodsburg. Private Wooley and Bates missing after Perryville,
supposed to have been killed.

At Camp Dick Robinson, we buried some cannons in an apple orchard
inscribed with Spanish to prevent the Yankees getting them. Here were
4000 barrels of pork, that had been collected from the country and a
good many barrels of whiskey, for which there was no transportation and
they were burned. Bushwhackers lined the route to Cumberland Gap and it
was not safe to get away from the main road.

Near Knoxville on Saturday, Oct. 25th, members of the company who had
been left behind sick at commencement of the Kentucky campaign rejoined
the company. Letters from home, decent clothing and more rations made
the men feel better, yet still clothing was too thin for on Oct. 26th
the whole army found itself covered with a blanket of snow about
daylight which continued to fall the entire day. At Knoxville, Dr.
Moore of the company died as also Dr. Jarrett's negro man Wash. Henry
Donoho rejoined command. Ed King was left at Knoxville sick and Brown
was transferred to the Ordnance Department.

Nov. 9th found battery again at Dunlap, Tenn., whence it went to
Shelbyville by the 25th.

On Thursday, Nov. 27th, Sergt. Horace Martin was detailed to go to
Tuscaloosa to obtain clothing for the company. Lt. Eb Hargrove left
same day on furlough. Friday, Dec. 5th, it was snowing heavily, but the
orders were received to cook two day's rations and be ready to move by
12:00 o'clock but weather proved too bad for any movement.

On Dec. 7th John F. Tarrant got his discharge for disability. Left
Shelbyville on Dec. 7th, travelled pike 6 or 8 miles and bivouaced for
night. A stable made quite comfortable quarters for as many as it would
hold. On Monday marched through Unionville to one and a half miles from
Eaglesville and camped. Friday, Dec. 20th, Eaglesville to Murfreesboro,
joining again Reserve Battalion and meeting Wick Brown just arrived
with three boxes of goods from Tuscaloosa, bringing something for
nearly everybody.

On Dec. 28th Capt. Lumsden started for Richmond, Va., sick, taking
Corporal Sheperd with him. Lt. Cribbs was left in charge of the reserve
artillery, and Lt. Ed Tarrant in command of the Battery.

On Dec. 30th the rifle section was ordered to report to Gen.
Breckenridge on the extreme right of the army, facing the enemy on
Stone River north of Murfreesboro. The other section was in position in
yard of Mr. Spence's negro quarters but was moved nearer to the enemy
later in the afternoon where it remained all next day, the 31st of
Dec., 1862.


Murfreesboro

Dec. 31, 1862, most of the fighting was on the left wing when our
forces drove the Federals back several miles.

The battery was first stationed on the right, near a vacated house on a
hill. Here we found a barrel partly full of seconds unbolted wheat
flour and a skillet and we made up some biscuit and after the first
batch was cooked, the order came to move and we wrapped up the dough in
a cloth and that night after crossing Stone River and throwing up some
breastworks we cooked the balance on the shovels we had used for
ditching.

The battery was in an open field, in front of a large brick house on a
high hill where Rosecrang had massed his batteries after his right had
been driven back to a right angle with its first position. This was a
pivotal position and the point where the General is said to have
remarked after his first day's disaster, "Bragg is a good dog, but
Holdfast is better." Breckenridge made an attack on this position and
as he rode into the fight, I thought him the finest looking man I had
ever seen on horseback. But the position was too strong to be taken,
although Bragg was in person on the field not far from us. That night
at mid-night, the order came to hitch up and leave. One of the drivers
reported that the horses hitched to the pole of one of the caissons,
had eaten off about three feet of the seasoned oak pole. I told him to
tie an extra pole under the one gnawed to a point with the halters from
the horses and we marched off in retreat. The horses were almost
starved as well as the men. After going a little way on the pike, the
column halted and the men marched by barefooted some of them on the
frozen pike, while we built up a fire and Sergt. Hargrove, standing in
front of it, had half the tail of his overcoat burned off before the
warmth reached his skin.

Marching all night, we met Dr. Leland next morning, muddy as if he had
been on a fox hunt in "Bear Heaven" and Jim Craddock, a noted dude,
with his coat neatly buttoned and his collar clean. He was said to
sleep lying on his back in a tent with ten or a dozen men, and never
turned or moved lest he should disorder his clothing. But he was a
brave soldier. Lt. Cribbs had his horse killed and several from the
battery were lost here, the breastworks were nothing but rail piles
from an old fence.

For three days after the two armies faced each other and on the night
of Jan. 3, 1863, Bragg's army retreated.

On Jan. 4th Confederate scouts went six miles north of Murfreesboro
beyond the battle field but found no enemy. Both armies had retreated.
In the evening of the 4th Federals began to advance, slowly feeling
their way. Corporal James T. Searcy remained a prisoner at Murfreesboro
to attend to wants of his brother Reuben, fatally wounded and left in
hospital. He was exchanged at City Point near Petersburg, Va., April
12, 1863, and reached the battery at Estelle Springs, Tenn., on April
20th.

The reserve artillery encamped here until spring under Major Felix H.
Robertson. He kept all hands busy from early morn till dewy eve,
policing camp when not engaged in drill. Evidently he believed that
"Satin finds some mischief still for idle hands to do." Friends and
acquaintances from Tuscaloosa were on hand often during spring and
boxes of supplies had been frequent arrivals.

May 14, 1863, on Thursday night orders came for 2 day's rations to be
cooked up and to be ready to move by 6:00 a.m. Friday.

We moved out through Tullahoma and Roseland and camped four miles from
Shelbyville and ordered to clear ground for our pack of artillery.
Remained till June 5th, ordered to report to Gen. Clayton's Brigade.
Two days march in mud and rain toward Murfreesboro, was the sum total
of our service with him for on Saturday night, June 6th, we were back
with the Reserve Artillery again. Some of our men were great hunters
and when Shuttlesworth caught an old coon with her litter of young
ones, he gave a feast to his friends. Lt. Tarrant resigned, returned to
Tuscaloosa and raised another Artillery company of which he became
captain and Sette Shepherd as Lieutenant and Wm. Tarrant also.

On June 26th Battery marched to Tullahoma and was unlimbered in battery
as if for a fight with 2nd section in a fort but on Tuesday, the 30th,
took line of march for the Cumberland mountains through rain and mud
through Alezonia to Decherd where guns and ammunition boxes were put on
train wagons and carriages marched toward Sewanee or the University of
the South. On July 5th, crossed Tennessee river on pontoon bridge after
a weary march over hills and mountains through mud and rain. July 7th,
Tuesday, Corp. Searcy was appointed Sergeant Major of Battalion thus
removing him from the company.

Lt. Cribbs returned from Tuscaloosa on Friday night, July 10th, with a
lot of supplies for the company, which he found at the foot of Lookout
mountain near Chattanooga, we remained till Sept. 10th, and then were
assigned to Breckenridge's Division for a week just arrived from
Mississippi minus artillery. On Sept. 16th, again with Reserve near
Lafayette. The two armies were on the move, maneuvering for position,
culminated in battle of Chickamauga, Sept. 20, 1863.

The whole army itching for a fight, while encamped at Tullahoma an
examining board had been appointed for Artillery officers for service
in the Ordnance Department consisting of Col. Wm. Leroy Brown of the
Richmond Arsenal; Col. H. Oladowski, Chief of Ordnance of Bragg's army
and Lt. Col. James H. Kennard, Chief of Ordnance Officer Hardee's
Corps. Orderly Sergeant Little went before this Board on Wednesday for
the Lieutenant's examination and on Friday for that of Captain and
having made the highest average in either the army of Tennessee or that
of Virginia was ordered to report for duty at the C. S. Central
Laboratory at Macon, Ga., to Lt. Col. John William Mallett,
Superintendent of Laboratories. He remained there until he knew the
battle was imminent at Chickamauga and applied for and secured a four
day's leave of absence to join Lumsden's Battery, which he learned at
Gen. Bragg's headquarters was some twenty miles distance at Lafayette.
Col. Hallonquist was then Chief of Artillery and offered him the
command of Gaskin's Battery from Brookhaven, Mississippi, whose Captain
was absent on sick leave. With the consent of the Lieutenants, he
accepted this proposition and took charge of this Battery during the
battle of Chickamauga under Major Gen. W. H. Walker who was killed at
Atlanta on duty and was assigned to Gen. Bragg's staff as assistant to
the chief of Ordnance and afterwards served as Ordnance Officer of
Clayton's Brigade, then of the Division of Cleburne, Bate, Brown
Chetham, and of the corps of D. H. Hill, Breckenridge and Hardee and
after a temporary command of the University of Alabama section of
artillery during Wilson's raid into Alabama, closed his service with
Gen. Howell Cobb at Macon, Ga., having been in meantime assigned to
duty as Chief of Ordnance Officer as Lt. Col. of Artillery, of Hardee's
Corps army of Tennessee. During the battle of Chickamauga Lumsden had
one private--Screniver--killed, several wounded, one gun dismounted and
temporarily captured. Several men captured, among them Chas. Jerome
Fiquet, Jr. The gun was recovered next day, but was replaced by a
better one captured from the enemy, with which Sept. 25th they kept up
a slow fire on the enemy's breastworks at Chattanooga.

