The Lone Star Defenders 8

The Lone Star Defenders 8

We moved around leisurely over the country from place to place,

foraging and feeding a few days here and a few days there, and in the

early days of September, passing by way of Mount Vernon and Carthage,

we found ourselves at Scott’s Mill, on Cowskin River, near the border

of the Cherokee Nation. At Mount Vernon we witnessed a farce enacted

by Company D. Dan Dupree was their first lieutenant, and a very nice,

worthy fellow he was, too, but some of his men fell out with him about

some trivial matter, and petitioned him to resign, which he did.

Captain Hale, supposing possibly they might also be opposed to him,

and too diffident to say so, he resigned too, and the other officers

followed suit, even down to the fourth and last corporal, and for

the time the company was without an officer, either commissioned or

non-commissioned. At this early stage of the war, for an officer to

resign was a very simple and easy thing. He had only to say publicly

to his company, “I resign,” and it was so. The company was now formed

into line to prepare for the election of officers, and the mode of

procedure was as follows: The candidates would stand a few paces in

front of the line, their back to the men. The men were then instructed

to declare their choice, by standing behind him, one behind the other,

and when all votes were counted the result was declared. The outcome

on this occasion was that Captain Hale and all the old officers were

re-elected, except Dupree. Later in the year members of Company A

petitioned their captain to resign, but he respectfully declined,

and though many of his men were very indignant, we heard no more of

petitioning officers to resign.

 

While we were camped on the beautiful little Cowskin River measles

attacked our men, and we moved up to Carthage, where we remained

about eight weeks, during which time we passed through a terrible

scourge of measles and typhoid fever. As a result Company C lost

five men, including Captain Taylor. Fortunately we were in a high,

healthy country, and met in Carthage a warm-hearted, generous people.

In addition to our competent and efficient surgeon and his assistant

during this affliction, we had a number of good physicians, privates in

the regiment, who rendered all the assistance in their power in caring

for the sick. The court house was appropriated as a hospital, and,

soon filled to its capacity, the generous citizens received the sick

men into their houses and had them cared for there. How many of the

regiment were sick at one time I do not know, but there were a great

many; the number of dead I never knew. Our surgeon went from house to

house visiting and prescribing for the sick both day and night, until

it seemed sometimes as if he could not make another round.

 

The day after we reached Carthage I was taken down with a severe

case of measles, and glided easily into a case of typhoid fever. Dr.

McDugald went personally to find a home for me, and had me conveyed to

the residence of Mr. John J. Scott, a merchant and farmer, where for

seven weeks I wasted away with the fever, during all of which time I

was as kindly and tenderly cared for by Mrs. Scott as if I had been one

of her family; and her little girl Olympia, then about eleven years

old, was as kind and attentive to me as a little sister could have

been. My messmate and chum, Thomas J. Johnson, remained with me to wait

on me day and night during the entire time, and Dr. McDugald, and also

Dr. Dan Shaw, of Rusk County, were unremitting in their attention. A.

B. Summers took charge of my horse, and gave him better attention than

he did his own. Captain Taylor was also very low at the same time, and

was taken care of at the house of Colonel Ward. The fever had left me

and I had been able to sit up in a rocking chair by the fire a little

while at a time for a few days, when General Frémont, who had been

placed in command of the Federal Army in Missouri, began a movement

from Springfield in the direction of Fayetteville, Ark., and we were

suddenly ordered away from Carthage. All the available transportation

had to be used to remove the sick, who were taken to Scott’s Mill. A

buggy being procured for Captain Taylor and myself, our horses were

hitched to it and, with the assistance of Tom Johnson and John A. Boyd,

we moved out, following the march of the command into Arkansas. The

command moved south, via Neosho and Pineville, and dropped down on

Sugar Creek, near Cross Hollows, confronting General Frémont, who soon

retired to Springfield, and never returned. At Sugar Creek we stole

Ben A. Long out of camp, and made our way to Fayetteville, where we

stopped at the house of Martin D. Frazier, by whose family we were most

hospitably treated. Here Captain Taylor relapsed, and died.

 

Captain Francis Marion Taylor was a noble, brave, and patriotic man,

and we were all much grieved at his death. He had been at death’s

door in Carthage, and Dr. McDugald then thought he was going to die,

telling him so, but he rallied, and when we left there he was much

stronger than I was, being able to drive, while that would have been

impossible with me. When he relapsed he did not seem to have much

hope of recovering, and after the surgeon, at his own request, had

told him his illness would terminate fatally, he talked very freely

of his approaching death. He had two little children, a mother, and a

mother-in-law, Mrs. Wiggins, all of whom he loved very much, and said

he loved his mother-in-law as much as he loved his mother. He gave

me messages for them, placed everything he had with him (his horse,

gold watch, gold rings, sword, and his trunk of clothes) in my charge,

with specific instructions as to whom to give them—his mother, his

mother-in-law and his two little children.

