The Old Confederate's Story, by Robert C. Carden

Published: The Independent [newspaper], Boone, Iowa, Apr 5-Aug 12 1912

Note: Served in the CSA, Co. B, 16th Tennessee Infantry

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              The Independent - A Newspaper Without A Muzzle
                Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, April 5, 1912

                          The Old Confederate's
                                  Story
          Three Years, Seven Months and Twenty-seven Days in the
             C.S.A. in the War Between the States. How a Boy
                Of Seventeen Went to War, What He Saw and
                Some of His Experiences. Written Espress-
                        ly for The Independent by
                     R. C. CARDEN, Manchester, Tenn.

In 1861, when the war clouds obscured the sky I was a boy of 17, living in 
Tennessee. In common with all the boys of my age, whether living north or 
south I had the military spirit and at the first opportunity placed my 
name upon the rolls as a soldier, volunteering to fight for my native 
state. 

On the 21st day of May, 1861, I enlisted in company B, 16th Tennessee 
Infantry, under Col. Jno. H. Savage, and was sent to Estil Springs, on the 
N. C. & St. L. railroad, where we stayed a few days, and then went to Camp 
Trousdale, north of Nashville on the Louisville & Nashville railroad, near 
the Kentucky line. We stayed there until there were enough Tennessee 
companies to form a regiment, when John H. Savage was elected Colonel and 
we were detailed for guard duty while there and had a very easy time until 
the measles broke out in our camp and several died. I took the measles and 
came very near dying. I was given a furlough and came home and stayed 
until I was able to join my regiment which in the meantime had been sent 
to West Virginia. Myself and brother James A. Carden, who was home on 
furlough started to our command sometime in the summer of 1861 and finally 
found our regiment, which was stationed on Cheat Mountain, near the Ohio 
line. 

Our army had had a fight with Gen. Rosecrans' forces just before we 
arrived there. We stayed there but a short time when we were ordered to 
Pocataligo, S. C., where we went by way of Lynchburg and Petersburg, Va., 
Wilmington, N. C., Charleston, S. C., to our destination. We landed there 
early in the spring of 1862 and did camp duty there. Two companies were 
sent out to Gardner's Corners, eight miles from where our command was 
camped and a detail was sent out from Gardner's Corners to Port Royal. 
Every day we did picket duty as the Yankees were in force on Buford's 
Island. Right there was where I saw my first Yankees. We could see them 
walking around while we were on picket. When we were out we would gather 
oysters and lived high with plenty of oysters, sweet potatoes. We, being 
green and not knowing when the Yankees might run over on us, would get 
awfully scared sometimes at night, when we heard the porpoise splashing in 
the water, and we were sure the Yankees were coming and we would get ready 
to receive them, but they never came. 

Immediately after the battle of Shiloh we got orders to hasten there and 
landed there a short time after the battle. Bragg's army was then at 
Corinth, Miss. Our army fell back to Tupelo, Miss. And there I was taken 
sick and left in the hospital and the command went on to Chattanooga, 
Tenn. When I got able to travel I started after them. I had no 
transportation, no rations and not a cent of money and about a thousand 
miles to travel. Well, the first thing that happened to me after getting 
aboard the train was when the conductor asked me for my fare. I told about 
my being in the hospital and being left there but it did not suffice and 
he told me I would have to get off at the next station and I guess he 
would have landed me, but there was a big Confederate soldier on the train 
who said he would not put me off and if he fooled around me any more he 
would throw him through the window and I was not molested after that. 

At Mobile, Ala., I ran across a soldier who had all the necessary papers 
for transportation, rations, etc, and I took them up to the room at the 
hotel and drew me off a set just like them. We went down to the landing 
and got aboard the boat and the captain said he was going to drop down the 
river to the commissary and that all who had the necessary papers could 
draw rations. Myself and partner, having papers, felt first rate. When we 
landed at the commissary, my partner told me to take his haversack along 
as it would not be necessary for both to go. I did as requested and on 
passing in there was a big fat fellow sitting in a chair, too lazy to 
stand up I guess, and he told me to go in, get some hard tack and meat and 
when I came out he would weigh them but he never done it, for when I 
filled one haversack with hard tack and put a ham in the other I slid out 
of the back door and went to the boat. My partner and I went clear up on 
top and located our quarters under a boat that was turned bottom up and 
there we stayed and slept every night until we arrived at Montgomery, Ala. 
Which is 450 miles. After the boat started I think I ate but one meal with 
my partner. When the bell rang I would go down below, walk into the dining 
room, hang up my hat and sit down at the table. None of the officers or 
waiters took any notice of me and I had a fine time. My partner told me 
they would get after me, but I said if they did I would quit. It took us 
four days to make the trip and when I got to Montgomery I boarded the 
train and went to Atlanta, Ga. 

In Atlanta I went into a saloon thinking that something might turn up that 
I might put myself on the outside of some of Paddy's eyewater. I did not 
have a red cent or any other kind of currency, but had some hope. I always 
had that, and while standing around seeing others drinking I looked down 
on the floor and saw a $3.00 bill, state bank money. Any kind of money was 
good those balmy days, so I stepped up to the counter and called for some 
of the article itself, and while my three dollars lasted I was in the 
swim. 

I went from there to my command at Chattanooga and was awfully glad to see 
the boys. We stayed there some time planning where we could locate some 
Yankees to give them another threshing when we concluded to light out for 
Kentucky. We crossed the Tennessee river at Chattanooga, then across the 
mountains to Sparta, Tenn. In crossing the Cumberland mountains we had 
orders to fill our canteens with water as we could not get any until we 
got over on the other side. We marched over in the night and never saw a 
drop of water until we landed near Sparta, all tired and completely 
exhausted. 

I remember that we laid over one [missing] there and I got to thinking I 
would like to have some good old Tennessee applejack, and a comrade named 
Smartt and I started out to see if we could find just a bit of it. We 
would inquire of the natives and went to several distilleries and finally 
after going about eight miles we found it. We had two Yankee canteens 
apiece and had them filled and you never saw two happier fellows than we 
were when we started back to camp. We met some of Gen. Bragg's escort and 
the captain of the squad asked us if we had any liquor, and Smartt, fool-
like, said we had some of the best apple brandy he ever saw, and right 
there is where Smartt made the mistake of his life for the captain said, 
"Well, boys, you'll have to pour it out." That remark nearly broke my 
heart for I knew the jig was up, so we commenced to empty our canteens. As 
I emptied mine I stepped back through the soldiers, spilling the contents 
of one of mine on the ground. The other was under my coat and I saved that 
from devastation. Smartt got rid of all that he had. The captain then said 
if we would go back with him where we got it we should have our money 
back, so Smartt went back with them and I stayed where we emptied our 
canteens. One of the cavalrymen asked me if I did not have some left. I 
told him to hush for if the captain should find it out it would be Katy 
with me so he went with the rest of the crowd. 

When Smartt got back we put ourselves in shape not to pour any of the rest 
on the ground and when we got back to camp about sundown Smartt was 
cutting up so the Colonel was about to put him under guard but he did not 
and neither of us was punished for our trip. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, April 12, 1912

We remained in camp for a few days and then marched in a northerly 
direction, passing through the country where several companies of our 
regiment were raised and we could see women and children on the roads to 
greet their loved ones as we marched along. We arrived at Gainsboro, on 
the Cumberland river and stopped for a rest. A lot of us went down to the 
river to go in bathing, and I remember a circumstance that occurred while 
we were in the river. Some of our teamsters came down to water their mules 
and one of our boys asked permission of one of the teamsters to lead one 
of the mules into the water. There were several in the water at the time 
and the mule soon got into deep water and if there ever was a circus that 
mule certainly made one. It was but a little while till everybody was out 
on the bank and the soldier and the mule had the whole river to 
themselves. The soldier finally got away from the mule and we thought sure 
the animal would drown. Sometimes his head would come to the surface, then 
the other end would show up, then his feet were up, then he would 
disappear altogether, but he finally quit his capers, stuck his nose out 
of the water, circled around a little and came ashore. 

After resting up a few days we started northward toward Kentucky. We 
passed several towns, that I do not remember much about, after fifty 
years, but I remember that we passed through Bardstown. We also went out 
of our way to a place named Munfordsville where about 4,500 Yankees had 
repulsed some of our cavalry but when they found they had Bragg's army 
before them they surrendered. 

I never saw any of them but I remember the night before the surrender we 
were lying down in the road and by the side of it, when a wagon or 
artillery got up a big hub-bub and if there ever was a scared lot of tired 
out Rebels it was us. Everyone was asleep, I suppose, and such running and 
scrambling I never saw. I remember that I was so scared that I left my gun 
lying in the road and everybody seemed to be hunting a tree to get behind. 
I think a Yankee corporal's guard could have captured the whole outfit. I 
understood at the time that the panic ran through the whole army. I was in 
another panic in Georgia and it was on the same order. Everybody was 
scared almost to death and it started in the same way. 

From here we continued our march until we arrived at Perryville, Kentucky. 
The battle of Perryville was fought on the 8th day of October, 1863. Gen. 
Bragg said in his report of the battle that his forces did not exceed 40,
000, all told, and that Gen. Buell had about two to one. Bragg says: "We 
captured, wounded and killed not less than 25,000 of the enemy, took over 
thirty cannon, 17,000 small arms, some 2,000,000 cartridges for the same, 
destroyed over a hundred wagons and brought out of Kentucky more than a 
hundred more with mules and harness complete, replaced our horses by a 
fine mount and lived two months on rations captured from the enemy, and 
secured material to clothe the army." 

I remember we went into the battle close to a small creek. We had just got 
to the top of a small hill when we saw the enemy rise to their feet and 
then business began, and things were hot for a time. There was a battery 
on our left that was giving us grape and canister and the bullets were 
singing around us. A man was standing just in front of me while I was 
loading my gun and I happened to have my eyes on him just as a canister 
struck him in the breast and I saw the white flesh before it bled. He was 
a dead man. 

Col. John H. Savage, in his report of the engagement said that our 
regiment, the 16th Tennessee, killed the Yankee general Jackson. The 
Yankee general was one of the bravest men that ever went into battle. Some 
of my company was close by him when he was killed. They said that he was 
standing on some part of a cannon with his hat in his hand, urging his men 
to put it to us. Our men demanded his surrender but he would not notice a 
word they said and in the conflict some one shot him dead. 

After giving the Yankees a good thrashing we started to hunt some more to 
whip. We had full possession of the battlefield but our rations being 
about out we started for Cumberland Gap. On this retreat I suffered more 
with hunger than I ever did during the war. I remember one day on that 
march myself and a comrade were sitting down by the road to rest when our 
Assistant Surgeon came riding by and I asked him if he could give a fellow 
a bite of something to eat. He reached down in his haversack and gave me a 
biscuit which I divided with my comrade, and I think to this day how good 
that biscuit tasted. We had a hard time on this trip as the Yankees had 
been over this road on their way to Cumberland Gap, and where they had 
been there wasn't much left for us. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, April 19, 1912 

From Cumberland Gap we went to the railroad above Knoxville and took the 
cars to Tullahoma and went into camp where we stayed for some time. I was 
then within 14 miles of home and I visited home quite often. Our adjutant 
liked a drink of applejack quite well and as there was a still near my 
home I would get a pass frequently. I suppose our Colonel did not know 
anything about it, so I would run up home, visit the folks and lay in a 
jug of brandy. 

I remember on one occasion while we were camped there one of our company 
had been out about five miles to visit his people and a night or so later 
four or five of us went out to where this fellow reported that his brother-
in-law, a preacher at that, had a lot of liquor on hand and was selling 
it. As we did not want to buy any, one of the crowd acted as officer, and 
he told the preacher we wanted some liquor, and as he said he had some the 
officer told him we would have to take him to camp together with what 
liquor he had. If you ever heard any begging that preacher did it. As we 
didn't want the preacher some of us told the officer that if he would 
promise not to sell any more we would let him off but we would be 
compelled to take what liquor he had, which we did, and let him go. 

