The Lone Star Defenders 20

The Lone Star Defenders 20

In a few days after this very sad occurrence General Jackson’s division

was ordered to Mississippi by rapid marches, and about the middle of

May we reluctantly bade adieu to this beautiful, picturesque middle

Tennessee.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XI

 

THE SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG

 

Moving Southward—I Lose My Horse—Meet Old Huntsville Friends—A New

Horse—In Mississippi—“Sneeze Weed”—Messenger’s Ferry—Surrender of

Vicksburg—Army Retires—Fighting at Jackson—After Sherman’s Men—A

Sick Horse—Black Prince—“Tax in Kind”—Ross’ Brigade—Two Desertions.

 

 

I NOW disbanded my important command on Rutherford Creek, and telling

my men that every fellow must take care of himself, I joined the

movement towards Mississippi. Leaving in the afternoon, we camped

on the north bank of Duck River opposite Columbia. That night while

walking into a deep gully I sprained an ankle very badly. Next morning

my foot and ankle were so swollen I could not wear my boot, so I

exchanged it for an old rusty brogan shoe found in an ambulance, and

shipped all my luggage in the ambulance. I made my way to the pasture

eight miles below, mounted my horse and joined the command.

 

Before reaching camp that night my horse was taken with a peculiar

lameness in one of his hind legs. Next morning soon after starting

he became lame again, and grew rapidly worse, so much so that I fell

behind, being unable to keep up. Soon I had to dismount and lead him,

driving him and urging him along in every possible way, spending the

day in that manner, and walking most of the time. In the afternoon

I saw that contingent called stragglers. One man rode up and said to

me, “Hello, Barron! you are gone up for a horse. You’ll have to have

another. Have you got any money?” “Not much,” I replied. Pulling out a

one hundred dollar bill, he said: “Here, take this; it will do you some

good.” During the afternoon another, and after a while still another

passed me, saying and doing precisely the same thing. Crossing Elk

River just before dark, I stopped to spend the night at the first house

on the road. The next morning my horse was dead. I had expected to

trade him, but now I was completely afoot, encumbered with my rigging,

fifteen miles behind the command, which had gone on the Athens, Ala.,

road.

 

After visiting the lot I went back to breakfast, feeling that I was a

good many miles from home, but not particularly daunted. I had all the

time believed that a soldier who volunteered in the Confederate army

in good faith and was honestly doing his duty would come out of all

kinds of difficulties in good shape. After breakfast I watched the road

until noon. At last a man of our brigade came along leading a horse,

and I inquired to whom he belonged. “One of the boys that was sent to

the hospital.” I then explained to him my situation. “All right,” said

he, “you take this pony, find you a horse, and leave the pony with

the wagon train when you come to it.” “The pony” was a shabby little

long-haired mustang with one hip bone knocked down, but I was mounted

for the time.

 

It was now Saturday afternoon. I was only thirty miles from Huntsville

and might find a horse there, so it occurred to me, but I had no

desire to go there at this time. In the condition circumstances had

placed me, I only wished to procure a horse suitable for my necessities

and follow my command. I mounted the mustang and took the Huntsville

road, inquiring for horses along the way. I stayed all night at Madison

Cross roads, and was not recognized by the man at whose house I spent

the night, although I had been acquainted with him for several years. I

went out next morning, Sunday as it was, and examined and priced one or

two horses in the neighborhood, but found I could not pay for one even

if I had fancied him, which I did not. So I continued my course towards

Huntsville, jogging along very slowly on my borrowed horse, as the

weather was quite warm. When within two or three miles of town I left

the Pulaski road and turned in through some byways to the residence of

Mr. Tate Lowry, a friend of mine who lived near the Meridianville pike,

a mile or two out of town. I rode up to his place about noon, just as

he had returned from church. He extended me a very cordial welcome to

his house, which was only occupied by himself, his good old mother,

and little boy. We soon had a good dinner. Out in the office I enjoyed

a short sleep, a bath, and began dressing myself, Mr. Lowry coming in

and placing his entire wardrobe at my service. I was soon inside of a

nice white shirt and had a pair of brand new low-quartered calfskin

shoes on my feet. He then brought me a black broadcloth frock coat, but

there I drew the line. Having a neat gray flannel overshirt, I donned

that, buckled on my belt and felt somewhat genteel. As there were to

be religious services at the Cumberland church in the afternoon, we

agreed to go into town. We walked in, however, as I had no disposition

to show the mustang to my friends in town, and when we arrived at the

church we found the congregation assembled and services in progress. I

went quietly in and seated myself well back in the church, and when the

services ended everybody, male and female, came up to shake hands, all

glad to see me, among them my home folks, Mrs. Powers (“Aunt Tullie”),

and Miss Aggie Scott, her niece. I accompanied them home, and met Mr.

W. H. Powers, with whom I had lived and worked for several years,

and who was my best friend. I found it a delightful experience to be

here after an absence of more than three and half years. Of course I

explained to them why I was in Huntsville and how I became lame. On

Monday morning Mr. Powers called me in the parlor alone, and said to

me, “Do you need any money?” “That depends,” I said, “on the amount a

horse is going to cost me.” “Well,” he said, “if you need any, let me

know, and at any time that you need any money, and can communicate with

me, you can get all the Confederate money you need.” During the day our

L. H. Reed came in from the command, bringing me a leave of absence to

answer my purpose while away from the command.