 

I continued to improve, but recovered very slowly indeed, and remained

in Fayetteville until the early days of December. The regiment was

ordered to go into winter quarters at the mouth of Frog Bayou, on

the north bank of the Arkansas River, twelve miles below Van Buren,

and when they had passed through Fayetteville on their way to the

designated point, I followed, as I was now able to ride on horseback.

Cabins were soon erected for the men and stalls for the horses, and

here the main command was at home for the winter. I was furloughed

until March 1, but as the weather was fine I remained in the camp for

two weeks before starting on the long home journey to Rusk. Many other

convalescents were furloughed at this time, so finally, in company

with Dr. W. L. Gammage, who, by the way, had been made surgeon of an

Arkansas regiment, and two or three members of Company F who lived in

Cherokee County, I started to Rusk, reaching the end of my journey just

before Christmas.

 

My first night in Cherokee County was spent at the home of Captain

Taylor’s noble mother, near Larissa, where I delivered her son’s last

messages to her, and told her of his last days. The next day I went

on to Rusk and delivered the messages, horse, watch, etc., to the

mother-in-law and children. Mr. Wiggins’s family offered me a home

for the winter, and as I had greatly improved and the winter was

exceedingly mild, I spent the time very pleasantly until ready to

return to the army. Among other things I brought home the ball that

killed Leander Cole, and sent it to his mother.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER V

 

THE WAR IN MISSOURI—_Continued_

 

I Rejoin the Command—Sleeping in Snow—Ambushed—Battle of Elkhorn

Tavern (Pea Ridge)—Capturing a Battery—Deaths of Generals McCulloch

and McIntosh—Battle Continued—Casualties—Keetsville—Official

Reports—March Southward—Foraging—Lost Artillery—Illness Again.

 

 

IN the latter part of February, 1862, I left Rusk in company with Tom

Hogg, John Germany, and perhaps one or two more of our furloughed men,

for our winter quarters on the Arkansas River. We crossed Red River and

took the road running along the line between Arkansas and the Indian

Territory to Fort Smith. After crossing Red River we began meeting

refugees from Missouri and north Arkansas, on their way to Texas, who

told us that our army was moving northward, and a battle was expected

very soon. This caused us to push on more rapidly, as we were due to

return March 1, and were anxious to be in our places with the command.

When we reached Van Buren we learned that our whole army was in motion,

that a battle was imminent and might occur any day. By this time the

weather had grown quite cold, and leaving Van Buren at 9 A. M., we had

to cross Boston Mountain, facing a north wind blowing snow in our faces

all day. Nevertheless, we slept fifty miles from there that night,

camping with some commissary wagons on the road, a few miles from

Fayetteville. Here we learned that the army was camped along the road

between there and Fayetteville. The next morning we started on at a

brisk gait, but before we could pass the infantry they were filing into

the road. We took to the brush and galloped our horses about six miles

and overtook the Third Texas, which was in the advance, now passing out

of the northern suburbs of Fayetteville, and found Company C in the

advance guard on the Bentonville road.

 

We advanced slowly that day, without coming in contact with the enemy,

and camped that night at Elm Springs, where the snow fell on us all

night. Of course we had no tents, but slept on the ground without

shelter. This seemed pretty tough to a fellow who, except for a few

fine days in December, had not spent a day in camp since September,

during all that time occupying warm, comfortable rooms. Up to this time

I had never learned to sleep with my head covered, but finding it now

necessary, I would first cover my head and face to keep the snow out,

stand that as long as I could, then throw the blanket off, when the

snow would flutter down in my face, chilling me so that I could not

sleep. So between the two unpleasant conditions I was unable to get

any rest at all. Some time before daybreak we saddled up and moved on,

the snow being three or four inches deep, and early in the morning we

passed the burning fires of the Federal pickets. By nine o’clock the

storm had passed, the sun shining brightly, and about ten o’clock we

came in sight of Bentonville, a distance said to be two miles. We could

plainly see the Federal troops moving about the streets, their bright

guns glistening in the sunshine, afterwards ascertained to have been

Sigel’s column of General Curtis’ army. We were drawn up in line and

ordered to prepare for a charge. To illustrate what a magic influence

an order to charge upon the enemy has, how it sends the sluggish blood