The battery was soon withdrawn from the besieging lines and joined the
camp of Robertson's Battalion at the foot of Lookout mountain,
reporting to Gen. Longstreet. Here about Oct. 15, 1863, the battery
received a recruit in the person of James R. Maxwell. He had since
April 1, 1862, been serving as a cadet from University of Alabama Corps
drill master with the 34th Alabama Regiment of Infantry, Col. J. C. B.
Mitchell but on the rolls of company C. of said Regiment as a private.
He obtained a transfer and reported for duty to Capt. Lumsden at this
place. Prior to this date these reminiscences have been written up from
a diary kept by Sergeant Major James T. Searcy, up to July 24, 1863,
date of last entry, finishing up the Tullahoma campaign of the spring
of 1863 and from a few of Mr. Searcy's letters home thereafter. The
succeeding pages, covering the services and camp incidents of the
command are written entirely from memory by the author. Dates verified
as far as possible from official records. On being transferred to this
command, I had with me a negro body servant named Jim Bobbett, taken
from my father's plantation, whence he left a wife, but no children. He
was allowed to come at his own request, and had been with me from the
time I entered service as drill master of the 34th Alabama. There were
perhaps a dozen or more servants connected with the Battery, some
belonging to commissioned officers, others to privates, all subject to
their master's orders, but of course subject to control by the officers
of the company also. Without any legislation or orders of army
commanders, such servants were part and parcel of the commands to which
their owners belonged, and cheerfully did their part in connection with
the commissaries of their commands, being utilized largely as company
cooks. For such service they were welcomed by the commisary department
and got their share of the rations, but I do not think they were ever
enrolled, as a matter of record. Their masters wanted them, and the
hardships of a soldier's life were very much ameliorated by them. As a
rule they were liked by all, and were glad to assist any and all
soldiers for small rewards and even for personal thanks. They were
great foragers, for their masters first, and next for their own and
their master's friends. The officers at this time where Capt. Chas. L.
Lumsden and Second Lt. A. C. Hargrove, Lt. H. H. Cribbs was at home
sick and soon afterwards resigned. The weather was stormy, rains came
in deluges and bridges between camp and Chickamauga station were washed
away, cutting off our supplies. Forage getting short, Capt. Lumsden
detailed perhaps 20 men to go on horses over into Wills Valley to the
west of Lookout mountain. The road to be traveled was the dirt road
skirting the base of the cliff about half way up the mountain, above
the Tennessee river opposite the Moccasin bend. The Federals had a
battery entrenched on Moccasin Point, just across the river. The detail
left before day and passed the danger point before it was light enough
to be seen. By mid-day sufficient forage of corn and fodder had been
obtained. Each horse and mule resembled a perambulating haystack, for
it was loaded with two big sacks filled with corn on each side and as
many bundles of fodder as could be tied on with ropes.

Sergeant John Little had charge of the squad, containing among others
Alex Dearing, Ed King, Rufe Prince, Dave Jones and other names not
remembered. It was a sort of picnic. The men bought chicken, butter and
butter milk and got the farmers women to cook for them. Dave Jones
bought a bee gum of honey and had a time getting out the honey, with
all the crowd assisting. Then again it was good for sore eyes to loaf
around in a farmer's front yard and his door steps and see his wife and
daughters flitting about, and every now and then get to talk to them a
little. Calico dresses and sun bonnets perhaps, but they were a treat
to the soldiers, who were tired of seeing nothing but men for so long.
The detail put off having to pass the front of that battery so long as
they could and had their frolic out. But they had to pass that point in
daylight, in order to have time to get over the balance of that
mountain road, with each animal loaded in the manner it was. There was
no way of dodging it. There were rocks and woods and cuts in the road,
that would protect on each side, but sight in front of the battery for
perhaps forty yards or more on the road was cut out of the precipice,
and for that distance it was a "run of the gauntlet." Arriving at the
place, the men crowded the cut on the west side of each man on his
animal made ready and as his name was called, at perhaps 30 yards
interval, he made his rush as fast as he could persuade his animal to
go.

The enemy could only take pot shots at one animal and not at a crowd.
Those Yankees surely had sport, but they did not get to fire each of
their four guns many times before all were past the bald place without
the loss of man or animal. They yelled and we yelled back that they
could not shoot worth "shucks." They shelled the woods along the route,
but our men were out of sight and did not tarry till each reached some
cover, when he halted for them to ease up, which they soon did not
being able to see anything to shoot at. They had their fun target
shooting. Our boys had the fun of dodging. As there were no casualties,
it could always be looked back upon, with a sportsman point of view, as
one of our funny episodes. A few days thereafter camp was moved over
beyond the top of Missionary Ridge, about Oct. 23rd into a woodland
location, with plenty of spring and creek water nearby. To soldiers in
camp a living spring was a blessing, as it was the only security
against contamination and consequent disease.

Supposing the camp might turn out to be winter quarters, a long shelter
was built to cover about 100 horses, with troughs made from hollow logs
and racks for long forage. The men began to arrange themselves in
congenial "messes" and to build pole cabins with fire places of sticks
and mud plaster, and "bunks."

At the camp a lot of boxes of provisions and clothing arrived in charge
of Mrs. Jane Durrett from Tuscaloosa for different Tuscaloosa boys.
This good patriotic lady would leave her home and husband on a
Tuscaloosa County farm and take charge of batches of supplies,
provisions, clothing, etc., for officers or men. She saw to it, that
every box was delivered to the soldier to whom it was sent. No man
could have done this work as she did it. Neither the pompous little
Lieutenant in charge of a provost guard, nor train guard, nor
commanders of posts, nor the General in command of an army had any
terrors for her. They were all means to be lent to the service that she
was on. In the car, where her boxes went, she went, when she got with
them, as far as railroad could carry her goods, her quick Irish wit and
flattering tongue would soon get an order from some competent artillery
for wagons and drivers and an ambulance for herself, to take her goods
to their destination, and she delivered them in person to whomsoever
they had been sent, officers or privates. She served one equally as
heartily as the other. Of course she had to rough it, and see much
hardship and exposure, but she gloried in so serving her country. She
had several sons in the army doing their duty also, as became men from
such stock. Jim Bobbett, my body servant, Rube, Alex Dearing's man and
some of the other company darkies had also been south on the railroad
looking out for supplies. Our messenger got a big fat gobbler, we
cooked him in a big three legged cast iron wash pot. Mr. Menander
Rosser reminds me that Dr. James T. Searcy, (now Superintendent of the
Alabama Bryce Hospital for the Insane) was boss of that job, he put in
good time for some days previous to the feast in stuffing corn meal
dough down that turkey's throat, to make sure of his being good and fat
at the proper time. Can you see the picture, Searcy on a log, gobbler
between his knees, left forefinger and thumb prying open the gobbler's
mouth, while the balance of his left hand kept the neck straight up;
right hand rolling up enormous bread pills and forcing them into the
gobbler's mouth, and manipulating them down to the craw. Henry Donoho
holding the bread pan assisting in rolling the pills. Several others of
the mess, much interested in the operation, scattered around. We first
parboiled him till nearly tender, with an oven lid covering the pot.
Then we filled him with biscuit and hard-tack crumbs and pieces of fat
bacon, and cut onions and sage and the chopped gizzard and liver, all
mixed; boiling down the water meanwhile to a rich gravy. Then we put
the stuffed turkey in again, put on the cast oven lid heaping red hot
oak and hickory coals on top and under the pot. If the reader knows
something about cooking, it is plain that this gobbler was cooked to a
delightful brown, brown all over, with the juice oozing out of his
skin. And that turkey was not all of that dinner. Out of the boxes from
home came material for mashed potatoes, boiled rice, cowpeas, bread and
biscuit and butter, and dried peaches for a big "biled cat" for dessert
with butter and brown sugar for sauce. "Biled Cat"! Eat "Biled Cat!"
Yes, indeed! Soldiers thought "biled cat" good enough for any body. Its
composition was biscuit dough, rolled out into a sheet one-fourth of an
inch thick, spread with stewed dried apples or peaches, seasoned with
sugar and spice and everything nice, to another half inch in thickness;
rolled up into a long roll and then rolled up in a clean towel or flour
sack, tied up and dropped into a pot of boiling water and boiled until
done. When done the cloth unrolled and the contents cut into sections
one-half an inch thick and deluged with "butter and sugar" sauce, it
delightfully filled all the spaces and perhaps somewhat distended a
Confederate soldier's stomach, who had already enjoyed a real good
turkey and fixings dinner. What a change that was from the regular
daily diet of corn pone and rancid bacon, boiled with cowpeas
containing about three black weevils to the pea. As some declared most
of the peas were already seasoned enough without any bacon. At such
times soldiers would live lavishly. They knew, "we are here today,
where we shall be tomorrow, no one can tell." We enjoyed our good
things while we could. When they were gone, we would get back to
cornbread and bacon or beef hash or boiled beef as best we could, and
very often the transition "was awful sudden." In winter quarters, we
might be saving, and make good things last as long as possible but in
intervals of a campaign, we would live whilst we could and "take no
thought for the morrow."

While on the subject of "grub," who of us does not think of our
efficient "boss" cook, Tom Potts? Can not each of us see him now in
this camp behind Missionary Ridge. There he sits day and night (except
perhaps 9:00 or 10:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. when he sleeps) in his split
bottom chair, in front of the center pole of his tent. Behind him his
wall tent, each side piled up with boxes and barrels and sacks of meal,
flour, salt, sugar, bacon, the only man in camp who always has a good
tent because it is absolutely a necessity. A tall, slouch-shouldered
man, wide brim felt hat, black hair almost to his shoulders, complexion
very dark, long black moustache and whiskers and eternally, when awake,
a big black meerschaum in his mouth, puffing away. Very quiet, slow
soft spon, he occasionally gives some directions about the cooking to
the negroes and to the white soldiers detailed to cook. He is nothing
of a hustler, but he has directed negroes from his boyhood up and is as
efficient a "boss cook" as the army contained without any bluster. Six
or eight feet in front of him, a big hickory oak fire, say ten feet
long, with glowing coals under the logs, skillets, ovens and pots all
occupied in baking bread or boiling beef under the hands of the negro
men, who delighted in the work and joke and grin and laugh or jump out
and dance part of a jig, whilst another claps his hands and pats knees
for the music. Occasionally Potts may quietly say to his negro man,
"Jim" I wish you would hand me a cup of water." He keeps his seat,
drinks, hands back the cup and goes on smoking. No man in the army has
a better colored meerschaum. On the march or while the army was in the
trenches, rations are issued, cooked, the bread being baked and the
beef boiled, bacon or salt pork is issued raw, the soldiers eating it
raw, or boiled on coals, if convenient and the meat not too scant. In
permanent camp, the soldiers drew the rations raw or cooked as they
preferred almost always each mess preferred to do its own cooking. With
us confederates, bread was mostly corn pone, sometimes biscuits,
sometimes hard-tack. Cold cornbread or hard-tack crumbled into a tin
can and boiled with perhaps a few scraps of meat was "cush" and "cush"
tasted good, hot off the coals, after a hard day's march or fighting.