As quick as we got started we commenced to store it away and when we got 
back to camp we were a lively set. It was a cold frosty night and the 
first thing I did after getting to camp was to try to catch a dog. We had 
an old fellow in our company who had a little wooly dog. I had a big fish 
hook and baited it with a piece of meat and proceeded to catch the dog. He 
did not take hold of it for some time and while I was lying down on my 
stomach expecting him to bite one of our crowd became boisterous down on 
the company grounds and an officer was about to put him in the guard 
house. One of the boys started down there to help him out of the 
difficulty and I heard him go kersplash into one of the wells we had dug. 
I was so tickled that I knew the old fellow who owned the dog would hear 
me laughing so I jumped up to run just as the dog got the bait in his 
mouth and I dragged him a little distance when the fish hook tore loose 
and the dog got away. But Charlie Lance got an awful cold bath just the 
same. 

We stayed at Tullahoma for some time until we heard of Rosencran's and a 
lot of Yankees at Nashville, and as we had whipped Buell at Perryville, we 
hiked off down to Murfreesboro, passing through Manchester, my home town, 
so I got permission (I suppose) and went out two miles to see my mother 
and stayed all night at home, and was back to my command by daylight the 
next morning. 

It took us two days to march to Murfreesboro and we stayed there some time 
until Rosecrans came out from Nashville to see what we were doing. 

We marched out four or five miles on the Nashville road and formed in line 
of battle and the first thing Mr. Rosecrans knew we were onto him. Our 
forces put it to him hard and heavy, driving back his right back some 
distance but we could not move them back but a little where the river 
turns north from the pike and railroad, so we started south toward 
Chattanooga to see if we could find some Yankees to whip. 

Before going any further with our move I will tell you about our regiment 
being sent down toward Nashville before the battle to see what was going 
on. We marched down about Lavergne, half way between Murfreesboro and 
Nashville and on passing a house about sixty rods from the pike we saw a 
bunch of our men down there, so myself and Mose Messick went down there to 
see what was going on. We saw a citizen selling apples to the boys out of 
a window. He was selling them for 50 cents a dozen. Neither Mose or myself 
had a cent and I thought it was no go for us, but Mose, after standing 
there for some time said: "Look here, ain't you going to give me my change 
back at all?" and the man said he didn't know he owed him any change and 
Mose proved by me that he had given him $5 and he was tired of standing 
there so long. The man forked over $4.50 and we went out to the pike. Mose 
gave me a part of the money and I went back and bought what apples we 
wanted. 

After the battle I went over the field and saw where our forces had 
captured a battery and there were more dead men to 40 or 50 yards square 
than I ever saw during the whole war. Most of them were Yankees and I 
think from the way things looked that the Yankees used their guns until 
most of them were killed right on the spot. I noticed also that they had 
cut their horses throats. They were lying around there men and horses 
together. 

We started on the retreat and went to Shelbyville via Murfreesboro and 
camped there quite a while. Rosecrans did not follow us up and I guess 
both sides got a plenty. 

From there we marched to Tullahoma and remained there until in the summer 
time. While there we threw up breastworks and cleared Bragg's "new ground" 
on the west and north of town. The clearing was something like a fourth of 
a mile wide and went by the name of Bragg's New Ground for years. We did 
not get to plant it as Rosecrans flanked us and we had to hike for 
Chattanooga. 

On this march I remember I found some apples about the size of a quail's 
egg, under an apple tree and I ate about as many as I could hold, and that 
night we were notified that we could draw some rations but I was too tired 
and sleepy to get up. I was about petered out and had done without rations 
so long I was not hungry. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, April 26, 1912 

At Chattanooga we went into camp southeast of town and had a very good 
time there. As usual, when I didn't have any Yankees to whip I was in some 
devilment. I had a chum who was always ready for anything and when 
necessary I would write a pass, sign all the necessary officers' names to 
it and we would go to town. I had two trusty comrades, Bob Tucker and John 
Robinson. Robinson and I would go to town and he would borrow $10 of 
somebody, then we would proceed to enclose the quart. The quart cost $10. 
Then we would find where some citizen was selling it on the sly. I would 
take our canteens and go where it was kept for sale, go in and find that 
he had it, get my vessels full, sit down and have a big talk. About the 
time we got in a good way Robinson would rush in, the maddest man you ever 
saw. He would cuss and abuse me, threaten to kick me out of the house, 
etc., then he would turn to the man and tell him what he would do to me 
when he got me back to camp, and while that was going on I would quietly 
walk out with the liquor. They would talk a while (to give me time to get 
away) then Robinson would say he must go. When the man would say that I 
had not paid for the whisky, then Robinson was madder than ever. He would 
cuss and tear around and say he had given me the money to pay for it and 
he would go and bring me back. He would finally locate me out of town and 
as our business in town had been transacted we would go back to camp. 

On another occasion I took Bob Tucker. Bob had been to town the day before 
and had partly made a deal for a lot of ginger cakes and had told the 
fellow he would go back to camp and come in the next day with his partner 
and close the deal. So I fixed up our credentials and we lit out for town. 
When we got to the fellow's store, a small concern, he was very busy with 
customers and told us to walk into the back room, and he would be in soon. 
He had the cakes in sheets about the size of a door but had a lot cut up 
into regulation size. About this time we heard an awful noise in the alley 
and the door being locked I jumped up and caught the transom and held 
there to see what was the matter and while there Tucker was stuffing my 
haversack full of cakes. I held on till he filled it and then let loose 
and as he had his filled we thought while the commotion lasted we would 
walk out the door. The only thing that had happened was a white fellow had 
knocked a negro down in the alley. We returned to camp with about as many 
ginger cakes as anybody ever carried in tow haversacks. 

A few days afterwards a fellow came to camp selling pies and other things 
out of a wagon. I went up to where he was doing business and at once saw 
he was in need of a clerk, as everything was going like hot cakes. I said: 
"Mister, you don't seem to be able to wait on them all. I will help you if 
you want me to." He said, "All right," so I got up in the hind end of the 
wagon and the way I sold truck was a sight. Robinson, my partner, and 
messmate wanted a whole lot of stuff and would buy only of me. He would 
buy 75 cents worth and give me a dollar and I would give him three or four 
dollars change. Now and then when Robinson was gone I would hand over what 
money I had to the boss. But Robinson was the best customer we had. 

In the evening the fellow went to the Colonel and told him he had a load 
that ought to have brought him $250 or $300 and he only got about $50 out 
of it. I felt sorry for the fellow and never charged him a cent for 
helping him. I'm telling these things as few would know of the kind traits 
of a soldier if I did not. 

I was going down Main street in Chattanooga one day when I saw a crowd of 
soldiers gathered around a big fat fellow, a Colonel of a Tennessee 
regiment, who was full as a tick. He had a fish pole on his shoulder and 
seemed to be headed for the river. The boys were teasing him and they got 
him red hot. He would cuss them with all the cuss words he could muster up 
and he could muster a whole lot of them. He told them they would desert if 
they were not so far from home and he handed it out to them in fine style. 
One of the soldiers said, "Well, old man, go on about your fishing. I hope 
you'll catch lots of fish." He said, "I hope I won't get a d--d bite." 

While we were camped on Missionary ridge we went up the river a short 
distance where a creek run into the Tennessee river above Chattanooga and 
the first we knew a lot of Yankees opened up on us and we got away from 
there in short order. I remember while we were camped there I took a 
couple of canteens and went down to a spring to get some water. The spring 
was in a narrow gulley and I saw three Muscovy ducks about half grown so I 
spread myself out like a woman spreads her dress when she is driving a hen 
and chicks; I did that to keep them from going by me. When one came near 
enough I would grab it, pull its head off and put it in my shirt bosom. I 
served them all the same way and they cut up and flopped until the front 
of my shirt was as bloody as though a hog had been butchered in my bosom. 
But I tell you they were fine eating on an empty stomach. 

We camped around Chattanooga until the Yankees came down about the 
Chickamauga country and concluded to give us a spanking. We were not ready 
to take it so we ran together and put it to them in fine style. We were 
going to run them into Chattanooga and I guess we would have done it if it 
had not been for Thomas. We lost lots of men there and the other side lost 
heavily too. I drew one minie ball. It glanced across my cheek about half 
an inch from my right eye and the scar is there now. I don't know how many 
I killed for I had no chance to count them. I was sent to a hospital below 
there but was back again in a week. While I was in the hospital it seemed 
that the authorities tried to starve us so we would want to go back to our 
regiments. 



The Indedpedent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, May 3, 1912 

I got very hungry and one day while at Chickamauga I sauntered out to 
where some citizens were selling things that a hungry soldier likes and 
there I did one of the meanest tricks I was guilty of during the war. I 
never have felt just right about it to this good day. While I was standing 
around seeing others buying and eating I saw a woman selling half moon 
pies. She had an old horse and buggy and I walked up to her and said, 
"Madam, do you see that man walking off there?" pointing to a fellow about 
twenty steps away. She said she did and I said, "That fellow stole a lot 
of your pies." She went after him, and as soon as she started I commenced 
to pile half moon pies into my bosom. I stored away my goods and by the 
time she got through with the fellow I had business somewhere else, I went 
out behind a big pine tree and soon got outside the pies and went to my 
command. 

Soon after this I was on the battle field the first day after my return. 
The Yankee soldiers that had been killed had not been buried and it was 
about a week as I recollect after the battle. The bodies were swollen so 
one could hardly see that they were men. They were actually as large as a 
horse. That was the worst sight I saw in the war. There was another thing 
I saw the same day, that I have always felt a delicacy in telling, that 
was our forces had gathered up all the small arms that was left on the 
field, a week before, the guns of our killed and wounded and the Yankees 
too, for we were in posession of the field, and the guns were racked up 
like cord wood. I never measured how long the ricks were but feel safe in 
saying that they were seventy-five yards each. 

In the battle of Chickamauga after I was wounded I went for the rear and 
in going back a cannon ball struck a limb on a big pine tree over me, I 
heard it hit the limb and stopped a second or so when the limb fell just 
in front of me. I believe I stepped over it the next step I took after it 
fell. I have always thought this was the closest call I had in the war. 

We moved down to the railroad toward Atlanta and we had more or less 
fighting and skirmishing until we got to Atlanta. 

We had quite a hard fight at or near Resaca, Georgia. I will never forget 
the experience I had in fighting there. We were on one side of a hollow 
and the Yankees on top of the hill on the other side. The first evening we 
were there most of the fighting was an artillery duel and we hugged the 
ground closely as some of our batteries were up on the hill just behind 
us. Gen. Polk and his escort came up on the hill behind the battery and we 
could hear the minie balls strike their horses and they soon left. 

Two of my company, R. E. Garrett and James McGuire were lying down behind 
a log. A cannon ball went under the log and came out between them, 
covering them with dirt. The Yankees made it hot for us that evening as we 
did not have time to throw up works. That night we worked nearly all night 
and by morning we were fixed for them. 

Just before 'day next morning I was detailed with others to go on picket 
duty about seventy-five yards down in front of our lines. I had been sick 
all night and was really in no condition to go, but this was no time to 
falter, so I went. Right down there on the picket line I had about the 
worst time I ever experienced. Our officer scattered us along about 
seventy-five yards apart. When day began to appear the Yankees began to 
shoot at us. I discovered a big pine stump near my post and I proceeded to 
get behind it. Then I was not safe as they could see me and commenced to 
cross fire on me. I saw that it was a bad proposition so I laid on my 
stomach and with my bayonet would dig up the sand and shove it out at each 
side and push the rest down with my feet and finally got a respectable war 
grave dug, I was still very sick, suffering from diarrhoea and I was 
sleepy. The Yankees were still pegging away at me, a ball would strike the 
stump or a shell burst near me and wake me up but I would fall asleep as 
quickly as I would wake, so I laid there in the hot sun until about the 
middle of the afternoon when I saw if I staid until night there would be a 
dead Rebel and he would have his grave already dug for him so I concluded 
to attempt to run back to the breastworks, about seventy-five rods up 
hill. You can imagine how sick I was to attempt such a dangerous trip for 
I was safe from Yankee bullets behind that stump. Well, I lit out as fast 
as I could run and every Yankee in sight took a shot at me. The bullets 
would zip by me and hit the ground but I kept pulling for the shore and 
when I got to breastworks I just simply fell over them down among the boys 
and not a scratch on me. 

