INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF

W.G. DAVENPORT (WILLIAM GRANT)

DURING THE TIME OF HIS SERVICE IN THE CIVIL WAR

 

            I, W.G. Davenport, at the special request of my grandson, Orrin L. Smith, have undertaken to write certain incidents of my life an the life of my father, O.F. Davenport, especially those incidents relating to the Civil War period of our lives.  I have hesitated to undertake the work because I feel that I cannot do justice to the subject as I must trust almost entirely to memory in recording the incidents of those stirring and eventful times.

 

            My Mother, before her marriage, was Susan Margaret Roberts, my Father, Overton Fletcher Davenport.  My Father and Mother were married [Dec 1842] in Campbell County, Georgia, and I was born in Campbell County, Georgia, on October 16, 1845.  A younger brother, Harbert, was also born to them later, but he died when a year or two old, and my Mother died soon after.

 

            I have no distinct recollection of my Mother.  After her death, my Grandmother took and cared for me until I was about eight years old.  She was a sister of Bishop J.O. Andrew, and was a good woman and I loved her dearly.  My Grandfather Davenport was a good man and I was well cared for by them.  My Father left me with my grandparents and went to California during the gold excitement of 1849 and was gone about two years, returning about 1851.  He was later married to Eliza Agnes Pennington, who was a kind and loving mother to me, and a good wife to him.  During the year of 1854 we moved from Georgia to Texas.

 

            From 1860 to the breaking out of the war in 1861, the times were very exciting.  I, a boy, was much excited over the political discussions that were on every tongue.  My Father was a strong Union man and stood with General Sam Houston, then Governor of the State of Texas.  One of my uncles, J.A. Davenport, was a Union man.  Most of our neighbors, or quite a number were for secession.  Our home was then in Coryell County, Texas, where we had lived since 1854 having moved from Campbell County, Georgia, to that county.  There was a deep feeling on the part of the people and it was very unpopular and unsafe to too strongly advocate the Union cause.  The bitterest feeling was expressed against the Black Republican Party.  Lincoln was regarded by many as one of the worst of men and enemy to the South.  Little was then known of him, except that he advocated the freeing of the Negroes.

 

            In the south, it was the belief that each state had the right to withdraw from the Union if the majority of the people of the state so said by their votes.  So contended our orators.  This belief had but very few opponents.  The right to withdraw from the Union peaceably was contended and almost universally believed at the time in the South, especially in Texas. 

 

There was great bitterness against what was termed the Black Republican Party everywhere in the South.  Agitation and fear of the rising of the Negroes against their Masters was feared.  There was much agitation and attempts were made by some in the North to incite the Negroes to rise against their Masters. 

 

John Brown had gone into the State of Virginia with armed men to incite the Negroes to rise; then followed later by the call for soldiers to repel the invaders, and a feeling of bitterness toward men who were from the North.  Some idea may be thus conveyed of the conditions in Texas at that time.  Then followed the firing on Fort Sumter; the call for secession, the vote for secession, the retirement of General Sam Houston from the Governor’s office; and the State under a new administration.  The call for soldiers, the recruiting camps, drills and enlistments all followed in rapid order.  This was before I was 16 years old.

 

My father, after the vote to secede, although a Union man and against the secession, was obedient to the call of the State, believing that the majority should rule and that the State had only exercised its rights.  Therefore he was one of the first to enlist for the service of the State and the South.

 

A company was organized and Captain Brice Hartgraves was elected Captain, and Birch, Davenport and Ashly were elected lieutenants.  A flag was presented to the Company; this flag having been made by the wives, daughters and sweethearts of the soldiers, and the Company marched to Galveston where other soldiers were in duty.  The Martial spirit was alive in every home.  We had problems of securing bread and clothes and other weighty matters, but went cheerfully to work on those problems.

 

            At Galveston, or rather at Virginia Point the military camp, the company of Captain Hartgraves was consolidated with one from Bosque County.  My Father resigned his office as Lieutenant and the officer from Bosque County took his place in the company so as to make the company full that it might at once go into the regiment then forming. 

 

My Father was sent as a recruiting officer and raised another company in Comal and adjoining counties.  Captain Bassel was elected Captain of this company, and Albert Green, Boatright and O.F. Davenport were elected Lieutenants.  This company was also admitted to the regiment then forming at Virginia Point the known as Nelson’s regiment, Colonel Nelson commanding.  Hartgraves Company and Bassel’s Company were afterward known as Company “H” and Company “K” of the 10^th Texas Infantry, and were afterward commanded by O.F. Davenport, who was later promoted to the office of Captain and commanded the company in many battles.

 

The regiment was ordered to move to Arkansas to reinforce the Confederate Command there, and were later sent to Arkansas Port, took part in the battle there that resulted in the fall of the port, and its surrender of the men.  It was generally believed to have been because of the incompetence of General Holmes who commanded the Confederate forces.

 

The men of the 10^th Infantry were sent to Camp Douglas, Ill., as prisoners of war.  The officers were sent to Camp Chase, Ohio.  They were later exchanged and sent to Richmond, Virginia.  After a short stay, they were reorganized and sent to the army at Tennessee under General Bragg and were in General Cleburne’s Division; took part in the battles of Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain and in all the campaigns of General Bragg and General Joseph E. Johnston, on the retreat before Sherman to the fall of Atlanta.  Then went with General Hood into Tennessee and took part in the battles of Columbia, Franklin, and Nashville. 

My Father was wounded at Franklin [Nov 30, 1864] by a spent ball while leading his company.  General Granberry was killed in that fight and also General Cleburne was killed at the head of Granberry’s Texas Brigade and on the charge that was made on the Federal position.  My uncle, J.A. Davenport, was also wounded twice in this charge and many of my neighbor boys were killed here. 

 

My company was on the extreme right of the Confederate line and I could hear the heavy firing and knew that my Father and his friends were in this terrible fight.  I was in the cavalry service and we were watching the Confederate right flank.  I rode over the field of battle next morning and knew that terrible loss had been sustained by the Texas Brigade, but could not learn much as the army was moving forward to Nashville some 18 miles distance.

 

I got leave from my company and joined Granberry’s Brigade, went into position with them that night at Nashville in front of the Federal lines, helped them dig trenches and make secure their position.  We fed on parched corn and stewed pumpkin, which I and Mr. Jim Campbell foraged that night from the commissary and which furnished food for the entire Company “K” of about seven men, all that was left of them after the battle of Franklin, able for duty.

 

Later my Father was able to resume command of his company.  On the 15^th and 16^th of December, the battle of Nashville opened and he was again wounded, being shot this time in the mouth.  I reached the company on leave of absence from my company which was then at Murfreesboro, and on the evening of the 15^th of December found my father badly wounded.

 

On the night of the 15^th the position of Granberry’s Brigade was moved from the right of the Confederate position and the hospital had to be also moved and was being moved on the morning of the 16^th.  On that morning the battle opened briskly and there seemed to me to be confusion in the movements of the Confederate, so I requested the Surgeon in command of the hospital to allow me to take my Father from the ambulance and field and take him back to Franklin where he could be cared for; and the surgeon readily gave me the necessary written authority, and I placed my father on my horse and we moved as fast as I could walk for Franklin, I leading the horse.

 

We reached our destination late in the evening and I placed my father in the hospital where he was cared for that night.  There I met my uncle, J.A. Davenport, who had been wounded at Franklin though he was now able to be about.  During the night the army which had been badly defeated by the Union Army under General Thomas at Nashville on the 16^th, the second day of the fight, began passing through Franklin in a disorderly retreat which continued all night and the next morning.  During the night my saddle was stolen and I felt myself lucky that I still had my horse.

 

Against the advice of the surgeon, my father insisted on my taking him on with the army.  Dr. Crane, the surgeon in charge, gave me his saddle.  Upon urgent request of my father, I got the doctor to give me necessary papers for the move and I mounted father upon my horse and started on the long march and fearful retreat of the defeated army.

 

I had been wounded in Mississippi before starting on this campaign, having been shot in the head, and had not done regular duty for more than two months.  I was in bad condition to undertake to walk and keep with the army in full retreat; we had no food and but little money and were away from our commands and everything was in confusion and the three of us wounded.  The outlook was terrible.