The writers opinion is that the word comes from Louisana where now the
Creole French takes his turn of corn to mill and has it ground into
what the American calls "grits," but the Frenchman of Lousiana, calls
it "cous cous."

At one time the Confederate government experimented with a mixture of
cowpea flour and wheat flour, for the making of a nourishing hard tack.
Doubtless it was nourishing enough, when there was plenty of time to
boil them soft enough to eat, but most men's teeth were not able to
grind them. It took a hatchet of ax to break them up and the broken
pieces resembled shiny pieces of flint rock. They were not so great a
success for the soldier on the march as the inventor expected. Every
day some of the officers and men would get permission to go to the top
of the Ridge, visiting friends, in different commands, on the lines
facing Chattanooga, so we kept in touch with what could be seen and
heard of the situation. At the distance, the Yanks could be seen moving
about in Chattanooga like ants in a hill and just about as much could
be told as to what they were doing, as could be told by a man watching
the doings of ants at a distance that will barely allow them to be
distinguished.

Soon after our big dinner, Major Robertson ordered Capt. Lumsden and
one of the other batteries to be ready to march at dusk, taking only
the gun detachment and guns with their carriages, leaving the caissons
in camp with their horses and drivers.

These two companies were led during the night by a guide to the
Tennessee river at a point a few miles above Chattanooga, with all
hands warned not to speak above a whisper and to prevent all noise of
movement possible and placed in position, along an open field, on top
of bank of river, between midnight and day, with the information that a
Federal command was just across the river in camp and only picketing
confederate soldiers along our bank. So we lay, waiting for daylight,
some sleeping, some chatting in whispers, in as comfortable position as
the ground afforded.

Just before daylight orders were passed around to get "into battery",
with cannoneers at posts and to load with shells, with fuses cut to 200
yards (point blank range) and when ordered to fire, to continue to load
and fire till ordered to cease firing and move away.

Major Robertson sat his horse at a point where he had previously been
in daylight, from which he knew he could get the first glimpse of the
Yankee camp opposite, when it should be light enough. The other
officers all on their horses in their proper positions in each battery,
all drivers mounted and cannoneers at post, with guns loaded and
primers stuck in the gun vents, lanjords in the hands of No. 4
cannoneer. From across the river the Yankee bugle rang out with the
"reveille", call and instantly Major Robertson's voice "Battalion!
Ready! Fire!" Eight guns thundered almost as one and continued to fire
each about four shots to the minute for possibly six or eight minutes,
when a Federal battery replied. Then came Robertson's command, "Limber
to the rear! To the right, march! Gallop!" And away we went down the
river under the cover of the sheltering woods. A piece of shell took
off the arm of one of Lumsden's men, near the shoulder, as we moved
away. His name was Ray, a private from somewhere in Georgia. He was
attended and brought to camp in the ambulance and sent back to
hospital, whether he recovered or not, we are not sure.

It developed that this little expedition was arranged the day before by
Bragg's orders, as a sort of reconnaissance, to find out whether or not
the Yankees had any artillery at this point, and the opposite side of
the river. His order to Robertson was to leave at once if answered by
artillery and not to engage in an artillery duel. All along the route
of return to camp, the different commands in the trenches wanted to
know what all that racket meant up the river. "We never heard guns fire
so fast in our lives before." "We thought the ball must be about to
open again, etc." By mid-day we were back in our camp again.

The battery remained in this camp till Tuesday, Nov. 24th, the morning
of the battle of Missionary Ridge, when camp was broken and wagons sent
to rear with all camp equipage. The fighting part was ordered to top of
ridge near Gen. Bragg's headquarters. There we remained with the battle
field stretched out before us, simply ready to move, and viewing the
great disaster to the confederate army to our left, we could take no
part, could get to no point where needed. Below us, in our immediate
front and to our right, our men held their own manfully. Orderlies and
aids galloped to headquarters, orderlies and aid galloping away again.
It filtered down to us that on our extreme left, the Yankees had gained
the ridge and so taking our army on its left flank. In the afternoon
came orders to us, to move to the rear. We soon found ourselves
traveling rearward with lots of wounded infantry and so continued till
we crossed Chickamauga creek and took a position to protect the
crossing if necessary. Here we remained until next morning Nov. 25th
till 9:00 a.m., the boys finding in a deserted smoke house a barrel
about half full of beef tallow. It was broken up and distributed around
and came in afterwards to melt up for biscuit shortening. It tasted
very well, when biscuits were eaten hot, but to be eaten cold it is not
to be recommended.

Hastening to Chickamauga station, we found the torch had been applied
to all the warehouses and commisary supplies that our people had been
unable to move during the night.

Gen. John Breckinridge was at the depot and ordered Capt. George
Little, then on his staff, to get his old Kentucky Brigade and a good
battery and place them in the breastworks around the depot to protect
the rear in retreat.

He found Lumsden's battery and they remained with the Kentuckians until
Sherman's troops had approached within a short distance and were about
to cut them off on the east of the railroad, when Gen. Breckinridge
ordered them withdrawn to a ridge about one-half a mile to the east
where Gen. Cleburne had drawn up his division. As we crossed the
railroad, shells from Sherman's battery were falling around the depot.
Several women were on the station platform when the first shells
hurtled past. Some dropped to their knees in prayer. The balance
followed the soldiers to a barn for cover. The kneeling ones were
quickly snatched to their feet and hurried away. Despite the shelling,
every passing confederate took time to fill his haversack with
hard-tack, sugar or anything that came handy and to secure as big a
slab of bacon as he could find transportation for. Our gun carriers
were regularly festooned with "Old Ned," as the boys called bacon. On
the first hill east of the station the battery went into position, and
as soon as the enemy appeared, opened on them and so continued to fire
on their advancing lines until ordered to leave the position, and away
we went at a gallop to the next available point and into battery again.
So we continued all that afternoon, assisting the infantry rearguard of
the army on that road, contesting the enemy's advance as much as
possible. When night came we continued in a slow retreat, the road
being blocked with wagons and artillery and in terrible condition with
mud and ruts. A mile or two per hour being the best we could do. About
midnight we came to a point where another road joined ours, along which
another Corps had retreated, with a high ridge ahead of us to cross,
mud being in many places axle deep. We had gotton half way up the hill,
when the Yanks attacked the rear squad of the other Corps below us. We
could see the opposing rifle flashes near the foot of the hill and the
minie balls were singing on all sides. It took all the power of the
teams and all the men who could get hold of each wheel to get those
wagons and artillery carriages over that hill, and out of reach of the
enemy while the infantry rear squad held our pursuers in check with a
midnight fight in which no man could see another twenty feet away.
Everybody and everything was of course coated with mud, but the Yankees
got nothing for their pains. When the pursuing forces of Osterhau's
division, sustained by Hooker's Corps reached Ringgold gap, Cleburne
had prepared an ambush for them and after holding them in check until
night, repulsing successive charges and inflicting heavy loss on the
enemy. Gen Hardie sent an order to Cleburne, who with Gen. Breckinridge
and staff, were at the gap to withdraw the rear squad to Dalton, a
former member of our company, by order of Gen. Breckinridge burned the
two bridges across the Chickamauga and that night the army took
position at Rocky face ridge where it remained until May 6, 1864. This
ended the campaign for the year as far as the reserve artillery was
concerned, for when we reached Dalton, we were assigned a camp ground
and at once went to work preparing quarters for the winter the date
being Nov. 26, 1863.

In close proximity to a running brook and nearby springs we built log
huts. Each mess was composed of individuals who associated at their own
wills, without any interference of military rules or company officers.
The camp was located in a nice piece of woodland, composed of oak,
hickory, pine etc., on the western side of the brook or branch, from
which the ground rose at a gentle slope towards the east and west, the
flow being towards the north. On the eastern slope, just opposite the
center of the battalion park of artillery, Major Felix H. Robertson
located his headquarters camp, with Sergeant Major James T. Searcy as
his aide.

Ranged along the western slope, were the four batteries of four guns
each, that composed the battalion, Lumsden's on the right, then
Barrett's, Massingale's and Havis' batteries. Behind the guns of each
battery were the huts of the men, about one half on each side of a wide
street reaching back perhaps one hundred yards, at the head of which
streets were located the quarters of the officers of the companies.

Each mess built its own hut or cabin on such plan as suited themselves
and their number of individuals. The commissioned officers of each
company with their negro servants built their own.

The general plan of each hut was about a 12 x 14 foot space, ground
brought to a level. Two sides of 16 foot poles and back end of 14 feet
were notched up at the corners to a height of about seven feet. The
front end consisted of a fire place and rammed earth, with a stick and
mud chimney and the doorway poles notched down on the side walls at top
provided joists about 7 feet above the earthen floor, on outer ends of
which joists, plates were laid to support the foot of the pole rafters.
Boards of four feet in length split out from cuts of straight grained
pine, made a water tight roof. Cracks between the logs were daubbed
with mud which soon dried. The joists were thrown on top of them and
gable ends of the same kind of boards that made the room. Bunks three
or four feet wide made in two tiers were at rear end and sides bottomed
with small poles, and broom-sedge and oak and pine leaves, with a
blanket spread over. Four-legged slabs made good benches, but many
split bottom chairs were obtained from country chair makers. With a
good log fire three or four feet long in the fire place and an old
blanket hung in the doorway, soldiers were fixed to defy the coldest
days of winter and sleep in comfort on the coldest nights. A good fat
bed-fellow was a luxury not to be despised and on coldest nights,
"spooning" was the prevailing fashion with covering well tucked under.
When one wanted to turn over, it was necessary for the other to do the
same. Sometimes they would do so by word of command as if at drill with
"one time and two motions."