Soon after that the officer on picket duty was driven in and he had 18 
bullet holes through his blanket but came out with a whole hide. A 
Lieutenant-Colonel was killed just on our right. Our regiment was not 
engaged but on our right they had it hot and heavy. After dark we 
commenced to retreat and marched until we got back as far as Gen. Joe 
Johnston wanted to go, formed again, and we kept it up until we landed 
south of the Chattahoochie river, with plenty of fighting all along. 

I will tell some of the things I saw before we landed near Atlanta. While 
we were on Rocky Face Hill or Ridge, when we had nothing to do we would 
carry large rocks up on the ridge and turn them loose. The Yankee pickets 
were down on the side of the hill and the way those rocks would run and 
crash against trees was a caution. The Yankees could stand lead and cannon 
balls but the rocks were enough to break any of Sherman's lines that he 
could form. 

It was fighting and falling back all the time. I will go south of the 
Chattahoochie river where the Rebel pickets were on the south side and the 
Yankees on the north. We got very friendly there and frequently some would 
cross over and do a lot of trading. The currency was coffee on the Yankee 
side and tobacco on the Rebel side. We would trade for U. S. stamps as we 
could send mail around by Richmond and Washington to our folks back in the 
territory occupied by the Federal army. 

The way we did was to get a small flat rock, tie on a piece of tobacco and 
throw it across the river. The Yankees would wade out in the water and 
pick it up if it fell short. I was the only one on our side who could 
throw across the river and there was a red faced, red headed Yankee who 
was left handed who could throw over to our side. I remember on one 
occasion I put a piece of tobacco on a rock and threw it over saying "This 
is for the officer," and the soldier that got it took it to the officer. I 
saw him pull out a long book that he carried his papers in and handed the 
fellow five stamps. The red headed fellow threw them over to me. 

One day while I was on picket there a handsome young fellow swam over. He 
was a fine fellow and I would be awful glad to meet him again. He came 
over on a trading expedition and while he was on our side I got in 
conversation with him. I told him I had a mother back in Tennessee who had 
not heard from me in a long time and asked him if he would mail a letter 
for me. He said he would and I wrote to my mother and he took it with him. 
On the way back he was so heavily loaded that he nearly drowned. We got 
him back and one of the boys went about a quarter of a mile and got a rail 
and he then made it all right. When the war was over and I got home I 
found the letter all right. He had mailed it as he said he would. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, May 10, 1912 

After the battle of Chickamauga we fell back to Dalton and went into 
winter quarters and had a very quiet time. I remember a few things that 
happened while there. There was a wood shed and water tank and a detail 
was sent out every night to see that nothing was molested. I was a non-
commissioned officer and I took half a dozen privates and went out there 
on guard duty all night. On one occasion I remember a soldier came around 
there to wait till the train pulled in to get a jug of whisky that he had 
ordered. One of my chums and I found out that he had a bottle of whisky in 
his pocket and we wanted it. He sat around the fire for quite a while 
before he went to sleep. When he got to snoring about right I motioned to 
my chum to see if he could ease it out of pocket. He worked for quite a 
while but failed to land it so I motioned for him to get out of the way 
and let me try my hand at it. The bottle was a round one and I gave it a 
kind of a twisted pull and out it came and we went out in the dark and 
tanked up on it. 

I think it was the same night when the train had pulled in, took on wood 
and water and had pulled out again a citizen who had come in on the train 
come into the shed where the guard was and told me he had brought a half 
dozen sacks of apples and that they were up the track about fifty yards. I 
told him it would not do to let them remain there, that the soldiers who 
were camped around there would steal every one of them, and that he had 
better carry them into the shed where they would be safe. I had several of 
the guard help him carry them in and put them around the fire under the 
shed. I thought that fellow never would go to sleep but he finally dozed 
off and when he had got to sleeping about right I told one of the guards 
to get a move on him. He picked up a sack of the apples and hid them. The 
fellow never missed them, for just before day a bunch of soldiers came in 
and gobbled up the whole business, but we saved our sack and took them to 
camp when we left. 

We were at Dalton on Christmas day, 1853. We wanted to have something 
extra, so we put ourselves to thinking. One of our company, G. J. Newman, 
(Gabe, for short) drove a commissary wagon, and on Christmas day he had 
brought in a barrel of whisky, for the officers, I suppose, but Gabe let 
us into the secret, and after night Robinson took a water bucket and got 
it full and we filled our canteens and whatever we had to put it in. Just 
before day Gabe came over to our mess and said he had to go to Dalton 
after some more rations and wanted John Robinson to go with him. I was 
satisfied that when Robinson went we would have something in the way of a 
Christmas dinner that would be a hummer when Robinson filled up from a 
canteen before he left. 

When Robinson and the teamster got to the depot at Dalton Robinson went in 
and saw a box that he thought would suit him, so he carried it out and put 
it in the wagon, then went back and got a side of bacon and loaded it. 
When they arrived in camp Robinson brought the box and meat to our mess 
and when we opened the box the stuff was there sure enough. The box had 
been sent from somewhere down in Georgia to some of their folks who were 
camped around Dalton but they never received it. The contents consisted of 
sugar, pies, eggs and plenty of other good things too numerous to mention. 
We invited our company officers and some of the regimental officers to 
take dinner with us. They inquired where all the good things came from but 
they never found out. Besides having plenty of good things to eat we had 
plenty of good old fashioned egg nog. It was a Christmas long to be 
remembered. We had good times at Dalton as there were no Yankees near to 
cause us any uneasiness. 

I remember a couple of incidents at Dalton that had slipped my mind. One 
was a snow battle between some Tennessee soldiers and some Georgia troops. 
It commenced in a small way but grew to be a big battle with at least a 
brigade on each side with the officers and colors. The snow was five or 
six inches deep. There was a small branch between the combatants and 
sometimes one side, then the other would have possession of the field. 
Sometimes the Tennesseans would drive the Georgia men back, then they 
would rally and drive the other side. They used up all the snow on the 
field then each side had a detail to bring up big snow balls to be used as 
ammunition. Our Tennessee side finally charged the Georgia fellows and ran 
them back to their camp. I never got there for at the branch a Georgia 
fellow rolled up a snowball with a lot of ground with it and struck me in 
the eye, coming very near knocking my eye out, so I got knocked out and 
went back to the rear. I understood that several lost an eye in the fight. 

While in camp at Dalton Gen. Johnston issued an order giving a furlough to 
one in every twenty-five, so each officer commanding a company put all the 
names of his company in a hat and let each man draw. A soldier of my mess 
drew one and as he had no place to go in the South he gave it to me for I 
had an aunt in Northern Mississippi. I fixed up in the best clothing I had 
which was the same I wore every day, and started with a little less than a 
hundred dollars. I had to go by way of Atlanta, Montgomery, Ala, and there 
boarded a boat for Selma, Ala. From there to Meridian, Miss then down to 
Jackson, the capital. There my troubles began, for an army of Yankees had 
come out from Memphis and done the railroad up in apple pie order. They 
had burned every bridge and car except one box car on the road from 
Jackson north to Grenada, the engines had been burned, all the woodwork 
about them being gone and I had to go fifteen miles in a hack to where the 
train was to start. I put up at a hotel and stayed all night and I thought 
I had better go down and pay my bill which I did. The clerk said the 
regular price was $5.00 but that he would charge me but $4.50. My money 
was growing short. I had transportation but I could not go north until the 
next day. I went back to my room and when the bell rang I would go down 
and take a meal with them and I kept that up till I left the next 
afternoon when I crossed the river and went up to the next station. I 
don't know what I would have done if the clerk had got after me for the 
hotel bill, but he did not. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, May 17, 1912 

After we were put across the river we started on our way and got along all 
right until after we separated. I left him within about two miles of his 
destination and cut across to strike the road from his town to Holly 
Springs. I was making good headway till I looked ahead and saw a squad of 
cavalry coming my way, so I went back from the road a little distance and 
laid down until they had passed. I went on some distance when I ran right 
into a company of Rebel scouts. They never took any particular notice of 
me and I continued on my way. They had left one fellow on picket and when 
he saw me he inquired my business there and I told him I was on a furlough 
from old Joe Johnston's army, and pulled out my papers for his inspection 
and this satisfied him. 

I had no further trouble and went on. That night I stayed at the home of a 
widow and the next morning arrived at Holly Springs. 

I inquired around for my aunt and was told that she was down the railroad 
the way I had come, about twelve miles. On inquiry I found some of my 
relatives of whom I had heard but had never seen, and visited them. 

It got out around town that there was a Rebel in town from Tennessee, and 
about the second day after my arrival a man came to me and asked what part 
of Tennessee I was from. I told him and found that two of his boys were in 
my company. He told me to make his home my headquarters and to make myself 
at home. The next day another man asked me where I was from and he was 
born and raised in my country and I knew his people well. Gen. Marcus J. 
Wright's sister sent for me and I took dinner with her. I was in Gen. 
Wright's brigade. 

After spending about a week in Holly Springs and having a big time, I 
concluded to start on my way to see my aunt. I got ready and boarded the 
train. The engine was a small mule hitched to a handcar and the engineer a 
boy about ten or twelve years of age. When we got to the top of a grade 
the boy would take the mule out and we would make good time down grade 
when we would stay around until the boy and mule would catch up with us 
and hitch onto the train again and we followed that kind of travel until 
we landed at our destination. The fare for the trip was $10. 

After inquiring around I found my aunt was about seven miles out in the 
country so I started out on foot. I had not gone more than three or four 
miles when I ran up on a Rebel cavalryman. He asked what I was doing there 
and I showed him my furlough and that satisfied him. While I was walking 
along I found a currycomb, one of the kind you can buy for five cents now 
and he asked me what I would take for it. As I was broke I told him I 
would sell it for a dollar, and after a good deal of parleying he gave me 
a dollar for it. I found my aunt this time and stayed with her quite a 
while. 

I had a good time here and attended a number of dinners and parties where 
I had a fine time with the girls. 

My furlough had about expired and I began to figure on my return. My aunt 
had cooked a lot of good things to eat, and I was to start the next 
morning. Along some time in the night a neighbor came and said there was a 
lot of Yankee cavalry within two or three miles of us. While I was up in 
this north Mississippi country the pesky Yankees had run out from Memphis 
and destroyed the railroad that I had come over and instead of returning 
the same way I had to cut across the country to the Mobile & Ohio 
railroad, about fifty miles. 

I started real early and looked back often to see if the Yankees were 
coming and traveled thirty-five miles that day. I stopped over night with 
a widow lady and started out early next morning. I struck up with a lot of 
soldiers returning to the army. They had a spring wagon and I had to pay 
them $10 to get to ride with them. My aunt had given me $60 to bear my 
expenses and we finally arrived at Tupelo, Miss. And found we were cut off 
on that railroad too. 

The bunch held a consultion and decided that the only thing that could be 
done was to cut across the country in the direction of Selma, Alabama. We 
would march twenty or twenty-five miles a day and put up two at a place. I 
think there were six of us, and no one would charge us for lodging. I 
remember that another fellow and myself put up at the house of a professor 
who was running a big school and he had two nice girls. They told me if I 
would stay and go to school it would not cost me a cent. 

We went on from day to day until we struck the end of a railroad and 
camped at the depot. We cooked sweet potatoes with pine knots and we made 
up between us not to pay any fare on the train. 

Some time in the early morning we boarded the train and when the conductor 
came around I was the last one he tackled. I noticed that he made them all 
pay, so when he came to me I told him where I had been, about being cut 
off from getting out of Northern Mississippi and that I was busted. To my 
surprise he said "All Right." 