 

My care was not for myself, but for my father.  Uncle and I could take care of ourselves – parched corn was reasonably certain and could generally be had, but my father was helpless and while he could sit on the horse, he had to be assisted on and off, and he must be fed and could eat nothing – except milk and some liquid food.  I had to search at all times for food for him.  My appeals for him were seldom refused.  I carried food for him and generally got the best there was.

 

After leaving Franklin, we had a very hard day’s march reaching Columbia that night and slept in the hospital which was the courthouse and was being used as a hospital.  After arriving from Franklin on the 17^th, we remained in the hospital that night and on the 18^th, I went out  into the country in search of food for my father, and was able to procure food for him and others of the wounded, and the ladies of the town and surrounding country came in and gave all the care and help possible to the wounded.

 

On the morning of the 19^th of December a train was made up and started with the wounded, who were able to travel to Pulaski.  I got my father and uncle on the train and saw them off.  Then mounted my horse and rode with the other soldiers to Pulaski and after much privation reached that place on the evening of the 20^th and immediately got my father on my horse and again started our journey, Uncle and I walking by his side.

 

The snow began to fall.  At the outskirts of the town we had to cross a considerable stream.  Wagons, artillery and infantry soldiers were filling the road at the stream.  I lead my horse to the stream and started him into it, told my father to hold him straight and I and my uncle - under protest from the teamsters - mounted a wagon and rode to about the center of the stream, the driver cursing and ordering us off all the while, saying that his team could not pull the additional load, but we insisted on riding.

 

 

 

[b1] 

 

However, the team stalled about middle of the stream and we had to dismount into water ice cold and about waist deep receiving hearty abuse from the driver.  We had then to go and look out for my father.  We were wet, cold and wounded, and it was snowing fiercely. 

 

We walked on some five or six miles from Pulaski.  I, cold and hungry, called at a nice looking farm house near the road and asked for shelter and food for my wounded companions and was told that General Hood had engaged the house for his quarters for that night, but my pleas for my wounded and suffering companions prevailed.  I was told to bring them in.  A good fire, warmth, food and the kindest treatment we had. 

 

We were there joined by two other wounded men.  One was Colonel Hobbs and a lieutenant whose name I am unable to recall.  They belonged to an Arkansas regiment.  They were badly wounded and were unable to care for themselves, and I willingly undertook to care for them, and we were companions until we reached Tuscumbia, Alabama.  They proved to be fine men and jolly companions.

 

Our trials were many and sometimes I feared that my companions would go hungry, but they said that I could beg a man’s tobacco out of his mouth, and it was hard to resist my appeals when I exhibited my wounded charges.  The next night we slept around a camp fire which we kept going all night.  There was snow on the ground about us, yet we were cheerful and thankful that we had sufficient health and strength to travel.

 

We were off early the next morning as the Yanks were pushing right after us and we made a hard days travel amid scattered commands of infantry, artillery and wagon trains and wounded men, both [on] horseback and afoot. 

 

At the crossing of a swift deep creek – Shoal Creek, I think it was – where all was confusion, General Hood came up looking worn and tired, but with kindly words to all, saying to the soldiers, “Boys, it is all my fault, you did your best.”

 

All had been confusion, but in a little while there followed order where everything had been confusion; stragglers were halted and placed with organized companies.  The cavalry had covered the rear of the retreating army and now brigades of infantry began to show organization and division commanders and corps commanders were in evidence.  Guards were placed at streams and the retreat began to be more orderly.

 

That night, we attempted to find shelter at a fine place where corn, hogs, and everything seems plentiful, but we were denied shelter an food, and neither love nor money would secure either.

 

My wounded charges were told to stop at some cabins near by, although we were ordered by the owner of the place to leave.  Father and the Colonel were worn out and suffering and I told them that food would be found some way.  It was my plan to kill a hog if I could not buy food for them and, in fact, we attempted to kill one.  My uncle shot at one that I had made go by him, but did not kill it.  A guard ran out and made a row, but we told him we would give him a shot if he did not go away.  Some other soldiers, who were more fortunate than we, gave us meat sufficient for our needs which, with parched corn roasted in the ashes of our fire, made for those of us who could use it,  a fine meal, but my father had to have milk which I secured near by and thus after much anxiety another cold and disagreeable night was passed.

 

The next day the march was resumed and, after enduring many hardships, we crossed the Tennessee River on a pontoon bridge some miles above Florence and above where we had crossed on the advance into Tennessee.  After crossing the river we felt much safer as we had expected the Yankees to attack us at the river, but the crossing of the entire army was accomplished with safety and we were out of the state of Tennessee. 

 

That night at Tuscumbia, Alabama, we stayed and on the next day at a point some ten miles below Tuscumbia my wounded charges and friends were placed safely on the cars – a sad goodbye spoken – the train moved away and I was again alone in an army of complete strangers to me.  Father and uncle were gone; we to meet sometime in the future if our lives were spared.  My Arkansas friends I never met again; my Father and uncle I met after the close of the war in our far off home in Texas. 

 

Here when my friends had been brought safely from the danger of immediate capture and were again able to secure transportation to some safe retreat where their wounds could be cared for, my own course was changed.  I had to await my own command which arrived on the next evening.  I had a pass from the captain to visit my Father’s command which had been given me before the battle of Nashville.  After our defeat and retreat I had not been with my company until now.  My company being a company of scouts, the pass form my captain was sufficient authority to pass me anywhere in the Army.  Our company was then sent forward ahead of the main army with instructions to go to Mississippi and learn if the Yanks were sending forces by water on the Mississippi River to intercept our retreat.

 

At or near Oxford, Mississippi, our main company halted for a rest and a scouting party of about 15 men under Sergeant Berry were sent to the Mississippi River.  I was sent with this scouting party and we started at once on our way to the river, near Helena, Arkansas.

 

In getting to the point where we had decided to strike the river, we were forced to cross the swamp which was very wide, - about fifty miles, I think or possibly more – before we reached the river we learned that the Yanks had taken charge of a large plantation lying between a canal or lagoon an the river which they were guarding with solders, and were stocking and farming on a large scale.  This farm or plantation was on the east bank of the Mississippi River and in the state of Mississippi, and on the west bank of the river opposite was a town of Helena, Arkansas, which was a regular army post of the Yanks and at which were about ten thousand soldiers both infantry and cavalry.

 

Our sergeant-in-command of our party after securing full information regarding the strength of the guard on the farm and the position of these guard, number of stock and amount of supplies decided that it would be possible to surprise these guards and capture the stock, but in order to cross the canal it was necessary to ferry as the canal was wide and deep, and there was danger of our being surprised and captured in our attempt on account of having to ferry across, but after the enterprise was fully discussed and a vote taken by the squad of scouts, it was decided to make the attempt.

 

We were concealed in the swamp about a mile from the ferry until late in the afternoon, then we marched out to the road and moved rapidly to the ferry.  The ferryman was made to ferry us across and one man left to guard him and have everything in readiness for us upon our return.  The sergeant then hurried the men forward, surprised and captured a part of the guards, only a few shots being fired. Then the Negroes under guard gathered the stock and assisted us in ferrying it across the canal, all of this being done quickly and within about two miles of a large force of the enemy which was posted almost in sight of the opposite side of the river. 

 

It was then near sundown when the stock were all crossed, the ferry boat turned loose and floated down the canal, the stock were put in motion for the all-night drive out and away from the Yanks whom we were sure would be after us in a short time.  We moved as fast as possible in the darkness and when we had gone a few miles and were beginning to feel that we would be able to make our escape from the Yanks, we were startled by a challenge of “Halt, who goes there?”

 

Our officer answered, “Friends, who are you?”

 

Then came the order, “Dismount and advance.”

 

Sergeant Berry then said to us, “Boys, be ready, those in charge of the stock look out for them and the remainder ride forward with me.”  Then in answer to the command to dismount and advance, he said, “I will not.  I command a squad of Texas Scouts in the Confederate service and am ready to fight if necessary.  Who are you and what do you want?”

 

The answer was, “I, too, am a Confederate scout, Captain Stanley, and have my company with me.  I demand that you surrender the stock you have with you.”