The daily military routine was "Reveille" at daybreak, stable call,
breakfast, guard mounting, police of park and camp a citizen would call
it, clearing up details to go out for forage and provisions. A few were
allowed each day permits to go out into the country on private foraging
expeditions, seeking to purchase chickens, eggs, milk, butter,
buttermilk, vegetables, etc., gun squad drills, dinner, and in fine
weather and good condition of the ground in afternoon often, field
drill of which battery, with guns, caissons, teams, cannoneers, drivers
and all stable call, supper, camp amusements of all kinds, tattoo and
finally taps. There were two buglers in the company, Charles M. Donoho
was at the company headquarters. He acted as messenger also. The other,
Rufus Menander Rosser was in the same mess as the writer. One of his
duties was to blow the Reveille call at a certain hour each morning.
His habit was to hang his bugle on the end of house plate that extended
at the door. One freezing night some of the boys emptied a gourd of
water into the open mouth of the bugle, thus filling the coils of same
with water. Next morning, at break of day, our friend Rosser essayed to
blow "Reveille." His cheeks expand nearly to bursting, but not a note
comes from the bugle, not even a part of a breath will pass through.
Rosser uncovers the glowing coals amongst the ashes, pushes together
the fire chunks and with his breath blows up a blaze and starts to
holding bugle in same. Footsteps of boots are heard outside. They stop
at our door and in pops the head of Lt. A. C. Hargrove with the
question, "Rosser! why have you not blown Reveille?" But his eyes take
in the situation, while he asks the question, and Rosser's answer,
"Lieut., some rascal has filled my bugle and it's full of ice," is
really not needed. Off stalks the Lieut. to find Donoho, and his bugle
soon sings out the familiar notes. At the end of which, each man is in
ranks, front faced by the Orderly Sergeant who calls the company roll
and then a new day's duties are begun.

Thereafter Rosser's bugle forms part of his pillow, for allowing such a
mishap to occur again would mean extra work at some drudgery. The
officers daily report would show up the excuses, but the boys got some
little fun out of such tricks. We were all afraid of Major Robertson.
His reputation was that of a harsh disciplinarian and our company was
largely composed of young men of the highest social ranks. The fear was
general that for some little disobedience of orders, or some infraction
of military red-tape, some punishment might be ordered by him, that the
culprit would rather die than submit to something degrading. We had
some object lessons. The Major's hostler came to camp one night drunk.
At some order of the Major, the fellow let in and gave the officer a
vile cursing, with opprobrious epithets, called him a half "Injin",
etc., and worse still, common rumors had it that the Major did have
Indian blood in him and he was called generally "Comanche Robertson",
but its only foundation was his unusually dark complexion and eyes.

The sergeant of the guard was sent for and the obstreperous fellow
forced off to the guard house. Next morning the sergeant was ordered to
bring the poor devil to the Major's quarters, and hang him up by
strings tied to his thumbs, with hands behind his back, till only his
toes could touch the ground. So he was kept until he was almost frozen
stiff. The whole command recognized the fact that the culprit deserved
the severest kind of punishment. He was of a class that could not
appreciate leniency and yet the men were inexpressibly shocked to see
such torture. To see a confederate soldier subjected to brutal
punishment under the very eyes of the insulted officer did not seem to
be the proper thing. Had he been courtmarshalled and shot, it would not
have shocked us half so much, but to see a white man, a volunteer
serving the Confederacy subjected to a punishment that public opinion
of the South would have considered brutal on even a negro slave,
notwithstanding the recognized heinousness of the officer, went to our
hearts.

The effect on the men in the ranks was not good, the utter helplessness
of a private was brought home to us. It was hurtful to pride as
Confederate soldiers serving our country for duty's sake, and fear of
officers replaces badly a soldier's pride in his work. Each soldier
from that time feared Robertson. Had this soldier watched his chance
and murdered the officer, and then deserted to the enemy, the general
opinion would have been that such action was to have been expected.

That such did not happen, showed that the disgrace was not keenly felt,
by reason of the social state from which the soldier sprung, something
on the New Orleans "wharf rat", order. One morning between midnight and
day, one of my mess-mates was on guard at the stable lot, a mild spring
morning, and the moon shining. He got tired "walking his post" so he
climbed on top of the fence, under shadow of a tree and there took his
seat overlooking the lot. He expected to be able easily to see or hear
any inspecting officer first and to be able quietly to slide down and
resume "walking his post" from under the shadow without being caught,
"sitting down on a post," a disobedience of military orders always.

All at once a voice just behind him, outside the fence calls out,
"Where's the sentinel here?" and there stood the Major. "Here I am,
Sir!" "Get down and walk your post, Sir!" "All right, Sir!" But very
shortly after, the Corporal came from the guardhouse, with a
Supernumerary of the guard and relieved our friend, who was marched off
to guard quarters under arrest.

Next morning he was turned over a prisoner to the charge of the
succeeding guard, with a feeling of wonder hanging over him as to what
sort of punishment he might expect. But he did not have to wonder long.
The officer of the day came to guard quarters with instructions to give
this prisoner an axe and a pick and to set him to grubbing a big pine
stump in the battery park, i.e., the ground occupied by the gun
carriages and caissons in regulation order. My recollection is, that
the stump lasted our friend several days and that it took some little
help of his body servant, Rube, in the small hours of the night to get
that stump out of the ground.

The grubber was busy about it during the day, and slept around the
guard house fire of a night, until the stump got out of the ground.
Then he was sent for to Battalion Headquarters and our Major gave him
quite a gentlemanly admonition, as to such "lapse from duty," etc.,
which was thankfully received and duly noted. Now this offense against
military rules must needs have some punishment, and this punishment was
received in good part, and there was no degradation in it. Our friend
took the chances, got caught and cheerfully took his medicine without a
shadow of ill will against the officer ordering it. Rather he was much
obliged to him for the leniency of it. It was on a par with a quite
common punishment imposed on soldiers, "straggling" on a march. One of
his superior officers coming upon him a way behind his command on the
road would say: "Well, what is the matter, Mr. Smith or Jones?" Oh! I
just dropped out to get some water from a spring." "Were you detailed?
Where's your canteens?" "No Sir! I just dropped out!" "All right, you
take a rail off that fence and bring it along, and we'll go on
together." There was no help for it. He'd have to "carry that rail." At
least as long as the officer chose to stay along with him. When he
wanted to ride ahead and leave the rail carrier, it would be, "Well
Smith, I'll ride on, catch up soon, or I'll have to report you for
straggling." Away the officer would go, down would go the rail, and
Smith would probably catch up at the next resting place. Soldiers never
minded such punishments inflicted in the line of military discipline.
The more intelligent the private, the more he was cognizant of the
necessity of discipline to an army, to prevent its disintegrating into
a mob. The officer and the private might be close personal friends
individually, but as soldiers, one commanded, the other obeyed.

During the winter quarters, an election was held for the Junior Second
Lieutenant, as commonly called. The two principal candidates were
Orderly Sergeant John A. Caldwell, and private Robert W. Foster, both
planters sons, both equally educated, and both from Tuscaloosa County.
My impression is that Foster received the most votes, and he was of a
most popular disposition. It is probable that Caldwell's being Orderly
Sergeant, had lost him some votes, as no man in authority, could always
please everybody, and be of any account.

Then each candidate had to stand an examination by a Board of Officers
in some way, Caldwell got the commission. Foster felt much that he had
been treated unfairly and wrote out an application to be transferred to
the Confederate Navy. This he sent to Bragg's headquarters direct, not
up through the hands of company Battalion Officials. Bragg ordered him
court martialled for this breach of military etiquette. The result was
a verdict of guilty and a sentence to solitary confinement on bread and
water diet for a certain number of days. A small log hut was built
close to guard quarters 10×6 feet inside, 7 feet deep, without any
door, the ceiling of heavy logs and roofed over, with the ordinary
split boards. Foster had to climb over the wall and into the hut
through a hole left in the ceiling for the purpose, logs were replaced,
and roof also. His blankets of course were put in with him. His mess
carried him, his big thick bread, and it was not all dough between the
crusts. We do not think that water alone quenched his thirst. He had
the sympathy of the whole command, who believed that his sentence was
out of all reason, for a violation of military "red tape," and perhaps,
treading on some one's corns. But Lumsden saw the ill effects, threats
were being made to tear the hut down, and release him; and the finest
kind of soldiers were beginning to get sulky. So he mounted his horse
and went to Bragg's headquarters. What transpired there none of us ever
knew, but Lumsden rode back with orders for Foster's release and
restoration to duty. The whole thing was a mistake, first on Bragg's
part, and lastly in the sentence placed by the officers who constituted
the military court. A mere reprimand would have been ample, and not
caused any sulkiness among spirited men. Forcible release of the
prisoner would surely have resulted in serious consequences to many,
and the possible ruining of a good command. We relate the incident as
illustrating the traits of character of the two officers.

Bragg's want of tact, and Lumsden's possession of that same quality in
the handling of volunteer citizen soldiers. Foster had probably more
friends than ever in the whole battalion.

When not on duty, the men in camp followed their own inclinations.
Books and letters and games, of all kinds. Furloughed men went home and
returned for others to go. Boxes of provisions and clothing came first
to one and then to another from home. Some had good musical talents,
and impromptu concerts were of almost nightly occurrence. H. Calib
Peterson, and others of like talents, contributed largely to the
amusements of the camp, with ministrel shows and songs with banjos,
bones, reed, and other accompaniments. One of the books that went the
rounds was "St. Twelmo," a traversity on Miss Augusta Evans, (Mrs.
Wilson), St. Elmo, the heroine of St. Twelmo being described as being
such a "plenary pulchritude" with attainments to suit.

At company headquarters, when the full quota of officers was on hand,
were Capt. C. L. Lumsden, Lieuts. Eb H. Hargrove, A. C. Hargrove, John
A. Caldwell, and Cadet Lieut. Sykes. Also Chas. M. Donoho, bugler and
messenger, and Henry Donoho, his cousin, headquarter's clerk. But it
sometimes happened that every commissioned officer was away with Cadet
Sykes, left in the command. Caldwell, being promoted to Lieut., J. Mack
Shivers, was appointed Orderly Sergeant. The other Sergeants were John
Little, James Jones, (from Autauga County,) James Cordwell and Wilds,
with John Snow, quartermaster and commissary Sergeant.

The Corporals were: Thomas Owen, T. Alex Dearing, Wade Brook, and J. R.
Maxwell, gunners, J. Wick Brown, John Watson, W. B. Appling, and ----,
chiefs of caissons. About May 1st, 1864, Sherman moved out from
Chattanooga, and Lumsden's Battery left winter quarters for good, never
again to be in a permanent camp for any length of time.

It was placed on the left of railroad north of Dalton, on Mill creek
gap at east end of Rocky face ridge.