 

Here I met my friend (Rev. Lieutenant-Colonel W. D. Chadick), who said

to me upon learning my purpose in this neighborhood: “I have a good

horse I bought very cheap, to give my old horse time to recover from a

wound. He is about well now, and as I cannot keep two horses you can

have him for what he cost me.” “How much was that?” “Three hundred

dollars.” “All right,” said I, “the three one hundred dollar bills

are yours, and the horse is mine.” This animal was a splendid sorrel,

rather above medium size, about seven years old, sound as a dollar, and

a horse of a good gaits. When I had gone forty miles from Huntsville

one thousand dollars of the same currency would not have bought him. On

Tuesday I had him well shod, mounting him the next morning, and while

I was sorely tempted to remain longer, I started for Mississippi. I

really had a very bad ankle, and could have called on an army surgeon

and procured an extension of my leave and spent a few days more in this

delightful way, but hoping to be well enough to perform the duties that

came to my lot by the time I reached the command, I pulled myself away.

 

I went out and got the pony, left the borrowed articles of clothing,

and crossing Tennessee River at Brown’s Ferry, I laid in corn enough

before I left the valley to carry me across the mountains where

forage was scarce. I strapped it on the pony and made good time to

Columbus, Miss. Here I was detained several hours by Captain Rice, the

post commander, much against my will. He claimed that he was ordered

by General Jackson, in case he found an officer in the rear of the

command, to detain him until he gathered up a lot of stragglers, who

were to be placed in charge of the officer, to be brought up to the

command. After worrying me several hours, he turned me over a squad of

men, and I started out with them. As soon as I crossed the Tombigbee

River I turned them all loose, and told them I hoped they would go to

their commands; as for me, I was going to mine, and I was not going to

allow a squad of men to detain me for an instant.

 

I passed through Canton about dark one evening, and learning what road

the command was probably on, having left my pony as per instructions,

I rode into our camp just at midnight. The next morning we moved to

Mechanicsburg, loaded, capped, and formed fours, expecting to meet

the enemy, which, however, did not prove to be the case. I therefore

was able to be at my post by the time the first prospect of a fight

occurred.

 

On my way down one day, I passed where the command had camped on a

small creek, and noticing several dead mules I inquired into the cause,

and was told they were killed from eating “Sneeze weed,” a poisonous

plant that grows in middle and southern Mississippi. I learned to

identify it, and as we had several horses killed by it afterwards, I

was very careful when we camped, to pull up every sprig of it within

reach of my horse.

 

On the long march from Spring Hill, Tenn., to Canton, Miss., Company C

had the misfortune to lose four men—Dunn, Putnum, and Scott deserted,

and McCain was mysteriously missing, and never heard of by us again.

 

* * * * *

 

General U. S. Grant had swung round with a large army through Jackson,

Miss., fought a battle with General Pemberton at Raymond and another at

Baker’s Creek, Champion Hill, where General Pemberton was driven back,

having General Loring’s division and twenty pieces of his artillery

cut off. Pemberton was compelled to fall back across Big Black River

at Edward’s Depot into Vicksburg with the remainder of his army, and

General Grant had thrown his army completely around Vicksburg on the

land side, and that city was besieged. We were sent down here to hover

around the besieging army, to see that they “‘have deyselves, and keep

off our grass.” The large gunboats in the river, above and below, with

their heavy ordnance were bombarding the city. These huge guns could

be heard for many miles away, from early morning until night. When I

first heard them I inquired the distance to Vicksburg, and was told it

was a hundred miles. During the siege we had active service, driving

in foraging parties, picketing, scouting, and occasionally skirmishing

with the enemy.

 

About the first of July we drove the enemy’s pickets from Messenger’s

Ferry, on Big Black River, and held that crossing until the 5th.

Vicksburg was surrendered on the 4th, and on the evening of the 5th

our pickets were driven from the ferry by a large force under General

Sherman, who began crossing the river and moving east. General Joseph

E. Johnston was in command of our army outside of Vicksburg, and at the

time the city was surrendered he was down on Big Black, with his forces

and a train loaded with pontoons—everything indicating his intention

to attempt a cut through the enemy’s line to relieve General Pemberton.

As soon as the surrender occurred General Johnston began falling back

towards Jackson, and we fought the advancing enemy several days while

he was making this retrogressive movement. We fought them daily, from

early in the morning until late in the afternoon, holding them in

check, though some days they advanced several miles and others only

two or three, owing to the nature of the ground and the more or less

favorable position afforded us. This detention gave General Johnston

time to move his trains and infantry back at leisure and to get his

army in position in front of Jackson. Finally falling back to Jackson,

we passed through our infantry lines in front of the city and took our

position on the extreme right wing of our army, beyond the northern

suburbs of the city. Jackson, it may be well to state, is located on

the west bank of Pearl River. General Sherman’s right wing rested on

Pearl River south of the city, and his lines extended in a semicircle

around the west of the city. Here we fought more or less for about

a week, with some pretty severe engagements, directly in front of

the city. In passing through the northern portion of the city to the

position assigned to us we passed the State Lunatic Asylum. After we

formed a line and everything was quiet, there being no enemy in our

front, Joe Guthery, of Company B, sauntered out and reconnoitered a

little and upon his return he approached Captain Jesse Wynne and said:

“Captain, you ought to see General Johnston’s fortifications down by

the asylum. He’s got a great big swiege gun planted there that demands the whole country around.”