After we had got under good headway I noticed that a couple of ladies just 
opposite me were nearly tickled to death at something about me. I examined 
my clothing to see if any buttons were off or any of my clothing was 
unbuttoned and finding nothing wrong concluded as I was the laughing stock 
I would go into another coach. In passing out I looked in a mirror and 
right there I saw what tickled the ladies. I hardly knew myself for in 
cooking the potatoes with pine knots the smoke had settled all over my 
face till I looked like white people do in a negro show, white around my 
eyes and mouth and the rest of my face as black as a negro. 

We arrived at Selma some time before noon and boarded the first boat for 
Montgomery but passed our regiment on the river some time in the night, 
bound for Selma. I did not find this out until we arrived at Montgomery 
and found some of our company officers who had been left there to bring up 
the stragglers. I then got on a boat and went back down the river to 
Selma. I will say here that in making the trip from Holly Springs to where 
we boarded the train was 257 miles that I traveled on foot. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, May 24, 1912 

We remained at Selma but a few days and then returned to near Dalton, 
Georgia. 

I had another trip, I think it was somewhere on our retreat from Dalton to 
Atlanta, that I was sent out with six men, down on a railroad, I do not 
remember what road it was, to see if we could find out what the Yankees 
were doing. We went about eight or ten miles and were walking leisurely 
along when the first thing that attracted my attention was the soldiers 
that were with me cocking their guns. They were a little behind me and as 
I looked around I saw a Yankee officer about twenty-five yards away coming 
in the road behind us. I told the men not to shoot and the officer came 
walking up to us very unconcerned and I commenced to question him. I asked 
him what he was doing there by himself and he said he was lost from his 
command, that he was a lieutenant in some regiment I don't remember now. I 
told him he could consider himself a prisoner and he handed me his sword 
and he had a bottle of liquor and I confiscated that as I needed it in my 
business. About that time we looked down the road, and saw a squad of 
Yankee cavalry ride out and we went back from the road about seventy-five 
yards and made a bee line back the way we had come, with our Yankee in 
front on a trot. We ran about three quarters of a mile and halted and I 
went to the edge of railroad to see how things looked. I saw a lot of 
Yankees at the place we had just left and we started again at a faster 
gait than ever. I stopped and looked again after going about the same 
distance but saw no more of them so I took my man to headquarters and 
handed him over to the proper authorities and never saw him again. He
[missing] as he had taken on too much liquor which was the cause of his
being lost. 

Once more we are back to the Chattahoochie. After our young Yankee got 
across the river all right we staid there doing picket duty for several 
days, talking and having a good time generally. I remember on one occasion 
I had a newspaper and was sitting in a square place that had been cut down 
to get to our pontoons when I looked across and saw a Yankee. We had 
orders to fire at everything in sight that day. I would wave the paper and 
he would run a little ways and stop, then I would wave the paper and he 
would run again, then some of our soldiers up the river opened fire on him 
and if ever a Yankee run, he did, and got back all right. I never thought 
I treated him wrong. Our officers inquired about it and knew that somebody 
had done something to cause him to run down toward where I was, but they 
never found out what it was. 

The relief would come on of evenings and each side would tell the other 
side to hunt their holes until they found out what the orders were. If 
everything was O.K. we would come out from our holes and be as friendly as 
ever. If not we whacked away at each other the best we knew how. 

We remained here several days and fell back in front of Atlanta where we 
threw up breastworks. We had quite a lot of Georgia militia and would put 
them in the front breastworks to relieve the old soldiers. It seemed that 
each mess of them had a negro servant to cook. I remember seeing the 
negroes go to the front with cooked rations and some of them would hold a 
frying pan in front of their heads to keep the minie balls from puncturing 
their heads. 

I was acting Sergeant Major and had to get up the picket force for each 
evening. One evening while the pickets were coming in to be sent out a 
Yankee battery sent a shell right over among us. It exploded not over 
twenty-five feet in front of us and broke the thigh of one man and tore 
the flesh from the calf of the leg of another. I tore the suspenders off 
each one and put around their legs, put a stick in it and twisted it to 
stop the flow of blood. A piece of the shell struck a stake that was stuck 
up in breastworks and a splinter struck me on the arm. I was afraid to 
look at it for fear my arm was gone. One of the men died that night and 
the other some time afterward at the hospital. 

We got short of lead here and the officers employed the soldiers to pick 
up balls that were scattered in the rear where the Yankees had fired at 
our pickets. 

I was on picket here one night and just before daylight we believed the 
Yankees had left our front. Another soldier and myself started out to see 
if it was so. We would walk a little distance and listen, then go on a 
little further and listen again. We kept on this way until we got to their 
breastworks and they were sure enough gone. We got to their works about 
the break of day and looked around a while to see if any stragglers were 
left, but everybody was gone. 

On going back to our picket post I saw more signs of shooting than I ever 
saw before. Between the picket posts the bullets had cut down saplings as 
large as a man's leg, it would lodge and then be cut in two again and if 
the limbs and brush had been thrown out of the way a team and wagon could 
have been driven through the woods anywhere. After I returned to my 
regiment that morning I reported what I had seen and we commenced to get 
out of there and change our position. I believe we went out on the east 
side of town. We had a large cannon on a handcar and one day our regiment 
was in front of it about a hundred yards, when it was fired and the shell 
went right over us, it made a noise like a turkey flying, landed over in 
Yankeedom and exploded. It shook things up in great shape. It was reported 
that one shell killed nearly a whole company. There was only one discharge 
of the gun while we were in front of it. A piece of the band around the 
bomb broke off and killed a lieutenant in our regiment. We were moved 
somewhere else after that. 

I well remember the night Sherman threw shells into the city. I was lying 
down and could see the fuses burning and hear the shells burst in town and 
we could hear the fire department out putting out fires. Most every family 
in town lived underground and one could see the stovepipes protruding from 
the ground. The shells from Sherman's batteries had been falling in the 
city for some time and "bomb proofs" were all over the city. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, May 31, 1912 

General Hood was in command of the Army of the Tennessee at this time and 
if anything was ever out of all sorts it was the Army of the Tennessee. 
Old Joseph E. Johnston looked after his men and did not run them into any 
unnecessary engagements. Hood would fight at the drop of the hat and drop 
it himself, so he thought he would show Sherman a few things out of the 
ordinary. 

We slipped out of Atlanta of the 21st of July and we thought we were doing 
the same old thing of falling back. He fooled Sherman too, as Sherman 
stated in his narrative of the Atlanta campaign. We marched the balance of 
the night and until the next afternoon when we struck Sherman's extreme 
left wing and took the Yankees by surprise, I think, as we run right over 
them and took their works and a number of batteries. We run them out their 
works and we had possession of them. I saw in passing through where they 
had fallen back that the Yankees had their dinner on cooking and they did 
not stay there long enough to set the tables for their company who arrived 
so unexpectedly, and I have always felt kind of thankful to the Yankee 
boys for having our dinner ready for us when we arrived for we were tired 
and hungry. 

I felt very sorry for a Yankee officer who had been wounded and was lying 
in an exposed position, and could not get to a place of safety. He was 
lying about ten steps inside of the works and just behind us, and the 
shells and minie balls were making it hot for us. He called to us and 
asked us to please come and get him down in the ditch where we were, so I 
started out to bring him in but one of our officers told me to come back 
and I had to let him lie in his dangerous position. I never knew how he 
came out. 

I ran up on a wounded Dutchman and he was doing a whole lot of Dutch talk. 
I offered him a drink of water from my canteen and he would shake his 
head. He might have been cussing me for all I knew. 

We held the works that we captured until after night but just across a 
draw further up their line they held part of the works. I ventured out in 
front of our line to see what I could find and run up on a dead Rebel and 
got me a good hat and a few shirts out of the Yankee knapsacks and then 
went back into our lines. 

I do not remember now when we did leave there, but suppose we left that 
night but we were over toward Atlanta after that as I was on the battle 
ground several days after that and could see parts of soldiers sticking 
out of the ditches where they were buried. I don't know who buried them. I 
saw the worst shot man there that I ever saw. A cannon ball cut him 
entirely in two except a little strip of skin on each side. 

Gen. McPherson, a union general, was killed here. 

After the battle of the 22nd we dropped down to Jonesboro and Lovejoy 
station and had a little fighting there but not to amount to much. 

Gen. Hood concluded that he would let Sherman go on south and he would go 
back in Tennessee and see about Sherman's trains that furnished his army 
their supplies and we started on the march back on the west side of the 
railroad. I do not remember that we struck the railroad until we got to 
Dalton. I remember that we marched up close to the town and found in line 
of battle. The soldiers were lying around on the ground when we saw a 
Yankee cavalryman who would ride out to within a hundred yards or so of 
us, fire his carbine and then gallop back toward town. We noticed that he 
would stop at a house just at the edge of town, then he would repeat the 
performance, so a soldier of my company and myself went down in a cotton 
patch and got behind a pile of logs and waited for him to come again. 
About the time we started down to the cotton patch we saw the Yankee 
commander and some of our head officers ride along in front of our lines. 
Our general had demanded the unconditional surrender of the Yankee 
garrison and I heard that he supposed that we were a Rebel cavalry force 
and that he was not going to surrender to them, but when he rode around 
and saw that it was Hood's army he surrendered the place. 

His force consisted of a negro regiment or two with white officers. Myself 
and the fellow that was with me down in the cotton patch saw our forces 
start up in town and we hurried on ahead to see if we could capture the 
Yankee cavalryman but he saw us in time and made his escape, but we went 
on into town and to the fort. Everybody was hurrying around and the 
negroes were about half drunk. I saw a negro with a bottle of whisky and 
told him to hand it over, which he did. I felt so elated over my capture 
that I showed it to one of our officers and he took it away from me and I 
did not get even a taste of it. 

The fort was built around a big house, a hotel, I think, and I went in and 
up to the second story and saw a lot of Yankee officers. They were talking 
about having to go to prison. I ran across one of our generals and he 
ordered me out of there but I just kept out of his sight and stayed as 
long as I wanted to. 

We did about as we pleased and when night came I saw that a detail was 
ordered to go into the fort and bring out the sutler's stores that were 
there. I went up to the officer in charge and told him to roll me out 
something. He eyed me closely and said, "Of course, or I wouldn't be
there," and he hand me a box of raisins and a box of ground pepper, and by 
the time I had hurried to my company and gave the boxes to the boys of my 
mess and got back the detail had moved the balance. I run up against a 
fellow who had got about half a sack of coffee and he asked me and another 
fellow to help him take it out the back way. We helped him in a neighborly 
way but by the time we were out we had filled our haversacks with his 
coffee. 

There was nothing more to do in the fort so we were marched down to the 
railroad and went to fixing it. We would rip up the iron and make pens out 
of the ties, then lay the irons across the pens and set the pile on fire, 
and when the irons got hot each end would bend to the ground. We had the 
negroes helping us and one smart negro refused to help burn the ties and 
he got a minie ball through him. The rest of them were all right after 
that. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, June 7, 1912 

We then started on a march and I saw next day a lot of negro stragglers I 
never knew what became of them but suppose they and the Yankee officers 
were paroled. 

I remember on the march one day hearing a soldier say that Sherman had 
wound up the ball but Hood was unwinding it. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary during that march. I don't remember 
the number of days it took to reach the neighborhood of Decatur but we did 
not go into the town at all as there were a lot of Yankees there and from 
the looks of the forts at a distance we had no time to waste with them, so 
we dropped down the river to the little town of Florence and put our 
pontoons across the river and lit out for middle Tennessee. We just 
cleaned everything up or everybody got out of our way until we landed 
about Franklin, I suppose and believe that Franklin was one of the hottest 
battles of the war. I was not in the battle myself but had arrived on the 
hill south of Franklin when I saw the battle begin. It was fought about 
two miles from where we were and we never got into the engagement. 

I went up to where our lines had fallen back to and formed near the Carter 
house the next morning and saw what had been done the evening before. The 
Yankees had retreated toward Nashville during the night and left their 
dead and wounded on the field. I never saw as many dead as were on the 
ground in front of the Yankee breastworks. There was a locust thicket in 
front of their works and I counted 19 balls that had hit one sapling from 
the ground to the height of a man's head. These were shots from the Yankee 
side, but at the Carter house there was a small brick building, I don't 
know what it was used for, which was struck by over 100 balls. I saw it 
again in 1911. It has never been molested or changed in any way since the 
war. This house was inside the Yankee lines and these shots were fired by 
the Rebels. 