Gen. Joseph E. Johnston was now in command. The whole army had lost all
confidence in Bragg's ability to secure the fruits of victory, gained
by the hard fighting alone, of his troops. Perryville, Murfreesboro and
Chickamauga had also ended.

On May 8th, the enemy attacked Stevenson's Division, along Buzzard
Roost Ridge, east of railroad, and Mill creek gap with Geary's
Division. They were easily repulsed. Lumsden's battery assisting by
placing a few shells in the gap on the right of the attacking Division.
Geary reported a loss of 200 to 300 men, and that it was impossible to
take the position by assault. As Sherman's army forged to the South
west on its flanking movement, the battery was withdrawn, and on May
15th, next faced the enemy in a field of green wheat on the Oastenaula
river, below the railroad bridge at Resaca, 18 miles south of Dalton,
on the day of McPherson's attack at that point, but did not get to fire
a shot.

The position was on the west of a gentle rise, that inclined slightly
to our rear. Had infantry charged our front, a few steps forward, would
have enabled us to sweep the field. A Federal rifle battery, fired at
us for a while, where we lay on the ground barely covered from their
fire, when one of the shells skimmed the crest of the hill, it would
miss our back a foot or two and pass on with no damage to us. The
ground was hot under us, and the sun shining hot down on us, but we
avoided stopping any of the shots, and we could not reach them with our
smooth bores. We lay there, with our guns loaded with canister, ready
to stop an infantry charge, but it was all delivered farther to our
right. Our monotony was released by chatting and munching the contents
of our haversacks. We surely had a hot time there in the hot sun and
shell combination, but we had no causalities. We had protection from
Yankee projectiles, but none from those of Old Sol. It was McPherson's
corps in our forest and south westward to success the Oastenaula. His
rifle batteries commanded the railroad bridge, with pontoon and common
bridge below. That night Johnston's army withdrew across the
Oastenaula.

At Cassville thirty miles south of Resaca, on night of May 19th,
Johnston had contemplated giving Sherman a general battle.

Orders were read to all commands announcing the battle for next day.
Our men were ready, believing Johnston had Sherman's army where he
could whip first one portion, then the other, but for reasons about
which there is controversy, the attack of our right wing on the enemy
the next morning was delayed, the opportunity was lost and the retreat
continued. When we crossed the Etowah below Cartersville, the railroad
bridge was burned and the battery went into position facing the
crossing on a low, rocky ridge, in the afternoon.

The writer remembers, sitting down at the roots of a tree, and
immediately springing up, brushing the seat of his pants vigorously.
Examination showed that he had set down on a nest of little brown
scorpions. Something like a crawfish in shape, with tails turned up
over their backs, with a sting like a wasp's in the end of the tail.
The laugh of the boys was on him.

Some Federal cavalry rode down to the river, on the other side, but a
few shells scattered them, and at dark we again moved southward toward
New Hope church and Dallas.

On the afternoon of May 25th, traveling the sparsely settled country
road, about 2:00 p.m. a courier brought our Captain orders to rush his
guns forward, infantry and wagons giving space and away we went, the
cannoneers mounting on our gun carriages and caissons. Private James
Hogan, of Tuscaloosa, in attempting to mount a gun, limber in motion,
fell, one wheel of the gun passing over his body. A man was ordered to
stay with him and see that an ambulance carried him to a hospital. He
was so injured, as to prevent him serving further during the war. As we
drew near to New Hope church, we found infantry of Stewart's, corps,
hastily building log breastworks, along the right of the road, with the
rattle of heavy skirmishing in the thick forest in the front. Our
battery was ordered to turn aside to the left and go into battery and
wait. This threw us into position with our infantry line perhaps fifty
yards in our front. The Federals attacked with Hooper's corps in force,
and the battle of New Hope church was fought and won, by our infantry
line, we never getting a chance to fire a shot. Our cannoneers lying on
the ground at their posts ready to fire, should the infantry give back.
At dark we were placed in position on the infantry line and ordered to
intrench and by morning of 26th, we had a pretty fair earthwork in our
front facing a Federal battery. The woods were very dense, and it was
only a couple of hundred yards across the hollow to the Federal
entrenchments. Between the two lines the earth was strewn with the
Federal dead.

Both sides had skirmishers in rifle pits in front of them, and any
exposure of a portion of the body brought the "ping" of a bullet in
close proximity. One struck about an inch above the head of Lieut. A.
C. Hargrove, into the body of an oak against which he was sitting, a
little in rear of embankment. His head showed a little too high above
the breastworks. Two inches lower, it would have finished him. Both
sides had to lie close in daylight. A little to the rear and left was
the old church.

Capt. Lumsden sent a man to Gen. Quarles, who had his Brigade
headquarters just in rear of the church, to borrow a field glass. The
General and his staff wanted to know all about the situation, which was
described as well as possible. One of the aides handed over his
glasses, and requested the messenger to let them know whatever was
discovered in our front. It was suggested that he come along, "Oh no!
We don't think it necessary! You can tell us all about it when you
return back." The others laughed and said: "Go ahead, young man." Capt.
Lumsden thought he could make out a battery opposite, but it was
difficult to be sure as their lines were partly hidden by brush, like
our own. Our old Orderly Sergeant, now Capt. Geo. Little, on Gen.
Bate's staff, had letters and socks from home for his two brothers,
John and James, in our company, and rode up to the church where Gen.
Stewart was sitting on the steps and asked him where Lumsden's battery
was. He said they are just over there about 100 yards, but you can't
ride there, come behind the church with your horse, a man was killed
where you are sitting, just now. All was quiet then as could be. There
was a country graveyard between the church and our line. He left his
horse behind the church, and started to the battery, but in a moment
there were a hundred bullets pattering like hail on the clap boards
which covered the graves. He ran for cover in the trenches, and for ten
minutes the firing was kept up and then quieted down, when he slipped
back from the cover of one tree to another to the church, mounted his
horse and made his way back to his own quarters.

About June 4th, the Federals disappeared from our front at New Hope
church, and we moved back and toward Lost mountain and the railroad
which we crossed the next day, and on June 8th, went into position on a
ridge overlooking Big Shanty Station, being on the east side of
railroad. This new line came to be known as the Pine Mountain line.
Here we entrenched. On June 11th, we saw a rifle battery near Big
Shanty firing on our lines to the left. We fired on them. They replied.
Our trenches were a little below the top of the hill, with the limber
chests exposed, being higher than the works. Lumsden ordered them to be
run down close behind the works, which was done. But one Federal shell
exploded one of the chests while it was being moved. Sergt. J. Mack
Shivers was shoving it at the time but escaped much injury. The Yankee
battery withdrew from the open, and we shortly after, heard of Gen
Polk's death. We always believed that we were firing on the battery
that killed him. During all this time we were having heavy rains every
day. We have an idea that the whole army was wet to the skin every day
in June. One great trouble was to keep our corn bread dry until we
could eat it. But wet bread could be turned into "hot cush," whenever
we stopped long enough to have a fire and the weather being warm, our
clothing would get moderately dry between showers. The men had by this
time gotton pretty tough, and looked tough, and like a set of toughs.

Falling back on June 15th, from the Pine mountain line, to the Kennesaw
mountain line, to face Sherman, who was flanking to our left, the
battery first took position close to the top of the main spur of the
mountain, a little to the right and north of the top and entrenched
along with a lot of infantry. The only Federals who got within our
range at this position were a lot that crowded around a railroad water
tank, at the foot of the mountain. We put a few shells through the tank
scattering both Yanks and water. But the Yanks put a rifle battery off
in the valley, out of our reach and went to work on us scientifically.
They figured out our range and the very first shell burst about three
feet exactly over our breastworks, and the next one or so killed one of
our men, named Blackstock, a Georgian. A splinter clipped Horace
Martin's ear--marked him. Lt. Hargrove was on the bare top of the
mountain to see what he could see. They fired at him and the shell
struck the ground in his front, and ricochetted over his head, end over
end. It was certainly fine shooting and sport for those rifle gunners,
and doubtless they enjoyed it. We certainly did not, but each got to a
safe place and kept it, as soon as we found what those fellows could do
at over a mile distance. This was on June 19th. As this position was a
worthless one for our guns, we were ordered down and moved to the south
edge of Little Rinnew, relieving another battery. The change was made
during the night, and Lumsden was told that it was a hot place. So we
worked on the entrenchments from about midnight when we had arrived
until daylight. We made good embrasures, thickened the works in our
front and dug trenches for our caisson wheels close behind works, so
that axles lay on the ground. The limber chests were taken from gun
carriages and placed on ground close up to the works. That afternoon,
Col. Alexander, in command of the artillery along this line, came along
and Capt. Lumsden told him that he'd like to find out what the enemy
had over there. Col. Alexander told Lumsden, "Well, open on them and
I'll order the rifle battery further up little Kennesaw to your right
to support you." Lumsden gave him time to get up to the rifle battery,
and then came his command: "Cannoneers to your posts!" Each gunner was
told where to aim, and the estimated distance. Then: "Load! Battery
ready! Fire!" Those Yankees opened on our four-gun battery, with
twenty-four guns and the dirt was soon flying over and around us. We
fired rapidly and so did the rifle battery, but directly a shell came
through number 3 embrasure, killed Gurley, standing erect with thumb on
vent, plunged into caisson just behind and exploded all three chests
thereon. The flame exploded a cartridge lying on limber chest next to
the breastwork and our own shell went rolling around promiscuously. Lt.
Hargrove grabbed a slush bucket and proceeded to pour water into the
limber chest with the smashed top, where fuses were fizzling and
friction primers crackling in the tray above the loaded cartridges
thereon. Some of the boys yelled at him to let that thing go, but he
poured that water on, and put out those fuses. Every fellow was dodging
our own shells for a few minutes.

A tin strap from one of the sabots struck Corporal John Watson on the
tight seat of his pants, and he dropped flat, with his hands clapped on
the place where he had felt the blow, yelling: "Oh, I'm wounded, I'm
wounded." The laugh was on him, when it was found that his pants were
not even split.