 

To this Berry said, “If you get us or our stock it will be after we are dead.  We fight but do not surrender.  Clear the way or else fight. We are ready to move out.  We expect Yanks after us as we have just captured all the stock on the plantation near Helena and are intending to make our way out.  We do not wish to fight you, but will if you do not allow us to pass.  If you are Confederate Scouts, there should be no trouble between us.”

 

At this, Captain Stanly rode forward with some of his men at the same time, saying, “You can pass; we were on our way to make the same capture you have made and can but congratulate you upon your enterprise and daring.  To accomplish what you have done with the number you have is indeed remarkable.  We are willing to aid you if necessary and should the enemy follow you we can give them such a reception as they do not expect and as that work is done, there is other work here which, if we combine our forces can be done and will now go with you to our camp.”

 

The camp was some miles away in a secure place.  This was done as now we had force enough to be safe and did not need to rush all night in the dark, muddy swamp road. 

 

The next morning it was determined that I and another man should take the stock out of the swamp and sell them while the sergeant and the other men remained with the other company.  We were then to report back to the camp of Captain Stanley.  I and the other man went with and sold the stock, and in a few days returned to camp.  My part of the money received for the stock amounted to more than $20.000 in Confederate money.  I paid $125 for a pair of jeans pants, and $125 for a pair of rough Cavalry boots.

 

After returning to the camp of Captain Stanley, (Sergeant Berry and men were away on a scouting expedition when I got there) and while waiting for them to return it became necessary to send in a dispatch to the Federal officer at the fort below Helena and near Friars Point, Mississippi, but opposite and in Arkansas.  Volunteers were called for to take the dispatch to Friars Point.  This call was made to men under Captain Stanley as Lieutenant Phillipps of his company was to go with the dispatch under a flag of truce but from the company there were no volunteers so I and a man of the name of Orendoff, a Texan of the 6^th Texas Cavalry, volunteered to go with Lieutenant Phillipps.

 

It was about 25 miles to Friars Point.  We started after I had turned over all the money I had received from the sale of the horses to the man who went with me to be turned over to Sergeant Berry and the men, also my share of the money was left with him.  We then started on the trip little suspecting what was in store for us.

 

We reached Friars Point late in the afternoon.  The officer for whom the dispatch was intended was a Captain Thomas who was commanding a fort on the opposite bank of the river in Arkansas.  We found Captain Thomas at Friars Point in a skiff with about 18 Negro soldiers.  When he saw us he put off back from the town into the river.  We rode to the levee and waved our flag of truce and he then came back and with his men came up on the levee and we delivered the dispatch to him and chatted pleasantly for a time.  It was then near sundown.  Lieutenant Phillipps suggested that as we were then in the Federal lines it would be best to remain under the protection of the Federals as it would be a violation of law to travel with flag of truce at night.

 

Captain Thomas agreeing to this, we decided to stay, though I then protested against staying, preferring to throw the flag away and getting back out anyway, but I was overruled.  A brother of General Pillar who was there and present advising us to stay, (General Pillar was commander at Vicksburg when it was surrendered.)

 

For some time I had serious thoughts of going alone on the return for I could not help fearing that we had made a fatal mistake in remaining.  Orenduff and myself had fed our horses and we were given a room separate from the main house where we slept.  Phillipps slept at the main house.  We were near the river as the town was on the bank of the river.

 

During the night boats were continually passing over the river, dogs were barking and a feeling of uneasiness kept me from sleeping much and before it was finally light, Oernduff and I were up and had fed our horses and had started from the barn to the house when we saw a woman running toward us.  She told us to “Run, the Yanks are coming,” just then the command “Halt,” rang out from behind us.

 

I looked and about 30 Negro soldiers in [the] command of a Negro sergeant were coming at us some fifty steps away with bayonets fixed and guns leveled on us, still ordering us to halt and throw up our hands.

 

Orenduff was before me and jumped behind a fence and outhouse.  I put up my hands but kept moving forward and dodged behind the fence and outhouse and ran into the main house and got the flag of truce.  By this time, Phillipps was up and we all walked through the house onto a porch on the opposite side.

 

 As we stood on the porch we saw other soldiers coming – two different squads from different directions – one hundred men in all.  These were commanded by white officers.  We were entirely surrounded with no possible chance to escape if we had time.  We stood with hands on pistols in scabbards, with every gun and bayonet pointed, guns cocked and Negroes swearing that they would kill us, some of them with bayonets not five feet from us and ordering us to throw down our arms and surrender.  We claimed protection under the white flag and told them that we would die fighting rather than surrender our arms, without we were assured protection.

 

The captain then ordered the Negroes to lower guns and stop threatening us which finally they did and we then delivered our arms to the captain.  We were then searched and placed aboard a steamboat and carried to Helena where we were placed in the county jail and at night were locked in the cell. 

 

On the next day we were taken from the jail and taken before General Buford who then commanded the forces at Helena.  He questioned us, but refused to release us, saying he would investigate further and we might be released later.  We were then returned to the jail where we remained [for] some time.  We were later placed on a boat and started to Camp Douglas at Chicago where we arrived in company with other prisoners, in a few days, and remained until the war ended.

 

My prison experience then began in earnest.  Our guards from Helena, Arkansas, to Chicago were men from the 27^th Illinois Cavalry, if I remember correctly, and were from the first where fighting was not a new thing.  These men were very kind to us and would do anything to accommodate us.  They respected us and we them, but when we went into Camp Douglas things were entirely different.  Our guards were mostly men who had not been in battle and were vicious and unkind; offering insults instead of kindness was a rule but with them there were some exceptions.  I wish to say that men who had fought on either side were kind and considerate of their foes, it made no difference which side they were from.

 

For some days things moved quietly with me.  In prison, the food was good enough but was scarce.  It consisted in loaf bread and pickled beef for noon diet.  One half loaf of bread and a small piece of beef.  For breakfast we had a pint cup of beef soup and bread mixed, which we called “Gosh.”  In regular order then we had for breakfast, one pint of “Gosh,” for noon meal ½ loaf bread and a small piece of pickled beef, with an occasional allowance of potatoes.  Two meals per day was the limit.

 

There was bugle calls for us to get out of bed and later for roll call, later for breakfast and then bugle call after which we could cross the streets from the different barracks anyway we chose, where prisoners were allowed to go until the bugle sounded for barracks and bunks.

 

The streets and barracks were patrolled day and night.  The prison was surrounded by a plank wall, some twelve or fourteen feet high with parapet on inside on where the guards walked.  This parapet was some three and one half feet below the top of the wall and wide enough for guards to be able to pass each other.  The walls were laid out in beats, numbered, with lanterns for each beat.  Inside the wall and what was known as a “dead line” made by placing a post in the ground with planks nailed to the top some eighteen inches high, and about ten feet from the wall.  The ground between this dead line and the wall was planted in vegetables and cultivated. 

 

The prison was kept clean.  Rakes and brooms were in daily use.  The floor of the barracks was about four feet above the ground so everything could be seen under the house.  The floors of the barracks were swept and sprinkled with sand each morning.  Spittoons were provided and a man was detailed to attend each spittoon daily and no one was allowed to spit on the floor and if caught doing so, he was at once put in charge of a spittoon.

 

The barracks each held about 250 men and had a kitchen at one end and out off from the main barrack by a partition wall with a cubby hole through which the food was passed to the different messes when it was prepared by the cooks.  No prisoners except the cooks were allowed in the kitchen.  The streets ran each way between the barracks.  The barracks were provided with bunks for sleeping, six bunks together from floor to roof.  The barracks had glass windows for light and ventilation and one door for entrance and egress.

 

The prison was said to have some twenty thousand prisoners when I was there.  The barracks for guards was separated from the prison by the plank wall.  Artillery was kept trained on the main prison and a sufficient guard to quell any uprising, was kept in reserve.  The hospital was also separated from the main barracks by the prison wall and was also enclosed.  Bulletin boards were provided and news was posted on them.  Preaching was permitted and gatherings for Divine worship allowed.  Workmen among the prisoners who cared to, were allowed to work under the barracks floors during the day and many beautiful rings, combs, toothpicks, and ornaments were made and offered for sale here to the prisoners and visitors who came into prison to see the sights.  Card playing and all games were permitted and dancing was allowed. 