Just inside the works in the Carter house, I think it was the next morning 
after the battle I saw a Yankee officer who had been wounded, I don't know 
how badly but he looked kind of glum as he had not got in good humor since 
the battle. I asked him if I could do anything for him and he looked at me 
as though he would like to kill me. I told him it would be a pleasure to 
me to help him in any way I could and he said I could give him a drink of 
water which I did. I saw another poor fellow who was still out in the 
breastworks. I think from his uniform he was artilleryman. He was sitting 
with both hands up holding his face, his eyes were about closed and his 
face had a greenish color. 

I went back to our lines and saw a lot of prisoners, all surrounded by a 
lot of Rebel guards. I was standing around looking at them when one 
stepped up to me and said he wanted to speak to me privately. We stepped 
to one side and he told me that he had a watch that he would have no need 
for in prison and that if he could get some Confederate money for it he 
would be very glad. He told me the reason he had picked on me was that he 
thought I would treat him right. Well, I could have taken it from him and 
kept it but I gave him twenty dollars in Confederate money for it, all the 
money I had, and he went on to prison. 

I suppose from the appearance of everything that this was one of the 
hardest battles of the war. We lost many killed among them several 
Generals and officers of less prominence. We left here in a day or two for 
Nashville, but we never got there, although we arrived in sight of the 
city. 

I remember the first afternoon several of us went up on a hill in a 
clearing where we could see Fort Negley. We were about two and a half 
miles from the fort and were standing around looking at it when we saw a 
puff of smoke shoot up from the fort, and someone remarked that they were 
shooting at us. We finally concluded that we were mistaken about it, but 
soon after that here it came and about that time its mate barked and we 
left there before it landed. It surprised us that it took the shell so 
long to come two and a half miles. 

I remember that one day while we were around here waiting for the Yankees 
to come out so we could whip them that I ventured out in front of our 
lines to see what was what I came to a fine big brick residence belonging 
to a Widow Brown, the wife of one of our ex-Governors. There was only Mrs. 
Brown and a grown daughter living there at the time but there was a big 
Missouri Yankee there who had been left for protection. I had my gun with 
me and his gun was standing against the stairs. He never tried to get it 
but said that it was one of the rules of war not to molest a guard under 
such circumstances. I told him I understood the rule and I staid there 
quite a while talking to the ladies and the soldier too. The ladies told 
me they were southern sympathizers, and after a while I thought I would 
venture a little further on. I went out and crossed the pike that run 
along the yard fence and had not gone twenty steps when I saw a lot of 
Yankees around a fire, presumably cooking. It was down a slant in the 
ground and if they had seen me at all they could only have seen my head, 
but none of them saw me. I stooped and turned around and if ever a Johnnie 
Reb moved, I did. I never even stopped to tell Mrs. Brown and the rest 
good by. I have always thought they did not treat me right. That Missouri 
Yankee might have told me it was not safe to go very far out that way. 
Mrs. Brown being a good southern woman might have given me the wink and 
nodded her head back south and I think I would have taken the hint, but 
she did not. I understand her daughter still lives in Nashville. I would 
like very much to meet her. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, June 14, 1912 

We laid around in front of Nashville until something did happen sure 
enough. I was out on picket duty here some of the coldest nights I ever 
saw. We had to stay on picket two hours, then go back a short distance and 
thaw out. Our command was finally stationed on the extreme left. Our 
company was on a little round hill. We could not see the Yankees in our 
front on account of the timber and brush but we could see to our right 
nearly a mile. Now and then some Yankee cavalry would run in behind us and 
some of our command would get after them and run them back, but they would 
keep getting in our rear. That position was the only one I was ever in 
that a fellow could not get behind a tree. Late in the afternoon the 
Yankees charged our works about half a mile to our right, in full view of 
our position and some of them broke through our lines. Right then things 
began to happen. The break in our lines widened our as the Yankees pressed 
forward and they never stopped but kept right on. There was a big hill 
just ahead of them and our officers told us to fall back, which we did in 
a hurry, every man taking care of himself. After the Yankees broke our 
lines on our right they came right on until they got to the foot of the 
hill. Then they would go to forming on their colors. While that was going 
on the cavalry came in our rear and we had to run right through a lane of 
them. I never saw one of my company after we started back. When I got to 
the foot of the hill I started up it as fast as I could go. A fellow would 
be shot near me and fall and roll down the hill and I was thinking all the 
time that it would be my turn next. I had got to within about twenty steps 
of the top my left foot stopped a minie ball. It cut a hole through the 
leather of my shoe and sock and to the bone and stopped. I thought it was 
Kattis with me and threw down my gun and cartridge box and went on the 
best I could. Darkness soon overtook me and I finally came to the pike 
leading to Colombia, when I got on a caisson that came by. The drivers 
never saw me the whole night. I rode on the caisson till morning and my 
foot was so painful that I could hardly walk. The Yankees simply whipped 
us to a frazzle and that's a fact. 

Hood ought to have been hung to lay around Nashville until Thomas got all 
the reinforcements he wanted. Hood's army was in no shape to fight this 
battle but Hood would fight whether he was able to do much or not. 

The official returns of the Army of the Tennessee show that when Hood 
crossed the Tennessee river at Florence, Alabama, he had 26,000 of all 
arms. He assaulted Scholfield at Franklin, Tenn. Who had 16,000 men. Hood 
lost 4,500 here and moved on to Nashville with 21,000 men. He had sent 
Bates' division of about 1,600 to Murfreesboro, leaving about 21,000 men. 
Gen. Thomas had inside the works at Nashville about 30.000 and was 
reinforced to about 60,000. Hood's affective force did not exceed 20,000 
men. Hood lost in these engagements, killed, wounded and missing 4,492, 
leaving Hood with less than 15,000 men. 

Official returns made after Hood retreated to Tupelo, Miss. Showed an 
effective force of 16,931 men. Hood lost 50 pieces of artillery and had 59 
left. Gen. Forrest captured and destroyed sixteen blockhouses and 
stockades, twenty bridges, four engines, one hundred cars, ten miles of 
track, captured 1,6oo prisoners, one hundred head of horses, mules and 
cattle. Hood was relieved of his command Jan. 25, 1865. I get this 
information from Battles and Sketches by Bloomfield Ridley, pages 440 and 
441. 

When we retreated to Columbia a lot of us got permission to visit our 
homes. We started early in the morning. There was about ten in the bunch. 
I was in bad shape to walk but I hobbled along as best I could. When we 
got out from our camp we got the direction to Tullahoma and took a 
straight course, regardless of roads. We did not want to travel the roads 
as we might come in contact with the Yankee cavalry. We got along all 
right, stopping with the people at night. Before we got near Tullahoma we 
got a man to pilot us across the railroad track two or three miles north 
of town as there was a lot of Yankees there. The man had a horse that I 
rode as I could not travel as well as the rest of the bunch. It was an 
awful cold night and the ground was covered with snow and ice. We had 
traveled two or three miles when we heard a lot of cavalry approaching, so 
we all hurried to one side of the road. The horse I was riding got loose 
and started for his home. We could hear him running on the frozen ground 
for a mile or so. We laid on the ice till the cavalry had passed. We found 
out afterwards that it was some Rebel cavalry going south. 

We crossed the railroad all right and continued on our way until we 
arrived at the house of a man I knew who lived about ten miles from my 
home. We stayed the balance of the night with him and after breakfast 
crossed Duck river and on towards home, crossing the Manchester and Buck 
Grove road about a mile north of Manchester. We saw in crossing the road a 
lot of Yankee pickets about a quarter of a mile from where we crossed. I 
was then within two miles of home. When within a mile of home I met my 
mother who was then visiting a son, and went on home with her. . The boys 
who were still with me went on to their homes. I had not seen my mother 
since Bragg retreated from Tullahoma, or heard from her either. I stopped 
around home for some time keeping out of sight of the Yankees that 
frequently passed. I found everything in bad shape. The farm was all run 
down stock all gone, but the negroes were still at home and worked 
reasonably well, but they had little to live on. When they would raise a 
crop the soldiers would take it. I remember that the tableware consisted 
of tin plates and the tumblers were the lower parts of glass bottles cut 
in two by drawing a yarn string around them until they were hot and by 
pouring water on them they would come apart. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, June 21, 1912

[missing]



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, June 28, 1912 

While we were in the trenches at Atlanta the authorities gave so much a 
pound for minie balls picked up in the rear of our main line, as our 
ammunition was running short and we wanted to send them back the first 
chance we got. Those that were whole did not have to be moulded again. 
Some of the men made good wages picking them up. When we would be in line 
of battle or in the ditches when some part of our army would be engaged at 
some part of the line the soldiers would write letters to friends on the 
line to find out whether any of our acquaintances was killed or wounded. 
We would get a small stick about six inches long and split one end far 
enough to put the envelope in, then take a string and tie around the split 
end to hold it secure, then toss it where we wanted it to go. Some one 
would toss it again and so on until it reached its destination. I have got 
an answer the same day. 

I remember when we were in line of battle at Atlanta that the Georgia 
militia would be in reserve just behind our line, and they would have a 
negro cook to bring their rations to them at their line, and I have seen 
the negroes carry a frying pan up in front of their heads to keep the 
Yankees balls from hitting them. The balls would probably have glanced off 
anyway, as a negro's skull is almost bomb proof. 

Soon after I got home, in 1865 I married and settled down at the old home. 
I looked after the family, my mother being a widow, as my father died when 
I was about ten years old. I reared a large family of children, two boys 
living in Iowa, one daughter in California, the rest that are living are 
near me in Tennessee. 

RECONSTRUCTION and the CHURCH

One of the saddest things in the reconstruction madness was that the 
church tried to give the sanction of religion to the effort to steal our 
property and disfranchise us in favor of the carpet bagger, the sca'awag 
and the negro. The General Assembly of the Presbyterian church had been 
very bitter during the war denouncing rebellion as they called it, and in 
advising and encouraging the government in all its measures, however cruel 
and oppressive. In May, 1865 the assembly met in Pittsburg, Pa. And passed 
a series of resolutions practically suspending all Presbyterian ministers 
until they had repented of the sin of rebellion, and as those in the 
south, almost to a man was strong supporters of the Confederacy this 
action declared every pulpit vacant and meant that North had the right to 
take over all our churches with their property. The southern ministers, in 
1861 had protested against the church taking sides in the political 
question dividing the country, and when the assembly demanded that all 
ministers under its jurisdiction should support the cause of the union 
those in the Confederate states withdrew and organized a separate church. 
This action at Pittsburgh in 1865 was thus a distinct refusal to 
acknowledge the southern General Assembly as having any rights that the 
northern body was bound to respect. The first Presbyterian church of 
Nashville was probably the first to resist the effort of the northern 
church to get posession. This church had called the Rev. R. F. Bunting, 
the noted chaplain of the Texas Rangers to be their pastor and he had gone 
to Ohio to meet his family and bring them to Nashville. In the meantime 
the Northern Board of Home Missions appointed as minister a Mr. Brown, to 
come to Nashville and take charge of the First church. The elders had been 
notified of his appointment and were expecting him any day, but they 
determined that he should not take charge of the church, so they employed 
the Rev. J. H. McKinly, D. D. to hold the church until Dr. Bunting 
arrived. The church building had been used as a hospital by the Federal 
troops and was in no condition to have church services in. Rev. McKinley 
had run the church for some time when Rev. Brown and Dr. Bunting both 
arrived about the same time. Both were getting ready to hold services. Mr. 
Brown saw at once that he had run against a snag. They told him that the 
First Presbyterians had never given up their organization, nor forfeited 
their rights and claimed the right to select their own minister. The 
matter was argued pro and con and the church frankly told Mr. Brown that 
they did not want nor would they have him as their minister. After he saw 
that the case was hopeless he got his Irish up and spoke something like 
this: "Gentlemen, you seem to forget that the rebellion is crushed and 
that Nashville is in the hands of the union army." 