Gracious! How those Yanks did yell, when the column of smoke went high
in the air from our exploded caisson. Well, all the satisfaction we got
out of the affair, was that "We found out, what the enemy had over
there," and we did not stir up that hornet's nest again. Occasionally,
they would plug at us, but we would lie low and not reply. One of their
24-lb. rifled parrot shells ricochetted over from the front one day
with out exploding. Some of the men got it unscrewed the percussion
fuse from its point and poured out a lot of powder, then dug out some
more with a sharp stick, until they thought it was about empty. Then
private Dan Kelly, got hold of it, stooped down to a flat rock and
jolted the point down on the rock. It struck fire, exploded and tore
Kelly's arm and hand all to pieces. He was sent to hospital, then home,
and I think died from the wound.

We more than evened up on the Yanks, a few days after, on June 27th,
when Thomas's and McPherson's corps swarmed over their works and
started for our lines in a determined assault. We filled the skirt of
woods in front, full of shells until their lines appeared in the open,
and then we swept the earth with canister and over their line of
infantry made every bullet count, so that in our immediate front, they
did not get nearer than 150 yards, and had to rush back to cover of
their own entrenchments. Our command had no causalities that day, but
many Federals were buried in trenches in our front, their total loss
officially reported in the assault was 2,500.

Here is what is recorded in Federal official records:

    "He (Sherman) Resolved: To attack the left center of Johnston's
    position, and orders were given on the 24th, that on the 27th,
    McPherson should assault near Little Kennesaw mountain (our
    position,) and that Thomas should assault about a mile further
    south, (to our left). Kennesaw was strongly entrenched, and held by
    Loring's and Hardee's corps, Loring on the right, opposite
    McPherson and Hardee on the left opposite Thomas. About 9:00 a.m.
    of the 27th, the troops moved to the assault and all along the line
    for ten miles a furious fire of artillery and musketry was kept up.
    A part of Logan's 15th corps, formed in two lines, fought its way
    up to the slope of Little Kennesaw, carried the confederate
    skirmish pits and tried to go further, but was checked by the rough
    nature of the ground, and the fire of artillery and musketry at
    short range from behind breastworks. Logan's assault failed with a
    loss of 600 men, and his troops were withdrawn to the captured
    skirmish pits * * * The assault was over by 11:30 a.m., and was a
    failure.

It was the most serious reverse sustained by Sherman during the
campaign. The entire Union loss was nearly 2,500.

Johnston admits a Confederate loss of 808 killed and wounded. That
ended Sherman's attempt to force our lines, and started his flanking
operations again. Soon we were ordered back southwest of the
Chattahoochee river, where we occupied a fort, overlooking the Western
& Atlantic railroad bridge, and were soon faced by the enemy with
infantry and artillery again entrenched, with a rifle battery on
opposite side of river three-quarters of a mile away. They would
occasionally try a little target practice at our fort. Our orders were
to refrain from firing unless an attempt was made to cross the river.
On our side there was merely infantry enough to picket the river.

The fort was an enclosed one, i.e., had parapet all around, and
embrassures in all directions, as if built to stand a siege even if
entirely surrounded by the enemy. Our four guns were its whole armament
however, fronting the river and its destroyed bridge below us.

We here bivouaced at ease. The slope in rear of fort had some shade
bushes and formed a comparatively safe camping grounds, but we lost one
man here who was in rear of, and outside of the fort. A rifle shell
just missed the front parapet, cut a furrow in the rear parapet, and
took off the head of a private, named Maner, another Georgian. Some of
us who were inside the fort saw his straw hat rise ten feet in the air
and knew that another comrade had gone.

Here, on July 17th, at evening roll call, technically named the
"Retreat" call, the memorable order was read to our command, relieving
Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, and placing Gen. J. B. Hood, in command of the
army. It was received in dead silence, and figuratively speaking "our
hearts went down into our boots," or whatever happened to be covering
our heel.

The army had still the fullest confidence in Johnston. They knew that
for more than two months he had baffled Sherman in spite of his
overpowering force of two to one, and had inflicted heavy losses on the
enemy, with small loss to his own army either in men or material. They
idolized Johnston and were ready to fight, whenever Johnston was ready.
They believed "Old Joe" knew his business, and did not believe that
Sherman could hold on to his line of supplies, and still surround the
city. They believed that President Davis had made a terrible mistake,
and that belief remains to the officers and men of the army of
Tennessee to this day. They admired Hood, his personal character and
gallantry, but they believed in Johnston as second only to Robert E.
Lee, and that the Confederacy did not hold another man who could so
well serve her.

Sherman moving the main portion of his army towards the northeast,
covered by the Chattahoochee, but still holding the W. & A. railroad
with his right wing, our battery was ordered to report to Gen. Wheeler,
who with his cavalry was on the extreme right of our army. We were
placed in position on the bank of the Chattahoochee, where a ravine
entered the river at a very acute angle, forming a narrow ridge between
river and ravine, so that by cutting down into the ground and throwing
the dirt out toward the ravine, we made level places for our guns with
a solid wall of earth as high as the muzzle of our guns, overlooking
the slope toward the river, the hills opposite, and the Federal
entrenchments along the upper edge of the fields with an embrasured
battery in view. Our entrenchment, as described, made no show. We were
there simply to guard against an easy crossing at this point.

Lt. A. C. Hargrove, next day was standing at the parapet near muzzle of
3rd piece talking to Corporal Maxwell, who was gunner to that piece. A
puff of smoke came from a Federal embrasure across the river and both
squatted below the protecting bank. The shell struck the body of an oak
tree standing just in front, and some twenty feet above the ground,
tearing off a heavy fragment, slightly larger than a man's forearm,
which came down with force, the end cutting through Hargroves' hat on
his forehead and to the skull, a gash two inches long. Maxwell said:
"Lieut., they are cutting at us close," still looking to the front.
Hargrove said: "Well, they got me." Maxwell turned around and there
stooped Hargrove, hat on ground, and his hands to his head, with blood
gushing through his fingers all down over him. He was much stunned with
the blow, but when Maxwell spread the lips of the wound, and the blood
ran out, the solid skull of his forehead showed uncrutched.
Nevertheless the blow threatened concussion of the brain, and he was
sent home for several weeks. Dr. N. P. Marlowe, then surgeon with
Wheeler's corps taking him in his own ambulance to the Hospital, after
dressing his wound.

The enemy crossing in force, lower down the river, our battery was
retired from this position and placed on the main line of defense
northeast of Atlanta, and was soon faced by the enemy again, after the
battle of Peachtree Creek, with his entrenchments forming quite an
angle in our front, some 800 yards away, but his lines stretched from
that angle almost perpendicularly away from us toward his left.

On July 22nd, Hardee's corps of Confederates attacked Sherman's left
and drove it for a long distance back toward his center. The right of
this fleeing corps came into our range making for the protection of
their works at this angle and Lumsden's guns shelled them just in front
of their own works as they reached them, we firing over the heads of
the Georgia militia, who were pushed forward across the valley as if to
join in an assault, but were soon returned to their works after
considerable loss.

Seeing these old citizens wounded and dying struck us with sympathy,
with somewhat of the same feelings we might have experienced at seeing
a lot of women sacrificed. They started in the charge, had withdrawn to
the trenches again. We were accustomed to that with regular soldiers,
but the sacrifice of these old citizens affected us to an unusual
degree.

Being relieved from this position, by a battery attached to an infantry
brigade that now occupied these trenches, we were sent to the rear and
parked near a stream south of Atlanta to wash up clothing and rest a
bit. But before our washing was dry, orders came to rush the battery to
a position some five miles southwest of Atlanta. We went at a gallop,
or trot, or walk as fast as we could rush the guns and caissons. With
the cannoneers hanging on as best they could. Reaching the position
just in time, meeting our infantry slowly falling back, before the
enemy, fighting as they retreated. We rushed "into battery," on a hill
at edge of open field, with the Federal infantry already past the way
across the field and opened on them with our usual rapid fire. In ten
minutes not a Federal could be seen except the few wounded or dead left
behind.

It was a terribly hot July afternoon and the men with jackets,
blankets, haversacks and all else possible strewn on the ground were
panting like dogs, and so wet with sweat as if just out of a river,
when they threw themselves down in the shade of the trees on the edge
of the field after the firing ceased with the disappearance of the
enemy. We had not lost a man. Our arrival and work was so quick that
the enemy rushed to the rear at once to the cover of the forest. Our
guns used some 33 or 34 rounds each in the short time in action.

All night infantry and artillery men worked with every available tool,
down to the bayonet to loosen up the earth, and half of a split canteen
to throw up the dirt and next morning found us entrenched in our new
line. But on the other edge of the field, the Yankee trenches showed up
some 800 yards away.

In this position Lumsden's battery remained nearly all the month of
August. Every few days we would have an artillery duel with the rifle
battery opposite. Sherman was now extending his right wing, which
finally led to the assault of Love Joy station, on the road south of
Atlanta. He had also brought down siege guns, that fired shells about
the size of nail keg, and was shelling the city. One Sunday we had a
particularly fierce duel with our opponents. It happened that the
embrasure of the 3rd piece flared a little more squarely to the front
of the others. Three whole shells struck the 3rd gun during the action,
each coming through the embrasure only about one foot in width. One
struck on top between trunnions and vent, gouging out the brass like a
half round chisel would have gouged a piece of wood, and glanced on to
the rear. The second struck gun carriage on left cheek, just in front
of left trunnion and went into small fragments in every direction. The
third struck the edge of the muzzle, and crushed it so that we could
get no more shells into the gun. It was ruined temporarily, and had to
be sent to the arsenal at Macon.

About this time, Gen. Hardee and staff rode up. He inquired: "What's
the matter here?" "Nothing," said Lumsden, "but those fellows opened on
us and I make it a point to give as good as they send." "Well, cease
firing its doing no good, and we must husband our ammunition." Old man
Lane had the front end of one foot cut off by a piece of shell. He was
bringing up an armfull of cartridges from the caissons under the hill
at the time, but did not throw down his load until he brought it to the
gun, loudly proclaiming, that he hoped these shells would pay them back
for his wound. But that was the end of his service in our army. He was
over conscript age, but came as a substitute for some one who could pay
for a man to take his place.