 

There was a notice posted for five hundred prisoners to exchange for Federal prisoners at Tyler, Texas, and on the day that they were to enroll there was a great number in line.  I made the attempt but could not get near the place where the names were being enrolled.  Next day a party, John Hornesby, a member of a Georgia regiment, said to me that he had enrolled and had decided that he did not wish to go to Tyler and offered to sell me his name and chance.  I bought, and when the time came for prisoners to start I was among them with blanket and haversack.

 

Guards were placed around us separating us from the other prisoners.  Roll was called, beginning alphabetically, “A”, “B”, “C”, D”, “E”, “F”, “G”, and then “H” found me ready to answer to the name that I had purchased: that of John Hornesby, but John was not called.  There I stood until the entire list had finished.  I and four others were left standing alone.

 

Then came the officer in charge, Captain Hastings by name, and he asked, “What are you here for?”

 

To answer to my name,” was the reply.

 

“What is you name?”

 

“Hornesby, John Hornesby,” said I.

 

“Oh, I see you refused to sign,” Said he, “And when I said “No”, he replied that I had, and said “Now I’ll make you sick of this.  You ought to have known that you couldn’t fool me.  You go ride ‘Morgan’s Mule.”  And I went.

 

This famous mule of Morgan’s consisted of a 2 x 8 scantling on legs some eighteen or twenty feet high, and was used as an instrument of punishment.  I rode the mule until noon and was then allowed to dismount and ordered to report back to prison gate in the afternoon.  On reporting I was furnished with a shovel and ordered to shovel sand which I did until night.  Was then ordered to report for duty the next morning which I did.

 

I was then furnished with a barrel shirt made by sawing a sugar barrel in two and nailing slats on the end just wide enough for the head to go between the slats.  This half barrel then came down over the arms and body.  There were five of us thus supplied and we were next ordered to march up and down the prison streets.  This we did for eighteen days.  Then we were supplied with brooms and rakes and made to sweep and rake the prison streets and were sometimes required to cultivate the vegetables which were planted between the “dead line” and the prison wall.

 

This was kept up until another officer took charge of the gate.  Captain Hill was his name.  He inquired the reason for our being at this work, and when told, he said, “For shame, men go to your barracks.  I will not allow such shameful acts to continue.  You did not deserve punishment as you committed no wrong, and I will not allow this wrong to be done you for another hour.”  This ended my work in prison.  I have never felt kindly toward Captain Hastings, who thus without just cause punished us as he did. 

 

***********************************************************

 

In giving the incidents relating to my Father’s service in the Army, I have failed to give my own experiences in their due order, and will now give my own experiences in due order as best I can remember.

 

Sometime in 1862-63, I do not recall the exact date, a company was organized in Coryell County, Texas.  The call was made for boys and old men.  I joined the company which was organized for frontier service against the Indians as they were very troublesome in the county at this [time].  At times they would come into the western part of the county and it had reached a point where they visited the county almost every full moon and drove out herds of horses and sometimes people were killed or captured.  A boy was carried away by them one raid. 

 

I was about seventeen years old at the time I joined.  J.K. Shipman was elected Captain of the company, Bedford Lanham was elected First Lieutenant, and I do not remember the names of other officers.  I was elected Sergeant.  Only a part of the company was called out for duty each month.  I was called out with Lieutenant Bedford Lanham and we were great friends.  He was a fine man, brave and kind, and he seemed to take a great fancy to me and I went with him continually when we had serious service to attend to.

At that time some dangerous deserters were in hiding in the rough portions of the country and were doing much damage and were terrorizing the people who were sent after them.  On one occasion a rich farmer was held up and robbed, at his home, of all his money and he himself was badly treated and abused.  Word was sent out at once and Lieutenant Lanham and myself and a squad of men were sent after the robbers.  We took the trail and on the second night after the robbery, we found one of the men about sixty miles from where the robbery was committed, and in a settlement of Norwegians in Bosque County.

 

We found the home where the robber was located and surrounded the house and went in on him.  After some delay he surrendered and we took him back to Gatesville, the county seat of Coryell County, and handed him over to the civil authorities.

 

We scouted along the western line of Coryell County and into Hamilton and Bosque and Lampasas County, but we failed to find the Indians.  Our company and several others from Bosque, Erath, Hamilton and other surrounding counties were formed into a battalion for frontier service.  Major George B. Erath, an old Indian fighter and surveyor, and who had served as a Ranger Captain, was placed in command of the battalion.  Some wagons loaded with ammunition (eight mules to the wagon) were sent from Austin, Texas, to the companies of this battalion for the use of scouts.  Each company received from these wagons, their portion of the ammunition and then furnished a guard to escort the wagons to the next company.

 

From Gatesville, Captain J.K. Shipman and fifteen men were sent with the wagons to act as a guard into Erath County.  I was with the escort and was second in command.  When about thirty miles from our destination, we camped for the night on a creek near the Brazos River.  This point was near a noted mountain peak where the Indians frequently passed in and out on their raids.  We kept out pickets at all times when we were in camp and had out advance guard when traveling.

 

The next morning, Captain Shipman surprised us by saying that he would take two of the men and would go ahead of the wagons, and would leave me in command with the wagons.  At the time, he gave me instructions that he would follow and old government trail which led across the Brazos River and up into the prairie country in Johnson County, which while further, but he thought safer than the valley road leading up the Brazos River, after crossing.  He also instructed me to follow the road that he was taking.  The Texans were started soon after the captain left us.

 

We had to turn up the river about seven miles before crossing and were delayed for a considerable time in crossing and it was near noon before we reached the forks of the road.  At this point, one of the mules became quite sick and the driver said that he would be compelled to let him rest so we halted for noon.  While camped for noon we learned from someone who passed us that the company to which we were to turn over the wagon train, was up the valley above Pilot Peak, and it was a much nearer way and better road up the valley.  The teamsters said that they could not afford to drive the teams the distance on the road the captain had taken on account of the sick mule, so after a general consultation with the men under my command, it was decided best to go by the nearest route.

 

We did so and that night we camped a few miles from the point where the other company had camped.  Our captain had gone on around and he and his men were in the other county camped for the night with the other company, but was expecting us on the road he had traveled.  He started out the next morning to meet us.  About nine o’clock a.m., we reached the other company and turned over the wagon train to the captain of the company, taking his receipt for the safe delivery of everything and immediately we set out on the return journey.

 

That night we reached the camping place where the captain had left us and he also reached that place and was very angry.  Explanations were useless and he certainly blessed me for not following the instruction that he had given to the letter.  If he had waited at the other camp all would have been well, and he could have turned the wagon train over to the other company himself, but for me, I had no right to follow a different road even though it was better and nearer – facts that we did not know when he left us and did not find out until he returned, because he had not met the party that gave us the information.  The sick mule counted nothing for him. 

 

I remained with the company until I was transferred to a scouting company, Captain Cobb’s Texas Scouts, then operating in Mississippi, near Raymond in Hines County, Mississippi.  The officers were J.T. Cobb, Captain Frank Smith, First Lieutenant J.C. Sparks, Second Lieutenant Sterling White, Third Lieutenant and Joe Riley, Orderly Sergeant.  After the transfer to Cobb’s Company, about twenty men, recruits, in charge of Lieutenant J.C. Sparks, started from Waco, Texas, for Raymond, Mississippi, where we were to meet the company. 

 

It was on June 18^th, I think that we mounted our horses at Waco and started on our long journey. 

 

One day was about as another until we reached the Mississippi River at Rodney.  Rain fell almost every day all the way.  At Rodney we intended crossing our horses over the river by swimming them along side of the skiff which was to carry men, saddles and luggage.  We were detained at the river by rain storm and had difficulty in getting skiffs to carry us across. 

 

The next morning a gunboat was on hand and landed a lot of men in force.  They were almost ready to land when we discovered them.  Owing to a heavy fog their presence was not known.  The gunboat had anchored in midstream during the night and all was so still that we had not heard them.

