The Lone Star Defenders 27

The Lone Star Defenders 27

As things grew more quiet the awful fear seized me that my ruse would

be discovered and I be abused for my deception, and driven up and

carried to prison. This fear haunted me until the last. Now, to add

to the discomfort of my situation, it began to rain, and never in my

life had I felt such a rain. When in my fall I struck the ground my

hat had dropped off, and this terrible rain beat down in my face until

the flesh was sore. But to move an arm or leg, or to turn my face over

for protection was to give my case completely away, and involved,

as I felt, the humiliation of a prison life; than which nothing in

the bounds of probability in my life as a Confederate soldier was so

horrible, in which there was but one grain of consolation, and that was

that I would see my brother and other friends who had been on Johnson’s

Island for some months.

 

The last danger encountered was when some dismounted men came near

driving some pack mules over me. Finally everything became so quiet

that I ventured to raise my head, very slowly and cautiously at first,

and as not a man could be seen I finally rose to my feet. Walking up to

a wounded Pennsylvania cavalryman I held a short conversation with him.

Surveying the now deserted field, so lately the scene of such activity,

and supposing as I did that Ross’ brigade as an organization was broken

up and destroyed, I was much distressed. I was left alone and afoot,

and never expected to see my horse or mule any more, which in fact I

never did, as Kilpatrick’s cavalry, after charging through the field,

had turned into the road and stampeded our horses.

 

I now started out over the field in the hope of picking up enough

plunder to fit myself for service in some portion of the army. In

this I succeeded beyond my expectation, as I found a pretty good,

completely rigged horse, only slightly wounded, and a pack-mule with

pack intact, and I soon loaded the mule well with saddles, bridles,

halters, blankets, and oil cloths. Among other things I picked up a

Sharp’s carbine, which I recognized as belonging to a messmate. While I

was casting about in my mind as to what command I would join, I heard

the brigade bugle sounding the assembly! Sweeter music never was heard

by me. Mounting my newly-acquired horse and leading my pack-mule, I

proceeded in the direction from which the bugle notes came, and on

the highest elevation in the field, on the opposite side of the lane,

I found General Ross and the bugler. I told my experience, and heard

our gallant brigadier’s laughable story of his escape. I sat on my

new horse and looked over the field as the bugle continued to sound

the assembly occasionally, and was rejoiced to see so many of our men

straggling in from different directions, coming apparently out of the

ground, some of them bringing up prisoners, one of whom was so drunk

that he didn’t know he was a prisoner until the next morning.

 

Near night we went into camp with the remnant collected, and the men

continued coming in during the night and during all the next day. To

say that we were crestfallen and heartily ashamed of being run over

is to put it mildly; but we were not so badly damaged, after all. The

horse-holders, when the horses stampeded, had turned as many as they

could out of the road and saved them. But as for me, I had suffered

almost a total loss, including the fine sword that John B. Long had

presented me at Thompson’s Station, and which I had tied on my saddle.

My faithful Jake came in next morning, and although he could not save

my horse, he had saved himself, his little McCook mule and some of my

soldier clothes. My pack-mule and surplus rigging I now distributed

among those who seemed to need them most.

 

Including officers, we had eighty-four or eighty-five men captured, and

only sixteen or eighteen of these were carried to Northern prisons.

Among them were seven officers, including my friend Captain Noble, who

was carried to Johnson’s Island, and messed with my brother until the

close of the war. Captain Noble had an eye for resemblances. When he

first saw my brother he walked up to him and said, “I never saw you

before, but I will bet your name is Barron, and I know your brother

well.” The other prisoners who escaped that night and returned to us

next day included my friend Lieutenant Soap, who brought in a prisoner,

and Luther Grimes, owner of the Sharp’s carbine, already mentioned, who

had an ugly saber wound in the head. I remember only two men of the

Third Texas who were killed during the day—William Kellum of Company

C, near Lee’s Mill; and John Hendricks, of Company B, in the charge on

the railworks. These two men had managed to keep on details from one

to two years, being brought to the front under orders to cut down all

details to increase the fighting strength, and they were both killed on

the field the first day they were under the enemy’s fire.