I believe that he was the only man struck that day in our company, but
in rear of the 3rd gun that had been put out of action, a bunch of
canteens, hanging on a forked post were all rendered useless by pieces
of shell or bullets coming through the embrasure. The Yankee three-inch
rifle was a dead shot at any distance under a mile. They could hit the
head of a flour barrel more often than miss, unless the gunner got
rattled. The shell consisted of three parts, a conical head with
smaller cylinderical base, a cap to fit, that base loosely and a ring
of lead that connected the head and base. When fired the cap at butt
was thrown forward on the cylinderical base of the cone, expanding the
lead ring into the grooves of the rifle, the cone exploding by
percussion cap on striking. It was the most accurate field piece of
that date. Our smooth bore 12 pounders were always at a disadvantage in
artillery duels, but with time fuses and at masses of men, or at a
battery in open field, 800 to 1,000 yards, they did good service, and
with canisters they could sweep the earth.

After Lovejoy's station, we were moved up to the city, and put into a
casemated fort for a short time in the outskirts of the city, whilst
evacuation was going on, and were among the last of the commands to
leave the doomed town, whence we retreated with a portion of the
infantry toward Macon, Ga. Burning stores of all kinds were located by
the soldiers, mail cars sacked, and letters and packages of all kinds
gone through at road side fires in search of money, the useless letters
feeding the fire. This was on the night of September 2, 1864. Rations
on the retreat got very short and for once our men were forced to live
off the country. When bivouac was made for the night above Macon, for
the success of our own particular mess, all scattered after "retreat"
roll call in different directions. About midnight they had all come in,
and pots, kettles, ovens, and hot coals were in demand. Henry Donoho
had shelled out about a peck of cornfield beans from the nearly ripe
pods in the fields.

Walter Guild turned up with a long stick across his shoulder, with two
large pumpkins stuck on each end. Ed King and Jim Maxwell each had a
sack of sweet potatoes, grabbled in a field a mile and a half away.

The Rosser boys had corn too hard for roasting, but all right to grate
on an old half canteen grater.

Rube, Aleck Dearing's servant had half a shoat and Jim Bobbett, my own
servant, had two ducks.

Some one owned a big brass kettle, that would hold about half a barrel,
which the wagons hauled, and it was soon on the fire, filled with the
sliced pumpkins, to be stewed down. Some did one thing, and some
another, and by an hour before day, that feast was ready, and several
more along the same lines in the camp. We ate our fill, filled
haversacks, distributed the balance to whoever wanted it and were ready
to move at daylight. I believe that it was the only meal I remember
during the war, where everything was the proceeds of plunder.

We had been pretty close to a famine for a day or two, but this was
surely a feast.

It was all contrary to military law, but soldiers were not going to sit
still and starve, when something to eat could be had out of the fields
for the taking, and the officers could not be expected to sit up nights
to come around and inspect our pots and kettles, and if they did, they
could prove nothing, and so, for the occasion and the recognizing
necessity, nothing was ever said about it. The men were on hand ready
and able to do duty, and the tangle of the crisis was soon straightened
out and our rations coming through the regular channels. From Macon, by
way of Griffin, where a few days were spent in camp and thence to West
Point on the Georgia-Alabama line, where preparations were made to cut
loose from the railroad, and traverse northeast Alabama with Hood's
army to strike for middle Tennessee by way of Decatur and Florence,
west of the mountains. This was now ----, so that we had been months
and days in reaching in a roundabout manner since the fall of Atlanta,
on Sept. 2. Hood's infantry and cavalry had been somewhere south, and
southwest of Atlanta. Sherman was fixing to destroy, and strike out
southeast across Georgia, and Hood was preparing to strike out for
middle Tennessee and Nashville.

With our guns and wagons, we joined the army wagon train, making its
way northwestward, during a very rainy spell of weather. Traveling
through the flat piney woods was awful. The white loblolly mud was
often axle deep in the road, and turning out in these flats did not
seem to better the matter much.

The writer had now been appointed a Sergeant, and been given a pie bald
pony to ride at the head of his 4th Detachment of gun caisson. One day
his pony got both feet on same side into a deep rut under the loblolly
and down flat broadside he went and the writer disappeared. When he
emerged he was greeted with the well known yell, "Come out of that, I
see your ears sticking out." When the mud dried, it flaked off and I
was not much worse off temporarily than the balance of the crowd and
they were welcome to the fun.

Finally, we reached the Tennessee valley, in Morgan County, and marched
westward. The sites of the old plantation homes were now marked only by
groups of chimneys, the plantations a dreary waste. Reaching vicinity
of Decatur about ---- we found it garrisoned by a Federal force with
entrenchments, but Hood's objective point for crossing the Tennessee
river was between Tuscumbia and Florence. Near Tuscumbia, our battery
was again in camp for a few days. As from West Point to Florence in a
direct line is about 200 miles by the route traveled by us 250 or 275
miles of continuous march. We were not sorry to get a chance to rest,
wash, clean and repair up. Here, in the garden spot of Alabama, prior
to the war, food was scarce. The beef issued to us could not produce a
bead of fat, on the top of the pot, when boiled. Bacon or salt pork,
when we got any was generally rancid. But we got here one unusual
luxury in the way of food, a fine young fat mule had its back broken by
the fall of a tree, cut down in camp. So it was killed and the boys
took possession and divided it out. It was very fat. The fat from its
"innards" was "tryed" out like oil and saved in bottles and cans for
"breadshortening" for which it answered well. The meat was very fine,
much better than any beef we had gotton for a long time. But the boys
made all sorts of fun over it. We had some left to carry along on the
march, and a soldier would pull out a hunk from his haversack, throw up
his head and let out a big mule bray, "a-h-h-h u-n-k, a-h-h-h u-n-k,
a-h-h-h u-n-k," bite off a mouth full and go to chewing.

The crossing of the Tennessee on the night of Nov. 20, 1864, over a
pontoon bridge at south Florence was to officers and men of Lumsden's
battery only one of many disagreeable experiences. No more than our
whole army had gotton used to experiencing in such campaigns in all
sorts of weather and conditions, its locality merely makes it stand out
in the memory, a little more prominently than other such experiences.
Notified in the afternoon to be ready in our turn to cross over, then
again to fall into the line on the South bank after dusk; moving on to
the bridge after dark, and occupying several hours in crossing, moving
a few paces in the bridge, then halting and standing shivering in a
drizzling rain, until again a few paces could be gained. Then at the
north bank, getting our teams up the steep banks through mud axle deep,
by doubling teams and all hands at the wheels and getting through the
night, hovering over roadside fires along streets of Florence and roads
beyond until daylight brought a possibility of finding a place to make
a temporary halt for feed and rest for man and beast.

On November 27th, reaching the vicinity of Columbia, where Schofield
was entrenched with an army of about the same size as Hood's, a
demonstration was made of an attack on his lines, but the main position
of our army crossed Duck river above Columbia and struck for Spring
Hill on the turn pike between Columbia and Franklin.

On 29th, the Battalion of Reserve Artillery was ordered to leave guns
and caissons, with horses and drivers, under charge of one Commissioned
officer south of Duck river. The captains, two Lieuts.,
Non-Commissioned officers and cannoneers were ordered to follow the
infantry brigades; the object being to be able to man any batteries
that might be captured from the enemy in this move against his rear.
Lumsden was ordered to report to Brig. Gen. Reynolds and to keep right
up with his brigade under all circumstances. It was nearly dark when we
found ourselves in a half mile of Spring Hill, and there, we remained
all night, without any attack being delivered on the enemy hurrying
northward along the pike, wagons, artillery and all other vehicles kept
on a rush with their infantry on east side of the pike to protect
against our attack.

Time was lost during the day in building rough bridges across creeks
waist deep to infantry, which had better have been waded, for the few
hours so lost, prevented a successful attack at Spring Hill which Hood
had planned to demolish Schofield.

Forrest was trying to delay their advance toward Franklin, and
sometimes succeeded in getting possession of pike for a short time,
capturing teamsters shooting down teams in their harness and setting
fire to their wagons.

But their rear passed Spring Hill before daylight the next morning,
with Hood's infantry pursuing their rearguard closely into Franklin,
where a strong line of entrenchments had been prepared around the edge
of the city from Harpeth river above the same below town, and a strong
line of rifle pits out in front of the regular trenches.

On the afternoon of Nov. 30, 1864, Hood attacked these entrenchments
about 4:00 p.m. Reynolds' brigade was on the right of the pike,
somewhat to the right of the historic genhouse. As this brigade started
in the charge on the first line of rifle pits, Lumsden's command was
close behind with no weapons but their bare hands. Gen. Reynolds
noticed it and riding up called out to Capt. Lumsden: "Captain, take
your men back behind the hill to our rear." And so it was done; though
as soon as our infantry reached the valley and the bullets ceased to
fly so thickly about the top of the hill, the whole company was soon at
the top of the ridge, watching the terrible struggle in our front over
the Federal entrenchments on the outskirts of Franklin.

Away in the night, the flashing rifles revealed the firing of two
armies with a bank of six feet of earth between them, until finally it
gradually ceased. Before daylight we got certain intelligence that the
enemy was gone through Corporal Tom Owen, gunner to 2nd piece, who with
another prospecting companion or two had been into the town and
returned with a bucket of molasses and some other eatables.

Here we were left by Gen. Reynolds' brigade, and where our horses, guns
and caissons came up, Lumsden's battery was again in its usual fighting
trim, and moved on to Nashville where it was on Dec. 4th, in the front
trenches on the left of the Grannary White Pike, in the yard of a fine
brick house, which the enemy had destroyed just outside of their
fortifications, known as the "Gales house". Our lines were so close to
those of the enemy across a narrow valley of cleared fields, that no
one could expose any portion of his body on either work, without
drawing the fire of his enemy opposite. Some of the boys found good
quarters inside of the old furnace, within a few steps of our guns,
those of us in the outside wishing there were a few more furnaces. Talk
about not dodging! Whenever one of us had to move about, he had to
dodge from one cover to another. But there was one comfort, our
infantry kept our enemies dodging also. About Dec. 10th, we were
relieved from this position by another battery, and ordered to the
extreme left of the army and put in position on a small hill, about 700
yards west of the Hillsboro pike, opposite the house of Robert
Castleman, who lived on the east side of said pike some three and a
half miles south of Nashville, and three quarters of a mile, southwest
from the extreme western end of Hood's line, on the Hillsboro pike.
Here, we were ordered to entrench.