 

There had been a dance given in town in honor of the Texas soldier boys, which had lasted all night.  The next morning we had fed our horses which were in a lot near the levee.  Lieutenant Sparks and I had gone, too, and sat down on the levee on the lookout for the Yankees.  The Lieutenant was sleepy and tired and had lay down with his head in my lap and was asleep. 

 

When the fog lifted a little I saw several boat loads of blue coats heading for the landing near our horses.  I hurriedly awoke the Lieutenant and we rushed for our horses, threw open the gate, fired our pistols and called to the men to get the horses out and off. 

Throwing our saddles on and rushing we got the stock away just in time to keep them from being captured.  The Yankees, when they found that we had escaped, returned to the gunboat and shelled the woods for some time and were on the lookout for us all that day and night.

 

We then went down the river some twenty miles and on the second night we crossed the river and reached the other side just at daylight with the old gunboat in sight and after us with a few shells thrown in on our trail.  We then moved out from the river a few miles and stopped at a large farm house and procured breakfast for ourselves and feed for our horses.  After a short rest, we again mounted and started for Raymond. 

 

We were riding along, thankful that we had been so fortunate to cross the river without serious harm to us or our horses, and were going up a hill through a deep cut and out on to the level ground when, just as the front ranks reached the level, a volley was fired into our ranks at close range and was promptly replied to by our boys with pistols, but we had to get back and away. 

 

We had ridden into a noon camp of Yankees about a thousand strong and both sides were very much surprised.  I was riding a horse belonging to one of my friends who had two horses and was leading my horse which was very tired.  When the firing began, I turned my horse loose and drawing my pistol rode up the hill to the front, but when Lieutenant Sparks saw the large force that we had come in contact with, ordered us to move back briskly and get away and the Yankees seemed to be willing to speed us on our way for they opened up on us in a way that made the going very lively. 

 

Some of the boys started to follow the main road which was in open view of the Yankees for a long way but the lieutenant ordered us to turn into a left hand road which we did.  My horse started to follow the men in the lead and when they turned to get into the left hand road after they had passed the forks, the horse kept on down the main road and the lieutenant ordered me to not attempt to follow him so I lost my horse in that fray which was a very bitter pill to me and I regretted that I had ever turned him loose.  The Yankees did not follow us more than a mile. 

 

We then made our way around and the next day or two reached Raymond and the main company.  We were welcomed by all the boys and officers and as the Yankees were very active we had to move out on scout duty without any rest for several days.  Cobb’s Company scouted between Natchez and Yazoo City on the Mississippi River, Big Black and Yazoo Rivers also.  Around Fort Gibson, Vicksburg, Raymond, Jackson and Clifton, the Federals occupied Vicksburg and the gunboats with Federal soldiers were on the river at the towns along the shore and were constantly making raids through the country and back to their ports along the rivers.  It was the object of the scouting company to harass the Federals on these raids and in turn raid on them, and when possible do them all the damage that we could.  So we were likely to meet the enemy any day or to be surprised by them any hour, day or night. 

 

We slept under arms nearly all of the time and were ready.  We were taught to shoot accurately while riding horseback at full speed.  We were trained to shoot accurately with pistols, on the raise instead of the downward movement.  By this movement in firing rapidly we did not overshoot or were not nearly so likely to shoot too high.  We trained by running our horses by trees at full speed and shooting as rapidly as possible. 

 

In our scouting expeditions we captured many prisoners near Vicksburg when the Yankees sent out foraging parties, which we would surprise within three to five miles of the city.  On one raid we went near Vicksburg and on the Yazoo River we made a dash on a large plantation where there were a number of guards and Negroes.  We captured a number of the Yankees and I rushed into a Negro cabin where I had seen Negroes go.  Everywhere there was confusion; shots were being fired all around.  Our orders were to round up the Negroes as some of them were soldiers, and also the white men were to be taken.  In this cabin I found a Negro man in bed and told him to get out with the others.  I had my pistol ready and leveled on him and said “Out with you,’ and he replied, “Boss, ise sick sor, ise got the small pox.’

 

“All right,’ I said “Get out of that bed quick or you will get lead too.”  I thought it was a trick of escape, but I got him out and in line with the other prisoners and upon examination it was found that he did have smallpox and, of course, we allowed him to get back in bed.

 

A few nights after this raid, I was on night duty at a bridge on a road from Vicksburg up the Yazoo River when some time after midnight I heard someone approaching on horseback. When near enough I halted the party and said “Advance,” upon advancing the party proved to be a woman who was a blockade runner.  I hated to arrest her but that was my orders so I called the corporal of the guard who took her to the main camp.

 

We continued to scout in this section for some time.  We made our main camp on Oak Ridge, between Big Black and Yazoo Rivers and left this camp in September on a scout by way of Raymond and southwest of Raymond to some town that I do not now recall the name of, and went on by way of Port Gibson.

 

On the night of September 29^th we camped a few miles from Port Gibson.  The morning of the 30^th we started for Port Gibson and were intending to stay at that town a few days and then move on to Natchez.  We reached the town before noon and put our horses in an old livery stable, fed them and then scattered over the town as we pleased with orders to meet at the stable after we had dinner.  We had made inquiry of the officers of a company stationed in town as to the whereabouts of the Yankees and they had told us that the Yankees were not nearer than Grand Gulf on the Mississippi River some nine or ten miles away, so we felt reasonably safe until we should meet in the afternoon.  Still, pickets were placed on the roads leading into town, but we depended on the other company reporting any raid that might threaten us. 

 

In company with several of my friends and comrades we ate dinner at a private house and had been invited to return there for supper and we had just started to return to the stable when several shots rang out in direction of Grand Gulf.  Ambrose Crane, Newt Crane, Joe Ellison and Willis Oglesby starting running in [the] direction of the stables for our horses. 

 

As we reached the stable the officers were calling to the men to fall into line and, in a moment, all of our men were in the stable saddling horses faster than ever before, and before we were saddled up and ready the Yanks had dashed up and fired into the stable, but they received a warm welcome and were driven back. 

 

Just as I mounted and rode out into line, Captain Cobb, Lieutenant Smith and Lieutenant Sparks were calling to the men to fall into line that the Yanks were coming again.  Then Captain Cobb said, “Men, I am going to charge the Yanks.  I am going to lead you. Every man follow me. Yell at the top of your voice, raise your pistols but do not fire until I fire.  I am going to them and through them.  Come, follow me.”

 

We went four abreast was the order of our formation, fourteen in all.  We charged through the streets of Port Gibson ahead into the Yanks and through their ranks.  The shooting began when we got to the Yanks yelling and shooting, where the Yanks were the thickest we went.  Saddles were emptied, men were struck with guns and death was everywhere. 

 

When I noticed after we had rushed into a large body of Yanks it seemed that we were standing still, whether checked or from choice I do not know.  I remember facing the Yanks and aiming at one who was trying to shoot me.  I shot and he or someone else shot me.  The ball hit me in the head and I was stunned but was not knocked from my horse.  I have no recollection as to how or when the captain and the remainder of the men left me. 

 

When I first know what I was about, I was in the midst of the Yankees.  Lines were formed to my right and to my left and I was facing in the same direction in which we had charged, and in front and on each side of me were Yankees.  I was as bloody as could be, had my pistol in my right hand and an Enfield rifle in my left hand.  I also held the bridle reins in my left hand.  This was the situation when an officer rode up to me, saver in hand, and said, “Surrender, Sir.” 

 

I had taken in the situation and did not think that I could escape, but I was determined to try.  My answer to the officer was to level my pistol on him, fire, yell and put the spurs to my horse and lay flat on the horse’s side, shooting as I went.

 

I was told by some of our men who observed my movements that the Yanks struck at me with their guns, but that they did not at first try to shoot me.  I suppose they thought that the wound in my head had crazed me and did not try to kill me.  When they did shoot, the bullets went over me, many of them striking the houses as I ran beside them and after I had placed a block of houses between me and the Yanks and was on the next street, I then ran right into another company of Yanks.  But as I was going toward them and alone, they did not seem to wish to shoot me until I turned to go back down the street in the direction of the stable from which we had started.  When I got back to the stable, all of the company were mounted and ready to move.  One wagon with some guns but no ammunition, and some bacon, was left in the stable and I believe the team was also left but I am not sure of that.