 

Among the wounded was Captain S. S. Johnson, of Company K, Third Texas,

gunshot wound, while a number of the men were pretty badly hacked with

sabers. Next day General Ross went up to General Hood’s headquarters

and said to him: “General, I got my brigade run over yesterday.”

General Hood replied, “General Ross, you have lost nothing by that,

sir. If others who should have been there had been near enough to the

enemy to be run over, your men would not have been run over.” This

greatly relieved our feelings, and the matter became only an incident

of the campaign, and on the 22d day of August Ross’ brigade was back in

its position ready for duty.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XV

 

UNION SOLDIER’S ACCOUNT OF KILPATRICK’S RAID

 

Kilpatrick’s Raid—Ordered to the Front—Enemy’s Artillery

Silenced—We Destroy the Railroad—Hot Work at the Railroad—Plan of

Our Formation—Stampeding the Horses—The Enemy Charges—Sleeping on

Horseback—Swimming the River—Camped at Last.

 

 

AFTER the war ended I made a friend of Robert M. Wilson of Illinois,

who served in the Fourth United States Cavalry, and he kindly wrote out

and sent me his account of this raid, and by way of parenthesis I here

insert it, as it may be of interest.

 

* * * * *

 

“The following is an account of the Kilpatrick raid, made in

August, 1864, written partly from memory and partly from a letter

written August 28, 1864, by Captain Robert Burns, acting assistant

adjutant-general of the First Brigade, Second Cavalry Division, I

acting as orderly for him part of the time on the raid. I was detailed

at brigade headquarters as a scout during the Atlanta campaign and

until General Wilson took our regiment as his escort. On the 17th of

August, 1864, at one o’clock, A. M., ours and Colonel Long’s Brigade

(the First and Second), of Second Cavalry Division, all under the

command of Colonel Minty, left our camp on Peach Tree Creek, on the

left of our army northeast of Atlanta, at seven o’clock next morning;

reported to General Kilpatrick at Sand Town on the right of our army,

having during the night passed from one end or flank of our army to

the other. We remained at Sand Town until sundown of the 18th, when we

started out to cut the enemy’s communications south of Atlanta. Two

other expeditions, Stoneman’s and McCook’s, well equipped, before this

had been ruined in attempting the same thing. We, however, imagined

we were made of sterner stuff, and started off in good spirits. The

command consisted of Third Cavalry Division (Kilpatrick’s), under

Colonel Murray, about 2700 men, and two brigades of our division (the

Second), under command of Colonel Minty, about 2700 men also—the whole

commanded by Kilpatrick (or Kill Cavalry, as we always called him).

 

“Away we went, Third Division in advance. The night was a beautiful

moonlight one, and we would have enjoyed it more if we had not been up

all the night preceding. We did not go more than three miles before we

ran into the enemy’s pickets, when we had to go more slowly, driving

them before us, dismounting to feel the woods on both sides, etc., etc.

Consequently it was morning when we reached the Atlanta & West Point

Railroad near Fairburn. At Red Oak we had torn up about half a mile of

the track when the rear battalion of Seventh Pennsylvania Cavalry was

suddenly attacked by a force of dismounted men and artillery. Just back

of where our column was struck were the ambulances, the darkies leading

officers’ horses, pack-mules, etc., etc. Several shells dropped among

them, and they thought the kingdom had come, sure. The Fourth United

States Cavalry, being in rear of the ambulances, soon drove the enemy

away. All this time the head of the column kept moving on, as time was

precious and we could not stop for slight scrimmages.

 

“General Kilpatrick, not being satisfied with the progress made by his

advance, ordered our brigades to take the front and Murray the rear.

(We had learned before starting that it was expected we, our division,

would do all the fighting.) Long’s brigade, in advance, had not gone

more than half a mile when he found a strong force of the enemy in his

front. He had to dismount his men to drive the enemy from the rail

barricades they had made, but he would find them in the same position

half a mile farther on. Long kept his men dismounted, having number

four lead the horses. I was close up with the advance with Colonel

Minty. We drove the enemy steadily but slowly back, until we came to

the valley through which Flint River runs, when they were reinforced

by Ferguson’s brigade of cavalry (we had been fighting Ross’ brigade

thus far), and opened on us sharply with artillery when we commenced

descending the hill, the shells and bullets rattling lively around us.