    [The description of the duty to which Lumsden's Battery was
    assigned in the battle of Nashville on December 15th, 1864 was lost
    in some way and not printed in Lumsden's Battery History where it
    belongs near the top of Page 56 just after the sentence "Here we
    were ordered to entrench".

    The omission was not noticed until after the volumes had all been
    printed.

    These special pages must therefore be put in an insert and read in
    their proper place, after which again the history takes up the
    further retreat of the remnant out of Tennessee.]


  Major John Foster of the Engineers, with a detail of 100 men had
  already started on the work. Hood's orders were that it should be a
  regular fort enclosing the top of hill. As yet, it was simply a
  redoubt, facing a ridge some 800 yards away that ran nearly
  perpendicularly to the general direction of the army's line of battle
  at the extreme left end of the army. Between the ridge and the
  location of redoubt were cultivated fields, and had been some woods,
  through which Richland Creek meandered towards the north west. The
  woods our engineers had cut down, so as to give an uninterrupted view
  of the lands in our front, and gave a cover for skirmishers who might
  be driven back towards redoubt and also gave cover for an enemy line
  of skirmishers to approach to within 100 yards of redoubt under
  cover, when they had driven back the defending skirmishers.

  Major Foster's force had started the redoubt shortly after the
  remnant of Hood's Army (after Franklin) had aligned itself before
  Nashville and entrenched somewhere about December 1st to 3rd, it
  being perhaps a mile or more from extreme left of Hood's Army to the
  Cumberland River. Gen. Chalmers with Cavalry, and the remnant of
  Ector's Brigade of infantry as a support, guarding the gaps between
  left of Hood's entrenchments at Hillsboro pike, to Cumberland River.
  From the date of our arrival at fort location we had rain snow, and
  sleet, and the ground frozen hard, so that it was impossible to make
  any rapid progress on the redoubt laid off for 4 embrasures for our 4
  Napoleon guns. Stretched blankets and the tarpaulins from for our
  guns and ammunition were the only cover for officers or men. I well
  remember that, the day before the battle of the 15th, my servant Jim
  Bobbett brought me a change of clean under clothing, for which I had
  to scrape off the snow on a log at Richland Creek, strip and bathe in
  its icy waters to make a change.

  By the 15th (the day of the battle) we had manerals so long. At my
  gun we had lost private Horton and Corporal Gunner Ed. King. Hilen L.
  Rosser at another gun had part of his head shot away. That night as I
  was pouring some water for Lumsden to wash, he was picking something
  out of his beard, and said: "Maxwell, that is part of Rosser's
  brains", out of the 40 men that we had at guns, we had only 22 left,
  balance having been killed or captured. A Federal officer rode around
  Lieut. A. C. Hargrove and demanded his surrender, and cut down at his
  head with his sabre. Hargrove caught the blow on his arm, but it beat
  down his arm to his head enough to "hurt like thunder", as Hargrove
  expressed it.

  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 circumstances. 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 Shivers 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.

  Shivers 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 passed 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. Passing 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 Godsend. 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 washing 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 shirt
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 class 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 relationship 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! Marse
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, Marse 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 appetite, 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
class, 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 substitute was available. Usually sweet potatoes, okra or
sage. For sweetening either long sweetening (molasses) 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 authoress, 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 shirts, 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 passed 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 authoress 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 shirts 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
shore 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 constituted 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
shells 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. Dick 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.



LUMSDEN'S BATTERY, (LIGHT ARTILLERY)
C. S. A.

Organized Nov. 4, 1861

(6) Officers

1. Charles L. Lumsden                  Captain.
2. George W. Vaughn                    Sr. First Lieut.
3. Harvey H. Cribbs                    Jr. First Lieut.
4. Ebenezer H. Hargrove                Sr. Second Lieut.
5. Edward Tarrant                      Jr. Second Lieut.
6. Joseph Porter Sykes                 Cadet C. S. A.


(14) Non-Commissioned Officers

1. George Little                       Orderly Sergeant.
2. John Snow                           Quartermaster Sergeant.
3. John A. Caldwell                    Sergeant, First piece,
     later elected Lieut., and James R. Maxwell
     appointed in his place.
4. Wiley G. W. Hester                  Sergeant, Second Piece.
5. Sam Hairston                        Sergeant, Third Piece.
6. Horace Walpole Martin               Sergeant, Fourth Piece.
7. Andrew Coleman Hargrove             Sergeant, Fifth Piece.
8. James L. Miller                     Sergeant, Sixth Piece.


Corporals

1. J. Wick Brown                       First Corporal
2. James Cardwell                      Second Corporal
3. Alex T. Dearing                     Third Corporal
4. William Hester                      Fourth Corporal
5. Thomas Owen                         Fifth Corporal
6. Seth Shepherd                       Sixth Corporal


PRIVATES

 1. Appling, Wm. B.                  94. Kahnweiler, Lewis
 2. Atkins                           95. Kelly, Daniel
 3. Austin, Thomas                   96. Kelly, Louis
 4. Bates, William                   97. Kilgore
 5. Bartee, John P.                  98. King, Edward
 6. Barker, William                  99. Kuykendall
 7. Barrett, Gideon                 100. Lashley
 8. Barrett, Frank                  101. Leslie
 9. Beatty, William                 102. Lane
10. Baumeister, Joseph              103. Lanneau, K. Palmer
11. Blackstock, Belson              104. Little, John, Jr.
12. Booth, James                    105. Little, James
13. Booth, David                    106. Lloyd, George
14. Booth, Curtis                   107. Maddox, John
15. Braun, William                  108. Malone, William
16. Brady, Dennis                   109. Maner
17. Brooks, Wade                    110. Menning, John
18. Browne, Newborne H.             111. Maxwell, James R.
19. Bulger                          112. Maxwell, Richard
20. Burleson                        113. Matthews
21. Conner                          114. Maher, Dennis
22. Cooper, William                 115. Molette, John
23. Cosmer                          116. Moore, Dr.
24. Cox                             117. Morris, William
25. Chancellor, John S.             118. Milton
26. Chancellor, M. H.               119. Moss
27. Creel                           120. Moody, Joseph
28. Crocker                         121. Parish, James
29. Cummins, St. John               122. Mason, Isaac
30. Darden, Morgan, M.              123. Nix, Ambrose
31. Deason, Peter                   124. Nix, John
32. Deason, Washington              125. Parker, Foster
33. Dehart                          126. Pearce
34. Delano, Sirenus                 127. Peoples, John
35. Donoho, Charles M.              128. Peterson, H. C.
36. Donoho, Henry                   129. Pollard, J. W.
37. Drake, John                     130. Pool, Erwin P.
38. Emerson, James                  131. Post, Peter K.
39. Evans, E. P.                    132. Potts, Thomas W.
40. Evans, John                     133. Papin
41. Etheridge, Henry                134. Ray, George
42. Faucett, Thomas                 135. Raley
43. Fiquet, Charles J.              136. Renfro
44. Fleming, William                137. Rosser, R. M.
45. Foster, Robert S.               138. Rosser, L. H.
46. Foster, Robert Ware             139. Rosser, H. L.
47. Franks                          140. Ryland, Joseph H.
48. Franks                          141. Sadler
49. Franks                          142. Sample, Joseph
50. Franks                          143. Sartain
51. Franks                          144. Savage, John
52. Fulghem                         145. Scrivner, Sr., R.
53. Gaddy, R. M.                    146. Scrivner, Jr., R.
54. Garner, Abraham                 147. Scrivner, James
55. Garner, John                    148. Sexton, Benjamen F.
56. Garner, Thomas                  149. Sexton, Horace H.
57. Goodwin, James                  150. Shuttlesworth, R. F.
58. Goodwin, Wyche                  151. Shultz, David
59. Goodwin                         152. Shultz, Thomas J.
60. Graham                          153. Searcy, James T.
61. Grayson, Preston                154. Sims, J. Marion
62. Guild, Walter                   155. Staley, Charles
63. Gurley, Jacob                   156. Shivers, J. Mc.
64. Hall, Joshua                    157. Sutton, Jack
65. Hall, John                      158. Sykes, John
66. Hall, Zach                      159. Smith, George W.
67. Hamner, John                    160. Tackett, William
68. Haney, John W.                  161. Tarrant, John F.
69. Hargrove, Arthur                162. Tarrant, William
70. Hargrove, Daniel                163. Thompson, A. J.
71. Hargrove, Rufus                 164. Thompson, M. D.
72. Hargrove, Tenetus               165. Thornton, Arthur
73. Hester, William C.              166. Thrower, J. T.
74. Hester, Thomas J.               167. Tingle
75. Higbee, V.                      168. Toole, George
76. Highsaw, Nathaniel              169. Townsend
77. Hildebrand                      170. Trehorn
78. Hill, Dr.                       171. Vance, John
79. Hogan, James                    172. Vandiver, William
80. Holcomb, Thomas                 173. Walker, John
81. Horton, John                    174. Walker, Robert G.
82. Howard, Daniel                  175. Waite
83. Howard, Charles B.              176. Watkins
84. Hunter, Thomas                  177. Watkins, John
85. Hocutt                          178. Weems, John
86. Hyche, Perry                    179. Wilborn, Thomas J.
87. Hyche, John                     180. Wilds
88. Hughes, Anthony                 181. Winborn, D.
89. Jenkins, William                182. Williams
90. Johnson, William H.             183. White
91. Jones, David                    184. Winn, John
92. Jones, James T.                 185. Woodruff, William
93. Jones, Lawrence                 186. Wooley, B. F.


Surgeons: Marlowe, Nicholas, Perkins, McMichall and Jarratt.


SUMMARY

Officers                                  6
Surgeons                                  3
Officers, Non-commissioned               14
Privates                                186
Names not recalled                       16
                                        ___
Total                                   225





*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "A History of Lumsden's Battery, C.S.A." ***

Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials.
Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians.
This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties,
including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing
Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you
use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort
to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a
large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of
public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Keep it legal -  Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for
ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.



Home