 

By this time the Yanks had moved up and taken positions so as to command the different streets and had again opened fire on us at the stable.  The captain then ordered us out of the stable and town and to cross the river or bayou.  We started and had gone but a short distance when Newt Crane who was riding at my side was shot dead, being hit in the head.  Two of the boys dismounted and carried him into a house, remounted and rode away. 

 

We traveled rapidly out of the town.  Several men of our company were slightly wounded.  One had been struck on the head.  His horse had been shot down under him at short range and while he was tangled in some way the Yank who had killed the horse hit him over the head with his gun and ordered him to surrender.  His answer was, “Damn you, you killed my horse and I will kill you,” and with that, he shot the Yank dead, unsaddled his horse and carried his saddle away. 

 

After he started to leave, his horse looked at him and nickered, and then the man turned and went back to the horse and stayed with him until he died.  Bill Posey was his name.  I have never seen Bill Posey since I was captured but was told that he got into trouble of some kind after the war was ended and that he was killed in resisting arrest.  I do not know that it was true but I do know that he was a fine soldier and a good comrade and if he did wrong it was not without cause of some kind.

 

Bill was in a barber shop for a shave when the Yanks fired into the stable, had lather on his face and was partly shaved when he went into the fight and he went into the fight half shaved and face lathered. 

 

Smith Kellum was in that fight who had a Negro man along to wait on him.  Negro Bill was his name.  Smith had several horses but did not have time to get them all and Bill happened to be out of the way and our hurried departure caused us to leave Bill and the horses.  We supposed Bill would take his freedom and Smith’s horses. The Yanks insisted on Bill going with them but he claimed the horses as his own and the next morning he joined us with the horses.

 

The Yanks had a considerable force and had started on a raid to Jackson but our fight with them caused them to burn and plunder such supplies as they could not carry away and by daylight the next morning they started on a forced march for the river and the boats from which they had been landed.  We were told that Captain Oysterhouse, who commanded a company of Federal scouts had when he learned from some citizen that Cobb’s Scouts were in town, had gotten permission to lead the attack.  The result was not what he expected as they had intended capturing the whole Texas Scouts.

 

The next morning we started after the Yankees.  We had moved back from town four or five miles to a plantation where we could secure food for our stock and rations for our men.  My wound had been dressed by a doctor near town and while the wound was quite painful, I was anxious to go with the scouts after the Yankees again but the Captain said “No,” that I must not travel, but I talked to Lieutenant Sparks who was a great friend to me and he said that he would secure the captain’s permission for me to follow along with the company. 

 

I kept my place in the ranks all day long and we were right after the Yanks but did not overtake them.  They made more than forty miles that day.  We had claimed that a brigade of Confederates were near so the Yanks were in a hurry to get back to their boats which had gone down the river. 

 

It was several days after that before I felt able to move about much and when able, I went to Raymond where I stayed until the Tennessee campaign under General Hood began.  We were then ordered to join the Texas Brigade commanded by General Sul Ross.  We joined the army at Florence, Tennessee.

 

We crossed the Tennessee River on a pontoon bridge.  The river at that time was very wide.  The pontoon bridge is made by the use of large skiffs or boats that are handled on wagons with the army.  Cables are stretched across the stream and the boats are fastened to the cables in such position that sills for the floor of the bridge can be laid and held in place on the boats.  After the sills are in place the floor is laid and nailed so as to allow the passage of the army, wagons and artillery, and everything connected with the army.  Then the boats are again loaded on wagons and the army is again on the march.  Boats were used at each end of the sills and while the bridge is in motion all the time it is still reasonably safe.

 

When we arrived at Florence the army had about all crossed the river and most of the commands were in motion in the direction of Columbia.  When we reached that place, General Forrest had opened the fight with the cavalry on the outposts of the Yankee position.  We had reported to General Sul Ross, and were instructed to report to General Forrest.  We found him on the skirmish line at the head of his escort.  Bullets were singing and shells bursting all around when we rode up in marching order.  Captain Cobb saluted and stated that he had orders to report to him for further instructions.  General Forrest said, “Captain, get your men back behind that hill where they will not be needlessly exposed, it’s getting warm here.” 

 

Wounded and dead were being moved back to the rear, horses were killed and crippled around us.  In fact, I heartily agreed in my mind with the general that it was quite warm and was glad to take the advice and get behind the hill as we were under fire but not taking part in the firing and that is a very uncomfortable position, as any man who has ever been under fire will tell you.  We were then ordered to move back to the regular camp for the night.

The next morning our company and Captain Jackson’s company of General Forrest’s escort were sent toward Shelbyville for the purpose of cutting the railroad between Chattanooga and Murfreesboro and to create the impression that Forrest’s whole command would be, or was moving, in that direction.  Before we reached Shelbyville we had to cross the Duck River. 

 

On our road before reaching the river the Yanks had a strong picket guard.  Jackson’s men who lived near there knew some sixteen or eighteen men in all.  Eight men from each of the companies with a lieutenant in charge of each squad were sent to surprise and capture this squad of pickets if possible.  We were led by Jackson’s men so as to strike the road a short way from the river where there was another guard and so as to avoid the river guard.  After striking the road between the two, the men we were to surprise were some two miles from the river and were expecting to see the advance of the Confederates from the southwest.  We captured several prisoners between the picket posts and when we rode into view of the outpost from the north, they did not think that we were rebels.  We were then about one half mile from them. 

 

They mounted the whole picket force and seemed ready for fight.  We then made a dash for them and when near enough we began firing.  They did not fire until we opened fire on them thinking we were a squad of Union men from town.  Our quick charge with the firing and yelling seemed to demoralize them.  Some dismounted and ran into a large barn; some ran into the yard and across fences trying to get to the woods.  They fired but few shots at us as we jumped our horses over the fences and captured all except two who did not dismount and got away by running. 

 

In this fight I captured two prisoners; one of them I shot at to make him stop but I did not try to kill him.  I think I fired twice or possible three shots at him.  I could have killed him, but the shooting by others seemed to frighten him and cause him to run again; after I would stop him by my shots.  After I had captured him and had him well in hand, I saw another soldier running toward a wooded pasture some two hundred yards away.  There was a high staked and ridered fence between he and I, and I told my prisoner to stand where he was and to come to me when I called him. 

 

I then ran my horse across the field to the fence near where the other Yank was still running and covered him with my pistol and called him to halt and surrender.  He halted and I told him to come to me and called my other prisoner to come also which he did.  I had my last prisoner to throw down the fence and I then kept them running back to the main road where the fight had begun and got them back to the other prisoners. 

 

I had in the race for the prisoners, gotten a considerable distance from my command, and we were expecting the Yanks to come to the relief of the pickets when the firing began, so of course I had to hurry my prisoners.  I ordered them to trot and move out fast.  The first prisoner had already run across the field and was tired out and when I told him to run he said, “I can’t run anymore, I can hardly move.” 

 

I brought my pistol to bear on him and said, “Well, if you can’t run I will have to shoot you as I am in a hurry and can’t leave you here alive.”  He, panting as he ran, then said, “I will try and run a little longer,” and he made good time too.

 

After getting to the other prisoners and the command and while we and the prisoners were laughing and talking over the incidents of the fight, this prisoner said to me, “Did you really intend to kill me when you pointed your pistol at me as you did and told me to run?”

 

“No,” I said, “I had no intention of harming you but was anxious for you to make good time.”

 

“Well,” he said, “You made me believe you would kill me though I did not think that I could run another step.”

 

By the time we had gathered our prisoners and the stock together, the main companies had come up and we then went into camp.

 

Shortly after midnight we were up and ready for a start so as to reach Shelbyville just at daylight.  We had to ford a river in the dark at a place where there was deep water below and above the ford so we had to be careful and silent.  It was the intention to go into town with the pickets.  We had orders to be ready when the pickets challenged, and to rush them and follow them into the town. 

 

When we reached town the Yanks were in force.  We only had two companies, not over two hundred men in all, and we found more than a thousand soldiers in position and ready when we went into town yelling and firing in a regular charge.  We were more than surprised and were halted under a galling fire and were driven out. 