Prof. Cross, rising to his feet, drawing himself to his full stature said: 
"Mr. Brown, do you mean to threaten us? Is it your aim to use the military 
force to compel us to accept you as our minister?" Dr. Bunting preached 
that day. Mr. Brown appealed to Gen. Thomas who gave him to understand 
that he was not in it, and he went back north where he was probably liked 
better. 

I stayed around home and kept out of sight of the Yankees that passed that 
way from one place to another, until a neighbor, a union man, advised me 
that I had better go with him to headquarters at Tullahoma, and report, 
which I did. This man's name was R. E. Lasiter, and he was a great help to 
all of us southern people. He had great influence with the Yankee 
commander and saved many lives. The commander was named Milroy and another 
was Gen. Payne. He was a regular mean one and if some one like Lasater did 
not interfere they generally got shot in short order after reporting to 
headquarters. 

The authorities had me to report down at Tullahoma once a month, which I 
did for several times, when they sent me down to Nashville and for several 
days I had to report every day. They finally got tired of that, I suppose, 
and they sent me to the penitentiary for safe keeping. The prisoners in 
the pen were of all sorts and sizes, Rebels, Yankees, citizens, negroes 
and what not. There was one old citizen in there, I remember, who would 
stand around and cuss the Yankees from morning till night. There was also 
a Yankee who wore a Mother Hubbard made of a barrel, with a hole in the 
head of it just large enough for his head to go through, and it was 
labeled "Thief." He might have been the fellow who stole my mother's pie, 
I don't know. Then there was a lot of negroes with ball and chain on their 
legs. There was a long shed that we all would stay during the day and 
sleep in the building at night. We got two meals a day, one in the morning 
and one about 3 p.m. We would get bread and some other stuff and a lot of 
coffee if you had any vessel to put it in. If you did not, you got no 
coffee. At the afternoon meal you could get bread and beans or soup, if 
you had something to put them in. I had got a Yankee canteen and cut the 
top off, and fared very well after that. 

Most everyone in the pen, I mean the war prisoners, gambled from morning 
till night. After remaining there two or three weeks myself and a number 
of others took some kind of an oath and came home. I was all right then 
and was not afraid to meet any Yankees that might be passing through the 
country. Then is when I settled down to farming. 

When I was released from the pen I went up in the city to some of the 
bosses and showed them my papers, and told them I would like to get 
transportation home. The fellow asked me if I did not walk to Nashville 
and I told him that I walked in there with Gen. Hood. I thought that would 
be a point in my favor, but he told me I could walk home, which I did. I 
have thought ever since then he ought to have given me transportation as 
my feet got awfully blistered. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, July 12, 1912

HEROINES OF THE SOUTH

In Rhea county, Dayton, Tenn., was organized the only Ladies Company in 
all the land of Dixie. The object of this company was to visit relatives, 
friends and sweethearts who had enlisted in the several companies from 
Rhea county, taking them clothing, medicines, and provisions, performing 
the part of ministering angels. This company was organized in 1862 and was 
from the most prominent and respected families of Rhea county. Miss Mary 
McDonald was the captain, Miss Jennie Hoyal first lieutenant, Miss O. J. 
Lock second lieutenant, Miss R. G. Thomison, third lieutenant and Misses 
Kate Hoyal, Barbara Allen, Jane Kieth, Sadie Mitchell, Caroline McDonald, 
Annie Myers, Mary A. McDonald, Margaret Abel and Martha Easley were 
members. 

After the Federals had occupied Tennessee Valley and reduced the women 
almost to starvation the Federal authorities, on February 5, 1865, sent 
and arrested all these young ladies who were members of the company and on 
the 6th day of April, these young ladies were marched by an armed mounted 
guard to Smith's Cross Roads, now Dayton; thence in the night were marched 
to Belle Landing, on the Tennessee river, marching in mud over their shoe 
tops. Here they were made to wait all night long until an old boat known 
as the "Chicken Thief" came along when they were placed on board and 
locked up in the dining room and a guard placed at each door. They were 
taken to Chattanooga, sleeping on the bare floor. Upon their arrival at 
Chattanooga they were marched up to the provost marshal's office like a 
lot of criminals and required to take the oath of allegiance. Gen. 
Steadman, who was in charge of the Federal forces, on looking over these 
young ladies who were among the best of Rhea county, ordered them released 
and directed that they be served a splendid dinner and then be returned to 
their homes. He severely reprimanded the inferior officers for having 
arrested these girls, who were from 16 to 22 years old. Such is war--cruel 
war. The Yankee officers were generally kind to our women and some of the 
men were kind but others were very mean to the helpless women. 

The following sketches of heroines of the South is by permission taken 
from "Battles and Sketches of the Army of the Tennessee," by Bromfield L. 
Ridley, of Murfreesboro, Tenn. The battle of Nashville gave us a heroine 
whose name Gen. Hood placed on the Roll of Honor, Miss Mary Bradford, now 
Mrs. John Johns, appeared when Gen. Thomas' army was pouring the musketry 
into us and Hood's army was in full retreat, rushed out into the thickest 
of the battle and begged the soldiers to stop and fight. 

The famous raid of Gen. Stra[??] With two thousand men, near Rome, 
Georgia, resulting in his capture through the intrepidity of Miss Emma 
Sausome was an instance of female prowess long to be remembered. Amid the 
flying bullets thrilled with patriotism she jumped on behind Gen. Forrest 
and piloted him across Black Creek. The legislature of Alabama presented 
her land and the people lauded her to the skies. 

Another heroine in name only, yet a hero in fact appeared in Gen. Morgan's 
tramp on the line of Kentucky and Tennessee, grew to be a terror in that 
section. The boys, on account of his feminine features and flowing hair 
use to call him "Sissie." They dressed him up one day and introduced him 
to Gen. Morgan as Miss Sue Munday. It turned out to be Jerome Clark, son 
of Hector Clark, of Franklin, Kentucky, but after this he was known only 
as Sue Munday. He was a member of the old squadron and on account of the 
insults heaped upon his family he was a terror to every one who wore the 
blue that came his way. 

At one time in 1863, says Gen. Colman, of the Indian Territory, Miss Press 
Whitley, aged 19, of Knob-noster, a Federal post in Missouri rode on 
horseback from her home 60 miles carrying news to the intrepid Quantrell 
and at another time, when the Federals were at the home of her father, 
Capt. Wm. Whitley in search of contraband goods, she shot a lieutenant, 
wounded a private and made her escape. They outlawed her, her uncle was 
shot from ambush, breaking his under jaw and cutting off his tongue. Miss 
Whitley rode 20 miles at night, found her uncle, carried him home and hid 
him in an old well until he had recovered sufficiently to ride away. The 
Federal authorities banished her from the state. 

The old scouts in the west will remember two other heroines through whose 
aid we were often saved from attack. Miss Kate Patterson, now Mrs. Kyle, 
of Luvergne, Tenn, and Miss Robbie Woodruff, who lived ten miles from 
Nashville. They would go into Nashville and get what information was 
needed and place it in a designated tree or log to be conveyed to us by 
our scouts. I have often wondered if that diagram of the works around 
Nashville found upon the person of Sam Davis was not the work of the young 
ladies, notwithstanding it was the impression that it was stolen from Gen. 
Dodges table by a negro boy. 

But I have a heroine of the mountains who developed in war times, yet on 
account of her obscure habitation and the bitter heart burnings existing 
between the two sections so evenly divided that history has not given her 
the merited fame. I got her record from the Rev. J. H. Nicholds, who lived 
near her in Putman county, three miles from Cookville, Tenn. Her name was 
Miss Mariana Gunter; now Mrs. Joseph Harris. Her father, Larkin Gunter, 
was a southern man, and some bushwhackers claiming to belong to the 
Federal army, resolved to kill him. One night three of them, Mixwell, 
Miller and Patton, visited him at their home and told him in the presence 
of his family that his time had come to die. They took him from the house 
and in a short time this girl of 17 heard the blows and her old father's 
groans, when she rushed to the woodpile, got an ax and hurriedly 
approached the scene. She killed two with the ax and broke the third one's 
arm and he fled in a hurry, but afterwards died from his wound. She then 
lifted her father up and carried him to the house. Soon he sought and 
obtained protection from the Federal general at Nashville. She said 
afterwards that upon hearing her father's groans she grew frantic and does 
not know to this good day how she managed it. This is the greatest 
achievement of female heroism ever recorded and places Miss Gunter on a 
pinnacle of glory that belongs not only to patriotism but to the grandeur 
of filial devotion, the tie that stretches from the cradle to the grave, 
spans the heavens and is riveted through eternity to the throne of God. 

They talk of Sheridan's ride, but let me tell you on one that strips it of 
its grandeur. The famous run of Miss Antoinette Polk, displaying a heroism 
worthy of imperishable record. She was on the Hampshire turnpike, a few 
miles from Columbia, Tenn., when some one informed her of the Federals 
contemplated raid upon her father's home on the Mt. Pleasant pike, five 
miles across, said pike forming an obtuse angle from Columbia. She knew 
that some soldier friends at her father's would be captured unless they 
had notice and in order to inform them she had to go across the angle 
which was barricaded with high rails and rock fences. There was no more 
superb equestrienne in the valley of the Tennessee, of magnificent 
physique and she had a thoroughbred horse trained to do her bidding. She 
started, her horse leaped the fences like a deer and came out in front of 
the troopers four miles from her home. They took after her but her foaming 
steed was so fleet of foot that she got away from them and saved her 
friends from capture. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, July 19, 1912 

I remember another heroine. Lieut. Buford, of an Arkansas regiment. She 
stepped and walked, the personification of a soldier boy, had won her 
spurs at the battle of Bull Run, Shiloh and Ft. Donelson and was promoted 
for gallantry. One evening she came to Gen. Steward's headquarters at 
Tyner's station with an order from Major Kinlock Folconet to report for 
duty as a scout but upon finding that he was a woman she was sent back and 
the order was revoked. She has written a book. In point of devotion to 
duty, nursing our soldiers in distress, the sick and wounded, the women of 
the south were all Florence Nightengales. It would be invidious to 
discriminate but I will mention some other noteworthy deeds. 

I have another heroine, bless her sweet soul. I have forgotten her name. 
One day Gen. Morgan sent a squad of us on a scout and we were pursued by 
Col. Funkerhauser's regiment in Denny's bend of the Cumberland river near 
Rome, Tennessee. My heroine, a girl of 14 directed us to Bradley's Island 
for safety, a place of about sixty acres in cultivation. On the river side 
it was encircled by a sand bar with driftwood lodged on an occasional 
tree. This sweet little girl brought us a square meal and watched like a 
hawk for our safety during the day. Hinking that it was only a foraging 
party and that they were gone, we ventured to leave during the afternoon, 
but run into them and a running fire ensued. After eluding pursuit we 
concluded to go back. In a short time a company of Federals appeared on 
the island, evidently having tracked our horses. We left our horses 
without hitching them and took shelter under a big fallen tree. The 
troopers were within ten steps of us at the time. We could hear them 
distinctly. One fellow said, "If we catch them this is a good place to 
hang them." Another one said, "Let's go into the drift wood on the sand 
bar and bag them." Our hearts throbbed and our legs trembled for we 
thought that we were gone. One of our squad said, "Let's give up," but the 
rest of us were too scared to answer, and they passed on without 
discovering us. 

Our heroine came to us after nightfall she called and we answered. She was 
happy over our escape and said she saw them leaving and seeing no 
prisoners she had mounted her horse and followed them to the toll gate two 
miles away and learned that they had returned to Lebanon, after which she 
brought our supper and put us on a safe road. Such heroines the soldiers 
often met with in disputed territory between contending armies. They 
evidenced a devotion to country that only might and not right could 
subdue. 

There was another class more nearly comporting with the female character--
sock knitters, clothes makers, needle pliers, God servers, rebelling in 
sentiment, in touch with the times. From wealth they drank the dregs of 
poverty's cup until now nearly fifty years, by frugality, they have been 
instrumental in our Southland's blessed resurrection. Female clerks, 
teachers, stenographers, from authoresses to cooks, they attest the 
courage and praiseworthiness that exceeds belicose valor. 