Two guns of our battery—we had with us four guns of Chicago Board of

Trade which belonged to our division, and Murray had with him four guns

of the Eleventh Wisconsin Battery—were soon brought up and succeeded

in silencing the enemy’s artillery, the first striking an artilleryman

and blowing him to pieces. Our division were then all dismounted and

moved forward at the double-quick under fire of our eight guns, and

drove the enemy clear through Jonesboro, crossing the bridge on the

stringer. Our brigade (First) had the advance, being nearly all

deployed as skirmishers. We then seized the railroad for which we had

started, and we commenced to smash things generally. The track was torn

up for about two miles, the depot and public buildings burned, and

destruction was let loose. While this was going on the enemy returned

to the attack, and our division was sent to meet them, the Third

Division turning the rails. The enemy were driven southward and we were

pushed that way, to shove them farther back. Before was darkness and

death, behind the burning buildings and smoking ruins, and now it also

began to thunder, lightning, and pour down rain in torrents. All this

time General Kilpatrick had one of his bands behind us playing ‘Yankee

Doodle’ and other patriotic airs. It appeared as if defeat was coming,

for we could hear the whistle of the cars in front of us and knew that

the enemy were being reinforced from below. We then determined to flank

them, so about midnight our brigade, followed by the Third Division,

moved in a southeasterly direction about seven miles, Long’s brigade

being left to cover the rear.

 

“When seven miles out we stopped to feed, close to 6 A. M., about a

mile from Murray’s Division, but were little protected, as both hills

were cleared and the valley had but few trees in it. Our brigade was

ordered to mount and move forward when Colonel Long’s brigade was

attacked by the cavalry that followed us from Jonesboro. The enemy’s

forces consisted of the brigades of Ross, Ferguson, and Armstrong,

about 4500 men. Our brigade moved on and turned sharply to the right,

in a southwesterly direction, to strike the railroad again about eight

miles below Jonesboro. I stayed on the hill with Captain Burns, for a

short time, to witness the skirmishing between Long and the enemy. From

where we were all our maneuvers could be distinctly seen, as also the

enemy, who would advance upon our men, only to be driven back. It was

a beautiful sight. ‘By Heaven, it was a noble sight to see—by one who

had no friend or brother there.’

 

“Captain Burns, myself following, now galloped off to overtake our

brigade, which we soon did. Colonel Long had orders to follow as

quickly as possible, Colonel Murray to come after. We (our brigade)

pushed for Lovejoy Station. When within a mile and a half of the

railroad we halted for the rest of the command to join us. About a mile

from the railroad the road forks, the two prongs striking the railroad

about a half a mile apart. A few hundred feet in front of and parallel

to the railroad another road ran. The Fourth Michigan was sent by the

right-hand road to the railroad, which it reached without any trouble;

the rest of the brigade took the left-hand prong of the road, having

for the last mile or two been driving off about a dozen cavalrymen. As

we neared the railroad the firing became hotter and hotter. The Seventh

Pennsylvania Cavalry was dismounted and sent forward to the woods—one

battalion, four companies, of it had been advance guard. Hotter grew

the firing, and the horses of the advance who had dismounted came

hurrying back. The Fourth United States (Regulars) were then dismounted

and sent in. Captain Burns was sent back to hurry up two of Long’s

regiments, but before this could be done the Seventh Pennsylvania

and Fourth Regulars were driven from the woods in some confusion. We

had run on a brigade of infantry who were lying in the woods behind

barricades at the side of the railroad, and a force of the enemy was

also pushed in on the right, where the Fourth Michigan were at work.

Long’s brigade was put in position to check the advancing Confederates,

and our battery brought up, as the woods in front and on our left

were swarming with the enemy, and the Fourth Regulars and Seventh

Pennsylvania were placed in support of the battery. Poor fellows, they were badly cut up!