 

Captain Jackson was wounded early in the fight and his men became confused.  Captain Cobb then took command and ordered Lieutenant Sparks, of our company, to take twenty men and advance and clear a way for the main force.  We could not make our way through the square as we had intended, but took a side street and pushed our way under heavy fire of the Yanks and then started for the railroad.  We had our prisoners and were continually capturing others.  We claimed that Forrest’s whole cavalry force was coming after us and we pushed on intending to cut the telegraph wires and tear up the railroad. 

 

We had gone two or three miles on our way when up came the Yanks behind us and poured in a heavy volley on us, and they kept it up nearly all the morning in much stronger force than ours.  They would send companies of men on our flanks and rush our rear and would take up positions where they could command the roads, which we had to pass, and harass us, calling on us to surrender. 

 

We finally trapped them into making a charge on us under the impression that we were breaking our line and were completely routed.  The captain had us to leave our positions in the line where we were stationed and fighting, and rush over a hill that hid us from the Yanks.  This we did, a few of us at a time, and once behind the hill we reformed and were ready for a charge back.  The Yanks came after us in haste believing we were in utter confusion so they were not in the best of order when they reached the line we had left and to their surprise we charged back into their midst yelling and fighting at close range, with pistols. 

 

We emptied many saddles, killing and wounding many.  This put a stop to their further pursuit but they had been able to prevent our accomplishing any serious hurt to the telegraph and railroad lines and we were glad to be able to even make our escape from them if indeed we could yet do so. 

 

During the evening after we had as we thought escaped from all the Yanks, we struck the road leading from Murfreesboro to Shelbyville, and had traveled only a short distance on this road when, in going around a bend, we came suddenly face to face with the Yanks.  I was riding in the advance guard.  We called on the Yanks to surrender and they called on us to surrender.  We followed our demand by a rush for them and opened fire on them killing several.  We had only pistols and the Yanks had Spencer Carbines (seven shots.) 

 

One of our men, Ben Eustice by name, after snapping his pistol at a Yank who was trying to shoot back as he ran, threw his pistol and struck the Yank on the head and before he could recover, drew another pistol and shot and killed the Yank dead.  Several others then surrendered to Ben.

 

Lieutenant White, Ben Barton and myself were following the other Yanks and some others of our boys were behind us and coming, but not very fast.  The Yanks, seeing there were only three of us, turned and as there was a lane more narrow than where we were and near where the road made an abrupt turn, White and Barton were where they could dodge behind the fence from the Yanks.  I being further back could not get any shelter from the fence and something had to done and done quickly. 

 

To run back around the turn would expose me for fifty or sixty yards so I jerked off my hat and motioned back as though I saw the boys coming and yelled, “Come on boys!  Here they are,” and I put spurs to my horse and dashed after them.

 

The trick worked and they started again with White and I after them.  Barton did not follow as he said his pistol was empty.  White and I kept after them shooting and yelling.  One of the Yanks was riding a mule.  White and I were riding side by side.  I aimed and fired my pistol and saw the dust fly from the back of the blouse worn by the Yank and he reeled and seemed to be falling. 

 

White said, “You got him,” and just then Lieutenant White said, “Stop.”  I looked back and he was off his horse and stooped and picked up his pistol in his left hand and I saw that his right arm was broken. The Yanks then turned on us as White mounted and we started back before the Yanks. 

 

In a short time some of our command came up and Lieutenant Sparks with them but the Yanks were reinforcing rapidly.  Lieutenant Sparks called to me and said, “Form the men here and fight the Yanks back until I can bring up some more men and, if necessary, fall back but fight them back if you can.”

 

I formed the men as they came up, though the firing was heavy and very hot from the Yanks.  One of our men had his horse killed under him at my side.  We were then near a house and a woman from the house called to us that she had a horse in the stable in the yard and for us to take him.  I told the man to unsaddle his horse and saddle the other one and this was quickly done, the enemy firing on us all the time. 

 

Just then a message came from the captain saying to get out rapidly on a road leading to Duck River and the messenger said that we had gotten between two regiments of the Yankees and that we were fighting a brigade and that we would soon be surrounded and for us to get out the best way we could.  The command was already in rapid motion for a ford a few miles away and on a race to beat the enemy to it.  We were some thirty miles inside the Union lines and that distance from our army with a brigade of the enemy after us. 

 

It was Vance whose horse had been shot and when he was mounted on the horse which the woman had given him, we thanked her and rode rapidly away, the Yankees following slowly.  We rode at a fast gallop and overtook the command before reaching the river. 

 

When we rode up to the command, I was ordered to the front with the advance guard.  The captain told me to ride in the front rank and when the river was reached to ride in, swim across and take positions to protect the crossing.  This, in company with the advance guard, was done and in safely. 

 

When we were across the river it was nearly night and the command moved out two or three miles from the crossing and went into camp after one of the most exciting days that I have ever witnessed.  When camp was reached we had to go into the cornfields for feed for our horses and corn to parch in the ashes for our own use, as we had eaten neither breakfast nor dinner.

 

We had captured a Mulatto Negro soldier and the captain decided to make a body servant of him and had him to look after his horses and serve him generally.  When I was ready to go for corn for my horse, Captain Cobb said, “Take my nigger along and let him gather corn for your horse and also for my two horses.”

 

I took him and we went into the field but all the corn had been gathered there by the others of our men, so I had to go to another field which caused me to be late.  The Negro kept trying to get near me and I warned him that I would shoot him if he did not keep away from me.  After getting into the other field of corn, it was nearly dark and I told the Negro to take two rows of corn ahead of me and pull and pile the corn in the middle of the rows.  Here he again tried to get near me and I suspected that he would attempt to get my pistol if he got hold of me at all, so I again warned him that I would shoot him if he came near. 

 

We had about all the corn pulled that we needed, so I told him to get the blankets and put the corn on them.  I kept on pulling corn for a moment and when I looked around for the Negro I could not see him.  He had slipped away in the dark while my head was turned.  I have never seen that Negro since.  He went to stay and I could never tell when or how he went, but in the going he carried a fine Indian blanket that belonged to the Captain Cobb, a great loss to a soldier as it was so closely woven that it would hold water and was a great value.  I picked up what corn I could carry and started back in the dark for the camp some half mile away. 

 

When I reached the grove where the campfires were burning when I left, the fires were all out and it was very dark.  I called and a soldier came to me on his horse saying, “Keep quiet, the Yanks are near.”

 

After a long search I found my horse, saddled and mounted him and rode with the soldier to our company which was drawn up in line ready for the fight that we expected to begin at any minute.  After waiting for a long time and not hearing anything more of the Yanks, it was decided that they had passed and were gone for good.  We then rode off a mile or so from the former camp and into the woods and lay down holding our bridles ready to mount at the first alarm.  Thus passed the night, without rest or sleep, and without any food. 

 

When day light came we moved out and went to a farm house and fed the stock and secured food for ourselves and by that time we were ready for it.  Scouting parties had been sent out and no Yanks were found near.  We still had our prisoners and quite a number of them too, so it was decided to ride for the main army, then between Spring Hill and Franklin.  We reached the army and turned our prisoners in. 

 

Our command then went into position on the right flank of the Confederate position at Franklin where we remained during that fight.  What transpired there has already been related in the account of campaign at Franklin and Nashville. 

 

From Franklin we went to Nashville and from there took part in General Forrest’s campaign against Murfreesboro, acting as scouts for General Forrest.  We went ahead of the army and to the right flank of the forces under General Forrest.  We came to the railroad at Belle Buckle, Tennessee, and cut the railroad and telegraph lines and then moved in the direction of Murfreesboro, going entirely around the city. 

 

We captured many prisoners which we found and surprised.  At one place we found a guard of about twenty men and just ready for breakfast.  We captured most of them and secured their breakfast with real coffee, the first that we had tasted for a long time. 

 

We then got back to the railroad and maneuvered around a blockhouse at a bridge on this railroad.  We tried to make the officer in charge surrender but he refused and while we were still attempting to get possession, our pickets reported a company of Federal cavalry coming after us.  We were between the blockhouse and the cavalry and made haste to get after the cavalry, which we whipped and drove away.

