The Lone Star Defenders 22

The Lone Star Defenders 22

As I passed through Macon I was offered five hundred dollars for my

mule, but I had determined to carry it back and give it to Mr. Ayres

in place of Old Arkansaw. I rode up to Mr. Ayres’ house about three

o’clock in the afternoon, presented him with the mule, and remained

there until morning. While there Mrs. Ayres gave me enough of the

prettiest gray jeans I ever saw, spun and woven by her own hands, to

make a suit of clothes. I sent to Mobile and paid eighty-five dollars

for trimming, such as buttons, gold lace, etc., and had a tailor make

me a uniform of which I justly felt proud.

 

In September, perhaps it was, General Whitfield, on account of failing

health, was transferred to the trans-Mississippi department, and the

Rev. R. W. Thompson, the Legion’s brave chaplain, also left us and

recrossed the Mississippi. The brigade was commanded alternately by

Colonel H. P. Mabry, of the Third Texas, and Colonel D. W. Jones, of

the Ninth, until Colonel L. S. Ross, of the Sixth Texas, was appointed

brigadier-general and took permanent command of us, and the brigade was

ever after known as Ross’ Brigade. Colonel Mabry was given command of a

Mississippi brigade and sent down on the river below Vicksburg.

 

Early in December we attempted to capture a foraging party that came

out from Vicksburg. Starting early in the night, Colonel Jones was sent

with the Ninth Texas around to intercept them by coming into the road

they were on near the outside breastworks. The command moved slowly

until morning, when coming near the enemy we gave chase, galloping ten

miles close at their heels. When they passed the point Colonel Jones

was trying to reach he was in sight. We ran them through the outer

breastworks and heard their drums beat the long roll. When we turned

about to retire two of our men, Milligan and Roberts, fell back and

entered the enemy’s breastworks and surrendered.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XII

 

BATTLE AT YAZOO CITY

 

Midwinter—Through the Swamps—Gunboat Patrols—Crossing the

Mississippi—Through the Ice—Ferrying Guns—Hardships—Engagement

at Yazoo City—Harrying Sherman—Under Suspicion—A

Practical Joke—Battle at Yazoo City—Casualties—A Social

Call—Eastwood—Drowning Accident—A Military Survey.

 

 

THE early days of January, 1864, found us floundering through the

swamps in an effort to deliver to the trans-Mississippi department

a lot of small arms, rifles, and bayonets. General Stephen D. Lee,

commander of the cavalry in our department, wrote General Ross that

there had been two or three unsuccessful efforts to put two thousand

stands of arms across the Mississippi, and asking whether he thought

his command could put them over. General Ross replied, “We will try.”

So the brigade started with several wagons loaded with the arms and a

battery of four pieces. This January proved to be the coldest month of

the war, and for downright acute suffering from exposure and privation

probably no month of our campaigning equalled this.

 

We crossed Yazoo River at Murdock’s ferry, and pretty soon were in

Sunflower Swamp, about eight miles across. A slow rain was falling

and the weather very threatening. With all the teams we had and all

the oxen that could be procured in the vicinity, an all-day’s job,

we reached Sunflower with one lone piece of artillery, every other

wheeled vehicle being hopelessly bogged down in the swamp from two

to five miles in our rear. While the command was crossing the river

a blizzard swooped down upon us. By the time we reached a camp two

miles beyond, icicles were hanging from our horses, and everything we

possessed that was damp was freezing. The cold continued to increase,

next morning everything was frozen stiff, and it would have been

possible to skate on the ponds near the camps. In this state of affairs

General Ross said to us: “What shall we do, give up the expedition or

take these guns on our horses and carry them through?” The boys said:

“Carry them through.” We mounted and rode back to the river, left the

horses on the bank and crossed in a ferryboat, where ensued a grand

race for the wagons across the rough, frozen ground and ice, for on

a fellow’s speed depended the distance he would have to go for the

load of guns he was to carry back to the horses. Warren Higginbothom,

an athletic messmate of mine, passed me, and I asked him to save me

some guns at the first wagon, which he did, and I returned to camp

with other fortunate ones; but some of them were late in the night

returning. So we remained in the same camp for another night. Many of

the men were thinly clad and poorly shod for such a trip in the bitter

cold weather, I myself being clad in a thin homespun gray jean jacket,

without an overcoat; and having hung my gloves before the fire to dry

and gotten them burned to a crisp, I was barehanded as well.

 

The next morning every man, including General Ross himself, took his

quota of the guns, usually four apiece, and started to Gaines’ ferry,

on the Mississippi, about fifty miles distant. Passing through Bogue

Folio Swamp about seven miles, crossing the stream of that name and

passing through the Deer Creek country, the garden spot of Mississippi,

we came to within about three miles of the river and camped in a dry

cypress swamp. As the river was closely patrolled by gunboats our aim

was to cross the guns over at night. As no craft that a man could cross

the river in was allowed to remain in the river, we found a small

flatboat and dragged it with oxen over the frozen ground to the river,

walking with loads of guns to meet it. The river here was running

south and the cold north wind was coming down stream in almost a gale.