The following account of heroism in saving her father's life is 
contributed by J. M. Bedichek, brother of the heroine, and now principal 
of the Eddy Literary Scientific Institute of Eddy, Texas. Mr. Bedichek was 
under Gen. F. M. Cockrell, in the 1st Missouri Brigade. His sister and 
father were left alone, their mother having died before the war. It was on 
the night of the 6th of June, 1865, when the most cruel phase of horrible 
war was seen nightly in ghastly murders and lurid flames, that a band of 
soldiers was seen in our front yard seven miles north of Warrensburg, 
Johnson county, Missouri. A knock was heard at the door and Sister Mary 
Bedichek, then 16 years old, asked, "Who is there?" "Friends," said a 
voice outside. "What do you want?" she asked. "We want to come in and 
warm." "You have guns?" "Yes." "If you will leave your guns outside you 
may come in," she said. "Oh, well, if that will please you, we will do
so," whereupon the leader came in. No others appeared to care to enter and 
sister closed the door and locked it. The soldier asked if there were any 
bushwhackers in the house. "There's no one but Father and I," she said. 
"Your two brothers are in the Rebel army, 'eh?" "Yes." A search of the 
room by the dim light of the fire place was made. It was near bed time, 
and when the militiaman had satisfied himself that nobody but father and 
sister were in the house he said: "Old man, I have come to kill you," 
drawing his pistol at the same time. "Ah!" As father made this laconic 
response he grabbed the pistol and a most terrible scuffle ensued. The 
assailant wrested the pistol out of father's hand and began to beat him 
over the head with the pistol. Sister Mary, not idle, ran to the kitchen, 
seized a corn knife, a very large one, and directed an effectual blow at 
the uplifted arm and with rapid blows chopped his head until he cried for 
help, saying "For God's sake let me out," where upon one of the party 
outside ran to the north door, opened it, gun in hand and tried to see 
which one to shoot. My sister, hearing him seized the gun with her left 
hand and dealt him a blow. He jerked the gun from her and she gave him 
another blow and pushed him out of the house. She then locked the door and 
put the window shades down so they could not see where to shoot. Those on 
the south of the house opened fire at the window and with a beam broke the 
door down. No one attempted to come in but the wounded man staggered to 
the door and down the steps. Some one asked if he was hurt and he said, "I 
am a dead man." He fell within ten steps of the door and they took him 
away. 

Father sent word to Warrensberg that his house had been attacked and Col. 
Thos. Crittenden, of the Federal army, later democratic governor of 
Missouri, sent out a scout under Capt. Box. As they approached the house 
and were about to enter the yard he ordered them to halt outside. Sister 
thought they had come for revenge and she procured a long dagger, hid it 
in the folds of her dress and waited at the door for the approach of the 
captain. 

"Well," said the captain, "you have had a battle here I understand. It 
looks very much like it from the looks of the room." There was blood, 
hair, a hat, gloves, etc. strewn over the house. The captain said: "Tell 
me about it." As sister was telling her story the company came up close in 
order to catch what was said. One of the soldiers said, "I wish she had 
killed the other one too." Another said, "I wish she had killed the whole 
outfit." 

Col. Crittenden made my sister a present of a fine pistol as a mark of her 
heroism and to emphasize his disapproval of murdering old men by brutal 
soldiers and bushwhackers. This account is as father and sister told me 
soon after the terrible tragedy. 

Signed J. M. Bedeker. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, July 26, 1912 

When I got home there was just one mare on the place and she was two years 
past and that was the stock I made the first crop with. 

After my return home the negroes had a stock of fodder which they had hid 
in the woods that had not been taken. The only kind of plow I had to do 
the breaking up of the land and the cultivation of my crop was an old 
"bull tongue" plow. Some of our people had to go forty miles to get corn 
to make a crop with and for bread. When I returned and started my crop the 
negroes all wanted to start out for themselves, which they did. I offered 
my negro man a 30 acre piece of land but he refused the offer and the 
whole batch started out on their own resources except a negro girl who 
lived with our family until her death only a few years ago. 

We suffered many privations during those years. Our women had to wear 
homemade clothing. The first suit I had after my return was homemade. My 
mother spun the thread and then wove it and a neighbor lady made the suit. 
My over coat was made of a Yankee blanket, but we made out that way until 
we could do better. When anyone was lucky enough to have bacon they had to 
hide it to keep the Yankees from stealing it. Some would hang it in the 
tops of the trees in the summer and some would put it in an ash hopper and 
cover it with ashes. 

I have been trying ever since the war to find the Yankee that took a 
family pie my mother was cooking on the fire place. I don't want to hurt 
him but simply to shake hands with a good forager. Mother was cooking the 
pie and watching it very closely, and this Yankee was watching her. He 
finally walked into another room and returning told her that a soldier was 
going through a bureau in another room. My mother went in to see about it 
but no one was in the room. When she returned the fellow was going out of 
the gate with oven, pie and all. After the cavalry had gone on, my mother 
went up where they had stopped to feed and got her oven. I would like to 
hear from that fellow if he is living. It is not too late to apologize for 
the trick he played. 

Some time after I had returned from prison and the war had ended and Rebel 
soldiers commenced passing on their homes. The reconstruction set in. Gov. 
Brownlow, the military governor of the state set in to reconstruct us old 
Rebels and try to make good citizens out of us. He would appoint three 
good union men to run our county business. Our county got three very good 
men to act as commissioners who did reasonably well with the people. The 
governor appointed a son-in-law of President Johnson from East Tennessee 
to be our circuit judge and he appointed a little Yankee carpetbagger to 
be our attorney general and the way they run our courts was a sight. Judge 
Patterson was very near deaf. I remember on one occasion a Rebel lawyer 
got up to make a speech in a certain case and in starting out made the 
remark to the jury that the old thing sitting as judge was a deaf old 
fool, and everybody in court laughed. The judge leaned over the desk with 
hand to his ear and asked what was the matter and the lawyer turned around 
and said "Just a little levity, Judge," and proceeded with his argument. 

Everyone summoned as a juror was asked under oath whether he was a Ku Klux 
or not. A Ku Klux could not sit on a jury if they knew it. They never 
found a Ku Klux but there was plenty of them in the county. 

Every white man that was old enough to vote had to have a certificate from 
one of Gov. Brownlow's appointees before he could vote but the negro would 
vote, and a good republican could vote every one of them and the same is 
done to this good day. Every man, white or black, has to have a poll tax 
receipt before he can vote, and the negroes generally wait until about 
election time in order to get some good republican to pay his poll tax and 
there are some low down whites that do the same. That kind of voter ought 
to be barred from voting. 

After several years we all got things in shape so we could vote and you 
ought to see the carpetbaggers retire, and the most of them have been 
taking back seats ever since. We finally got to be good citizens and have 
been attending to our own affairs ourselves. 

After the negroes got their freedom it made awful fools out of them. That 
is what brought the Ku Klux into existence. We had to have something like 
that to handle them. When a company of the Klan wanted to scare them they 
would go to a negro house in the night with the scaryest clothing 
imaginable and call for a drink of water. The negro would bring out a 
dipper and the Ku Klux would drink and call for more and keep calling for 
more and keep calling for more and keep calling, then he would finally ask 
for the bucket full and he would then tell the negro that was the first 
drink he had since he was killed at Shiloh. Negroes are very superstitious 
and they would lay very low after that. The Ku Klux would whip one once in 
a while. I knew of their whipping mean white men too. There was a white 
man living in this county who was so mean and stingy that he would not buy 
his daughter books to go to school or clothing to dress her decently. 
Well, the Klan went to see him one night and told him they would be back 
in a week and if he did not have things in shape they would attend to him. 
He told them they need not return as he would get the necessary articles 
at once, and he did. 

There was an old couple of white people living near me, each being over 80 
years of age. I called to see them one morning while they were eating 
breakfast and I saw some of the little negroes go to the table while the 
old folks were eating and grab a handful of fried eggs. It was not long 
after that the Ku Klux called and whipped a couple of the ring leaders. I 
never heard of any more complaints against the negroes. The threshing they 
received seemed to make good citizens out of them. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, August 2, 1912 

In writing these sketches, before I close, I want to chronicle the death 
of Sam Davis, a Tennessee hero. The following condensed sketch was 
furnished by Joshua Brown, of New York city, who was a member of the 2nd 
Kentucky cavalry of the C. S. A. and was a fellow scout of Sam Davis. He 
says, "As you requested I will give you my personal recollections of the 
capture, imprisonment and execution of Sam Davis, one of the noblest 
patriots that ever died for his country. Other patriots have died for 
their country. Capt. Morton Williams and Lieut. Peters who were hanged at 
Franklin, Tenn. by the Federals knew that death was inevitable and died 
like brave soldiers, but Davis had continuance of life, pardon and a pass 
offered him through the lines, if he would only reveal where he got the 
information and papers that were found on his person and in his saddle 
seat, but he knew that the man who gave them to him was at that moment in 
jail with him, Col. Shaw, chief of Bragg's scouts, who had charge of the 
secret service of the Army of the Tennessee. Gen. Bragg had sent the 
scouts into Middle Tennessee to see what the Federal army was doing and to 
report the same to him, at Caattanooga by courier. When we received our 
orders we were told it was a very serious undertaking and they expected 
but few of us to return. After the scouts had been in Tennessee about ten 
days we watched the 16th corps, commanded by Gen. Dodge, move up from 
Corinth, Miss. To Pulaski, Tenn. We agreed that we would leave for the 
south on the 19th of November, 1863. A number had been captured and 
several killed. We were to start that night each for himself. Each had his 
own information, but I did not write it down or make a memorandum of it 
for fear of being captured. We had counted every regiment and all the 
artillery of the 16th corps and had found out that they were moving to 
Chattanooga. Late in the afternoon we started out and ran into the 7th 
Kansas cavalry, known as the "Kansas Jayhawkers." When we were told what 
regiment had captured us we thought our time had come. 

We were taken to Pulaski, about fifteen miles away and put into jail where 
several other prisoners had been sent. Among them was Sam Davis. I talked 
with him over our prospects of imprisonment and escape, which were very 
gloomy. Davis said they had searched him and found some papers on him and 
that he had been taken to general headquarters and that they had found in 
his saddle seat maps and descriptions of the fortifications at Nashville 
and at other points, and an exact report of the Federal army in Tennessee. 
They found in his boot this letter which was intended for Gen. Bragg. 

Giles County, Tenn. Nov. 18, 1863. Col. A. McKinstry, Prov. Marshal Gen. 
Army of the Tennessee, Chattanooga, Tenn. 

Dear Sir:-- 

I send you seven Nashville papers, three Louisville papers and one 
Cincinnati paper. I also send for Gen. Bragg three wash balls of soap, 
three tooth brushes, and two blank books. I could not get a larger size 
diary for him I will send a pair of shoes and slippers and some more soap, 
gloves and socks soon. The Yankees are still camped on the line of the 
Tennessee & Alabama railroad. Gen. Dodge's headquarters are at Pulaski. 
His main force is camped from that place to Lynville, some at Elk river 
and two regiments at Athens, Ala. Gen. Dodge has issued an order to the 
people of those counties to report all stock, grain and forage to him and 
he will give vouchers for it, upon refusal to report that he will take it 
without pay. They are now taking all they can find. Gen. Dodge says he 
knows they are all southern and does not ask them to swear to a lie. All 
the spare forces around Nashville are being sent to McMinnville. Six 
batteries and twelve Parrot guns were sent forward on the 14th, 15th and 
16th. It is understood that it is to work in front. Telegrams suppressed. 
Davis has returned, Gregg has gone below. Everything is beginning to work 
better. I send Roberts with things for you and Gen. Bragg with dispatches. 
I think the Yankees will stay. Everything looks that way. I understand 
that part of Sherman's army has reached Shelbyville. I hope to be able to 
post you soon. The dispatches I sent you on the 7th reached Decatur on the 
10th. 