 

We then moved on our way intending to strike the main army and report our operations to General Forrest.  After going into camp, part of our company scouting under Lieutenant Smith struck the same company of Federal cavalry and again defeated them.

 

The next day we reported to General Forrest, again on the skirmish line in the beginning of his attack on Murfreesboro.  We were again sent to watch the railroad to the south of Murfreesboro and toward Chattanooga.  While warming at a fire built under an old horse gin house where we were sheltered from the snow on a very cold day, the Yanks surprised us and attacked our pickets and ran them in and were right on us before we heard them firing, but we soon repulsed the attack and came near making a capture of them, but they succeeded in getting by our flanks and escaped. 

 

We had many exciting experiences here.  The Yanks ran out trains loaded with soldiers and repaired the roads where we had cut them.  We were not strong enough to do more than harass them.  Finally, General Ross attacked them with his brigade of cavalry and captured part of the force and train.  Fighting occurred very often between scouting parties along the railroad. 

 

After the attack on the town had failed, we were more quiet and I started on a visit to my Father’s command at Nashville and reached there on the night of the fifteenth of December, the first day of the battle of Nashville and found my father wounded and in an old box car where some forty or fifty other wounded men were piled in like sardines in a box.  I had not seen him for more than two years and found him scarcely able to talk at all and I was worn out, having been in the saddle almost continuously day and night for eight or ten days. 

 

When I reached the place and walked into the car and asked the steward if Captain Davenport was there, my father recognized my voice and raised up on his cot.  He had been shot in the mouth, the ball driving some of his teeth into his tongue.  The ball entered through the upper lips on one side and out on the opposite side of his face,4 and several of the teeth were still in his tongue but we did not know this at the time.  They remained in the tongue until Father got back to either Alabama or Georgia, and into the hospital there.

 

After I had left him, his suffering was intense.  I suppose it was because the surgeons on the field during the battle had not had the time or the opportunity to examine his wound as it should have been.  When I reached him, he tried to talk to me and I could not understand what he said.  I looked at him and held his hand and wept.  I then talked to him of home and told him all of the news of home that I had.  I also told him to rest and sleep.  His wound was bleeding and his clothes were covered with blood. 

 

The battle was still on, cannon were roaring, rifle volleys still ringing.  Oh, the horror of it all and at that hour!

 

I talked until I slept, worn out.  Father motioned to me to try and get sleep.  This I did after caring for my horse.  The nurse promised me that in case we had to move, that he would wake me. 

 

In the night I was called – orders were given to prepare to move the wounded.  They were placed in ambulances but without food.  All of us were then ready for the move but were kept waiting until after daylight.  I went in search of food for Father and called at a cabin and told the people of my Father’s condition and asked for coffee and milk.  Father Ryan, a Catholic priest, was in the cabin and he came to me and said, “I will get you food for him,’ and he secured the coffee and milk.  He was loved by the men, and I found that he was always ready to aid the sick and wounded or aid where suffering was found.  Never did I feel more grateful to any man than to him for the food that was given.  Father Ryan was a loyal priest, a patriot and poet, and above all he was a Christian gentleman, true to his God, his country and his church.

 

After I procured food for Father, we were later started on the move to another part of the field.  We found great confusion and the confusion seemed to be increasing.  We would move a few hundred yards and would then be halted, then turned back, halted and then started in another direction.  Presently there would dash past us a regiment of cavalry, heavy firing close at hand, both artillery and rifle fire.  This kept up and the confusion seemed to be increasing every minute and the firing became nearer and heavier. 

 

I then went to the surgeon who was in charge of the ambulances and asked him to allow me to put my father on my horse and take him back to the hospital at Franklin.  He consented and gave me the necessary written authority to do so.  I then started with him, leading my horse and walking.  The account of this journey of the trip to Franklin and until we were safe at Tuscumbia, Alabama, is given elsewhere in these pages.

 

The hardships of this campaign cannot be fully described.  It seems providential that I should have been permitted to get to my Father when I did.  I think that by so doing I saved his life.  I know it saved him from capture by the Federals and imprisonment until the close of the war.  He could not have escaped if I had not arrived when I did.  He rode my horse into Alabama. 

 

I was unused to walking and wore heavy cavalry boots and on the retreat I would give out.  My feet were so sore that I could scarcely walk at all.  I and uncle, J.A. Davenport, walked together and I would say to him, “Uncle, I can’t go any further,” but when I looked at Father and others who were wounded and moving along I would still try to go on too.  Uncle would encourage me too.  He was wounded and I was not entirely well of my own wound, but I was more able to care for them so I had to suffer and go on and try to be cheerful on their account. 

 

At one time before we crossed the Duck River, I was halted by a guard at the bridge.  General Cheaton was standing near by and when he looked at Father and Uncle he said to the guard, “Let these men pass,” and told me to go on with those wounded men. 

 

Again at the bridge at the Tennessee River I was halted.  I then had two other men in charge.  The general in charge after looking at the wounded men and asking a few questions said “Pass on over with your wounded.” 

 

***************************************************************

 

Many of the incidents are only partially related.  Others not even mentioned as they were not remembered in their order.  One fight in which the brigade commanded by General Ross and General Armstrong’s brigade, were engaged, in which our company took part but did not fire, being held in reserve, I have not mentioned and cannot recall the name of the town.  The enemy was driven out after a few hours fighting, mostly with artillery.

 

Memory after fifty-four years does not serve us well.  Many incidents seem as yesterday, others like a dream, so if errors are made in names, dates, no wonder.  I am writing these pages because I feel that I owe it to my children and grandchildren.  This feeling of obligation to them was brought about by the letter of my grandson, Orrin L. Smith, who requested me to do the writing and caused me to undertake the same.  It is imperfectly done, yet I hope it will prove of sufficient interest to them that they may read and see from my viewpoint, the motives prompting our actions in those days. 

 

We fought, suffered, bled and many died, not for glory or ambition, but for love of country, for a flag that can never be forgotten while this nation stands.  That flag represented a cause that was lost, and I rejoice now that it was lost for the sake of our common country; but to my children and grandchildren, I wish to impress upon your minds that no flag was ever followed by purer patriots or braver soldiers.  No dishonor has or can attach to those who, for four long years of war, upheld the Stars and Bars and battled for the life of the nation; that for those years gave the blood of lives and substance of men as pure and brave as the world has ever known, to the cause that flag represented.

 

Never be ashamed of the fact that your Father was a soldier of the Confederate States in the war, for the time will come during the life of this nation when the people of the North and South will honor the men who fought on both sides, as heroes and patriots.  That flag for four years floated over fields of glory, upheld by heroes and patriots.  It knew defeat, but not dishonor.  No nation has ever produced better soldiers or more able generals. 

 

We fought without expectation of gain; all we asked was to be let alone and allowed to follow the dictates of our conscience.  We defended our homes and, as we thought, our rights.  When we failed, we then went to work to restore as best we could the losses which we had suffered.  Some of us went from prison, some from fields of battle, and we went to homes in ruins.  We were without money and almost without food and clothes.  Our stock had been taken, our fences thrown down, our homes burned.  This was the situation in the Southern states.  Texas had escaped most of these evils and misfortunes.

 

Then followed the days of Reconstruction when we were placed under military rule.  Northern soldiers filled our towns and country,.  Many disturbances followed.  Conflicts often occurred but in the end, wise counsel prevailed.  Moderation and a conservative attitude toward the citizens finally brought about peace and quiet in our southland. 

 

Most of the men who fought in this war have passed to their rewards and in a few years, we too, will be gone, but this nation will honor the names of those who fought under the flag of the south.  I have seen many changes in the sentiment of the people of the north.  They have learned more about our motives and our views as to our obligations to our states and country in that war.  We have proved to them that we love our country, that patriotism is as strong with us as with the people of the north.  We are as ready to defend our country as they.  In other words, no longer is there any feeling other than that of love for our common country.

 

To you, my children, let love of country and devotion to her interests be the rule of your lives.

 

 

W.G. Davenport

Tularosa, New Mexico

January 16, 1915