The water was low and we approached it on a wide sandbar. Having slid

the boat into the water, John B. Long, Nathan Gregg, of Company A, Si

James, the Choctaw, and one other of the command volunteered to row

it over. After it was well loaded with guns the boat was pushed off,

but the strong wind drifted them down the river some distance, and,

returning, they drifted down still farther, so that it was nine o’clock

next morning when they returned to camp, with their clothes from their

waists down covered with a sheet of ice so thick that they could not

sit down. The first gunboat that passed destroyed the little flat. We

then built another small boat, but before we could get it ready for use

all the eddy portion of the river near the bank was frozen over and the

current a mass of floating ice, so that it was impossible to cross in

such a craft at night. Procuring two skiffs in addition to the boat, we

crossed the remainder of the guns over in daylight, pushing through

the floating ice with poles, the guns being delivered to Colonel

Harrison’s command on the west bank of the river. For the days and

nights we were engaged in crossing these guns we lived on fresh pork

found in the woods, eating this without salt, and a little corn parched

in the ashes of our fires. The weather continued to grow colder, until

the ice was four inches thick on the ponds. The guns being disposed of,

the piece of artillery was run down to the bank of the river, when soon

a small transport came steaming up the river. It was given one or two

shots, when it blew a signal of distress and steamed to the opposite

shore and landed, and was soon towed off by a large boat going up the

river. With some of our men barefooted and many of them more or less

frost-bitten we returned to Deer Creek, where we could get rations

and forage. As for forage there were thousands of acres of fine corn

ungathered, and we only had to go into the fields and gather what we

wanted. The Federals had carried off the able-bodied negroes, and the

corn was still in the fields, and along the creek and through the farms

there were thousands and thousands of wild ducks. I am sure I saw more

ducks at one glance than I had seen all my life before. We retraced our

steps through the swamps and the canebrakes and recrossed the Yazoo

River in time to meet a fleet of twelve transports, loaded with white

and black troops, escorted by two gunboats, ascending that river,

evidently making for Yazoo City.

 

[Illustration: CAPTAIN H. L. TAYLOR

 

Commander Ross’ Brigade Scouts]

 

The Third Texas was sent out to meet a detachment of the enemy moving

up the Mechanicsburg and Yazoo City road, and drove them back towards

Vicksburg, the rest of the brigade, in the meantime, fighting the river

force at Satartia and Liverpool. The Third rejoined the brigade at

Liverpool, but being unable to prevent the passage of the enemy, we

moved rapidly up the river and beat them to Yazoo City. Placing our

artillery in some earthworks thrown up by Confederates in the early

part of the war, we formed a line of riflemen down at the water’s edge.

The fleet soon came steaming up the river, and when the front gunboat

came opposite to us the battery began playing upon it, while the rifles

kept their portholes closed so that they could not reply. It was not

long before they abandoned the effort to land, dropped back and were

soon out of sight down the river. Later in the day, from the smoke, we

could see that they were steaming up Sunflower River, west of us.

 

When the people of Yazoo City saw that we had saved their town from

occupation by negro troops, their gratitude knew no bounds, and this

gratitude was shown practically by as great a hospitality as was ever

extended by any people to a command of Confederate soldiers. In the

evening a squadron, including Company C, was left on picket below the

city for the night, at the point occupied during the day, while the

command moved out on the Benton road to camp. To the pickets during the

evening the citizens sent out cooked provisions of the nicest and most

substantial character, sufficient to have lasted them for a week.

 

The next morning the brigade returned and as everything remained

quiet, with no prospect of an early return of the enemy’s fleet, I

rode uptown to take a view of the city. Numbers of others had done the

same, and as the hour of noon approached we began to get invitations

to dinner. Meeting a little white boy, he would accost you thus: “Mr.

Soldier, Mamma says come and eat dinner with her.” Next a little negro

boy would run up and say: “Mr. Soldier, Mistis say come and eat dinner

with her.” And this manner of invitation was met on every corner, and

between the corners. I finally accepted an invitation to dine with the

family of Congressman Barksdale.

 

We were not allowed to enjoy the hospitality of this grateful city

long on this visit, as General Sherman, who had planned a march to

the sea, moved eastwardly out from Vicksburg, with a formidable force

of infantry and artillery, and we were ordered to follow him. This

we did, and kept his infantry closed up and his men from straggling.

His cavalry, moving out from Memphis, was to form a junction with

his main force at Meridian. Reaching that place, he halted, and we

camped in the pine wood three or four miles north of the town. General

Forrest was between us and the enemy’s cavalry, and our object was to

prevent a junction, thus defeating the purpose of the expedition, and

if Forrest was unable to drive the cavalry back we were to go to his

assistance—that is, Jackson’s division was to do this.

 

One very cold, cloudy evening near sundown I was ordered to report to

General Ross, mounted. When I reached headquarters I received verbal

orders to proceed to Macon with the least possible delay, take charge

of some couriers already there, use the telegraph, ascertain General

Forrest’s movements, and report from time to time by courier. The

distance to Macon was, say, forty-five or fifty miles, and the way

led mainly through forests, with a few houses on the road. Clad in my

gray jean jacket, without overcoat or gloves, but well mounted and

armed, I started, alone. Soon after dark a light snow began to fall

and continued all night. About midnight I reached DeKalb, the county

seat of Kemper County, where I spent half an hour in an effort to rouse

somebody who could put me on the road to Macon. At daylight I was

several miles from my destination. Stopping at a house for breakfast

I lay down before the fire and slept while it was being prepared, and after breakfast finished my journey.