Here is Sam Davis' pass: 

Headquarters Bragg's Scouts 

Middle Tennessee, Sept. 25, 1863 

Samuel Davis has permission to pass anywhere in Middle or south of the 
Tennessee river as he may see proper. 

By order of Gen. Bragg 

F. Coleman, Comdg. Scouts 

The next morning Davis was again taken to Gen. Dodge's headquarters and 
this is what took place between them, as Gen. Dodge told me recently. Gen. 
Dodge says he took Davis into his private office and told him it was a 
very serious charge against him, that he was a spy, and what was found 
upon his person showed that he had accurate information regarding my army 
and I must know where he obtained it. I told him he was a young man and he 
seemed not to realize the danger he was in. Up to that time he had said 
nothing, but he replied in the most respectful and dignified manner. "Gen. 
Dodge, I realize the danger of my situation and am willing to take the 
consequences." 

I then asked him to give me the name of the party who gave him the 
information as I knew it must be some one near headquarters or who had the 
confidence of my staff officers and repeated that I meant to know the 
source from which the information came. I told him I would have to call a 
court martial and have him tried for his life and from the proof we had we 
would be compelled to convict him. 

He replied, "I know that. I know I will have to die, and I will not tell 
where I got the information. There is no power on earth that can make me 
tell it. You, General, are doing your duty as a soldier. I am doing my 
duty to my country and my God." 

I plead with him, said Gen. Dodge, and urged him with all the power I 
possessed to give me some chance to save his life, for I discovered that 
he was a most admirable young man, with the highest character and 
strictest integrity. Davis then said "It is useless for you to talk to me. 
I do not intend to do it. You may court martial me and do anything else 
you like, but I will not betray the trust reposed in me." 

He thanked me for the interest I had taken in him and I sent him back to 
prison and immediately called a court martial to try him. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, August 9, 1912 

The commission that sat on the case when Sam Davis was tried was composed 
of the following: Col. Madison Miller, 18th Missouri; Lieut-Col. Thos. W. 
Gains, 50th Missouri Inf.; Mayor Lathrop, 39th Iowa Inft.; Judge Advocate. 

After hearing the evidence the following sentence was pronounced: 

"The commission do hereby sentence him, the said Samuel Davis, of Colman's 
Scouts, of the so-called Confederate States to be hanged by the neck until 
dead, at such time and place as the commanding general shall direct, two 
thirds of the commission approving. The sentence will be carried into 
effect on Friday, November 27, 1863 between the hours of 10 a. m. and 2 p. 
m. Brigadier General T. W. Sweeny, commanding the division will cause the 
necessary arrangements to be made to carry out this order in the proper 
manner." 

Capt. Armstrong informed Davis of his sentence by the court martial. He 
was surprised at the severity of his sentence, expecting to be shot not 
thinking that they would hang him, but he showed no fear and resigned 
himself to his fate as only brave men can. That night he wrote the 
following letter to his mother. 

Pulaski, Tenn. Nov. 26, 1863. 

Dear Mother, 

Oh, how painful it is to write you. I have got to die tomorrow morning, to 
be hanged by the Federals. Mother, do not grieve for me. I must bid you 
good by forever more. Mother, I do not fear to die. Give my love to all. 

Your son 

Samuel Davis 

Mother, tell the children all to be good. I wish I could see you all once 
more, but I never will any more. Mother and Father don't forget me. Think 
of me when I am dead but do not grieve for me, it will not do any good. 
Father, you can send after my remains if you want to do so. They will be 
at Pulaski, Tenn. South of Columbia. 

He was then taken back to his cell in jail and we did not see anything 
more of him until Thursday morning. The day before his execution we moved 
into the court house, about 100 feet from the jail. Davis was handcuffed 
and brought in just as we were eating breakfast. I gave him some meat and 
he thanked me for it. The guard was then doubled around the jail and we 
all bade him good bye. 

Next morning, Friday, Nov. 29th at 10 o'clock we heard the drums and a 
regiment of infantry came marching down the street to the jail. A wagon 
and a coffin in it was driven up and the Provost Marshal went in the jail 
and brought Davis out. He stepped into the wagon and looked around at us 
and seeing us at the windows bowed to us his last farewell. He was dressed 
in a dark brown overcoat such as many of us had captured and dyed brown. 
He sat down on the coffin and the regiment moved off to the suburbs of the 
town where the gallows had been erected. Upon reaching the gallows he 
stepped from the wagon and took a seat on a bench under a tree. He asked 
Capt. Armstrong how long he had to live and he replied, "Fifteen minutes." 
He then asked the Captain the news. He told him of the battle of 
Missionary Ridge and that the Confederates had been defeated at which he 
expressed his regret and said, "The boys will have to fight the battles 
without me." 

Captain Armstrong then said: "I regret to do this. I feel that I had 
almost rather die myself than to do what I have to do." 

Davis replied, "I do not think hard of you. You are only doing your duty." 

Gen. Dodge still had hopes that Davis would recant when he saw death 
staring him in the face and that he would reveal the name of the traitor 
in his camp. He sent Capt. Chickasaw, of his staff, to Davis. He rapidly 
approached the scaffold, jumped from his horse and went directly to Davis 
and asked him if it would not be better to tell who gave him the 
information in the documents found on him, as it was not yet too late. 

And now, in his last extremity, Davis turned to him and said: 

"If I had a thousand lives I would lose them all here before I would 
betray my friends or the confidence of my informer." 

Davis then requested Capt. Chickasaw to thank Gen. Dodge for his efforts 
to save him, but to report that he would not accept the terms. Turning to 
the chaplain he gave him a few keepsakes to send to his mother and then 
said to the Provost Marshal, "I am ready," ascended the scaffold and 
stepped upon the trap. 

Thus passed away one of the noblest and most sublime characters known in 
history and in future ages this act will be pointed out as one most worthy 
of emulation. 

In a private letter with this sketch Comrade Brown writes that Gen. Dodge 
has been very kind and has given every assistance in getting reports from 
the war department and that he, Gen. Dodge hopes that the citizens will 
build a monument to Davis in the capitol square at Nashville and thinks 
that it should be of bronze, representing a Confederate soldier. The 
monument has been erected as suggested and one of the grandest things 
about the whole affair is that Gen. Dodge subscribed $10 as a contribution 
toward the fund which was raised to build it. 



The Independent - Boone, Iowa. Friday Morning, August 16, 1912 

Although in my four years experience in the war between the states I saw 
many sad things. I never saw a sadder thing than happened near Dalton, 
Georgia, while we were in winter quarters there. I have seen dead soldiers 
on the battle field so thick that you could walk long distances upon them, 
have witnessed heartrending scenes in the hospitals but never anything 
more affecting than this. 

We had erected an arbor for devotional services and a protracted meeting 
was going on. Our chaplains were conducting these meetings and the men of 
our and other commands were showing great interest in the services, many 
having embraced religion and come forward for prayer. 

One night while these services were going on in the arbor, after the 
captain had preached an excellent sermon he called upon the penitents to 
come forward to the altar. Many men came forward and were kneeling, the 
alter being full. Strong men were bowed asking forgiveness for their sins 
when a large tree standing near, which had got on fire at the stump, 
burned off and fell right across the arbor where the penitents were upon 
their knees in prayer, killing nine of them instantly. It fell right along 
the log upon which they had their heads, crushing them to a pulp. 

I attended the funeral the next day when the nine were buried in one 
square grave with the honors of war, a platoon of soldiers firing volleys 
over the grave. 

This concludes my story of my experiences in the civil war. The sufferings 
and privations of the men in the field, our mothers, sisters and daughters 
at home can never be told at least by my feeble pen. A new South has been 
born, a new generation has come upon the field of action and we all hope 
there may never be another call to arms but that all differences may be 
settled without the shedding of blood. With best wishes to every reader, I 
am 

Fraternally yours, 
R. C. CARDEN 



Postscript to the above articles; written by R.C. Carden 

   As a kind of postscript, I wish to speak of my visit to Iowa in the 
spring of 1911 and of Dr. M.R. Hammer's visit to Tennessee in September of 
last year.  I have two sons in Iowa and in May, 1911 I concluded to visit 
them and to see a part of the north and ascertain how an old ex-Rebel 
would be received there, so about the first of May I boarded the train at 
Manchester, Tenn. and the next night arrived at Newton, Iowa.  I found 
that Iowa has the finest farming country I ever saw, and I was much 
surprised to find that the old Yankee boys were so kind and pleasant to an 
old Johnny.  I was treated fine by almost everyone of them.  However I 
found two or three who were still thirsty for Rebel blood, but I found 
also that they were like some we have in the south, they saw but little or 
no blood during the war.  I met one old follow at the fair grounds at 
Newton, and when I told him that I was an old Rebel he remarked that he 
was a federal soldier and "We whipped you."  I said, "Yes, you did."  He 
kept on giving his experience and finally told me that he was one of a 
home guard and that he had never left Jasper county.  I don't guess that 
he got but few Rebels during the war.  Another one or two were in the 
south but were not doing the south much damage.  Only one did and he told 
me that he belonged to the force that built roads, etc.  He told me his 
General was a good man to the southerners, and one day he said the General 
ordered them not to burn a certain house, but he burned it anyway. 
   Such old boys as Tommy Rodgers, George Early, Rev. Porter, John Moore 
and others that I met at Newton and Reasnor, and P.D. Swick of Boone were 
quite different.  I never met nicer or more courteous gentlemen than these 
anywhere. 
   Of the citizens in Jasper county I especially would mention for 
kindness shown were Dr. M.R. Hammer, Mr. Marshall, of Marshall & Johnson, 
Ira Livingston, Bates, the photographer, and many others. 
   While in Jasper county the old Yankee boys requested me to decorate the 
grave of an old Rebel who was buried in the Newton cemetery and another 
one about twelve miles in the country and through the courtesy of Dr. 
Hammer I went there with another old Rebel and others, decorated the 
graves and returned in time to go with the old union soldiers to decorate 
the graves of their dead. 
   I got through with my visit north and returned to my home in Tennessee 
about the 20th of July, 1911. 
   In September, 1911, Dr. Hammer visited me in Tennessee.  I met him in 
Nashville at the state fair and we visited the battleground at Franklin, 
and saw the brick smoke house at the Carter house, which is still standing 
and is kept just as it was when the battle was fought.  It was just behind 
the Yankee breastworks and I think more than a hundred balls struck the 
building, the holes made by the balls being still there. 
   After we had looked over the battlefield we returned to Nashville and 
went out about twelve miles to the Confederate Soldiers Home.  We were 
shown through it and found everything they kept in nice shape and all the 
old Johnnies seemed pleased with their lot. 
   From there we went to "The Hermitage," the home of Andrew Jackson.  I 
had often wished to see the place but I suppose I never would have had 
that pleasure if the Doctor had not just made me go with him, and I was 
glad I went.  There is a family living there that cares for the house and 
shows one all through it for 25 cents.  A notice is put up at every door 
describing what room was ocupied by each of the Jackson family.  There was 
one room that was occupied by Gen. Lafayette when he visited Gen. 
Jackson.  They showed Gen. Jackson's room and Mrs. Jackson's also.  I 
noticed that the bedsteads were old fashioned, very high and the posts 
were big ones, very stylish in their day.  The beds were made up with 
covers on them.  I saw Gen. Jackson's cloak on a rocker in his room. 
   The doors had iron bars to keep one from going in, but one could see 
everything in the rooms from there.  We went into the kitchen with the old 
fire place well filled with wood on the old-fashioned dog irons and there 
was a crane with a pot on it so that one could swing the pot around and 
looked after in cooking.  We saw the barouche or vehicle the General used 
in travelling to Nashville and other places.  It was a very large concern 
and the driver's seat was high up.  We went to the garden where General 
and Mrs. Jackson are buried.  An old negro servant was buried close beside 
them.  A marble slab over his grave told who he was, when he died, etc. 
   Doctor and I never made a visit anywhere that we enjoyed better.  We 
gathered flowers and other relics at the grave as souvenirs.  This would 
be a fine trip for anyone who has never been out there.  This ends my 
story. 
Respectfully, 
R.C. CARDEN