The Confederate Memoir of William M.

Abernathy

Edited and with Notes by

John W. Hoopes
Christopher (Kit) Mott Camp 1379, SCV

2002 John W. Hoopes


Foreword

In 1902, my great-great grandfather wrote a memoir of his experiences as a Confederate soldier at
the request of his friend and fellow veteran, the Honorable C.C. Cummings of Ft. Worth, Texas, for
several terms a historian of the Texas State Division of the Confederate Veterans. His account de-
scribes his service throughout the entire war, from his enlistment (at the age of 17) in April 1861 to
his presence at the surrender in April 1865. It tells the story of a common foot soldier, describing
his life as a private in one of the most valiant units of the Confederacy. It is especially rich in names
and details of the men he knew and fought beside in what must have been a true coming of age.
William Billy Meshack Abernathy was born to David Addison and Frances Jane Franklin Ab-
ernethy in Surry Co., North Carolina on November 27, 1843. His maternal grandfather was Me-
shack Franklin (1772-1839), a U.S. Congressman under Jefferson and Madison, and his great-uncle
Jesse Franklin was a U.S. Senator and former Governor of North Carolina. (The Surry County His-
torical Society has restored the Edwards-Franklin House, the plantation home where he was born,)
Around 1850, the Abernathy family moved to Early Grove, a prosperous plantation community in
Marshall Co., Mississippi.
Billy Abernathy served as a Private in Company B, the "Mississippi Rangers", of the 17
th
Missis-
sippi Regiment, Barksdale's Brigade, McLaw's Division, Longstreet's Corps, Army of Northern Vir-
ginia, General Robert E. Lee, Commander. Although wounded six times, he served continuously
from the start to the end of the conflict--accompanied throughout by his faithful body servant, Si-
mon. Billys last military service was as a courier at the headquarters of General Longstreet. He car-
ried Longstreet's last dispatch to General Lee and was present at the surrender at Appomattox, Vir-
ginia. He and Simon were the sole representatives of the original mess of twelve men.
After the war, Abernathy returned to Mississippi; attended the University of Mississippi at Ox-
ford, and taught school for a number of years. In 1871 he received a degree in law from Cumber-
land University and opened a practice in Ashland, Mississippi. On Oct. 23, 1873 he married Lucy
Anderson Roberts of Holly Springs, Mississippi. In 1877, they moved with two small children to
McKinney, Collin Co., Texas. They settled on a small farm north of the McKinney square, where
five other children were born. Abernathy began the practice of law and, with his brother, estab-
lished one of the most prominent firms in north Texas. His son, William R., and grandson William
P., continued the firm, now the oldest in the state of Texas. In 1887, they moved to 507 W. Virginia
St., now part of a National Historic District in McKinney.
Abernathy was an organizer and early chief of the McKinney Volunteer Fire Department and
served as president of the State of Texas Fireman's Association. A prominent Mason, he held many
high offices in the lodge at McKinney. Throughout his life, he remained devoted to honoring his
fellow Confederate veterans, attending reunions and funerals. This memoir of his experiences in the
war was dictated in 1902 in the form of a letter to his messmate Cul Cummings. My grandmother
Lucy Thompson Burkett and cousins Edward Browne (also a member of Kit Mott Camp 1379) and
Ann Cooper first published it privately as Our Mess: Southern Gallantry and Privations (McKintex Press,
1977). This new version is also based on the original typescript, with minor corrections.
Billy Abernathy died at his home on August 8, 1911 and was buried in Pecan Grove Cemetery in
McKinney. Judge Cummings later reminisced: We stood together on that fatal 2nd of July 1863,
looking down into the valley of death in the Peach Orchard at Gettysburg from 8 o'clock in the
morning till about 4 p.m. in the afternoon, on Seminary Ridge, awaiting the order to rush down on
Sickles with his bloody angle of 10,000 men in blue with munitions of artillery and all the latest im-
proved arms, which our single thin gray line was ordered to break and did break and scatter, but at a
cost of 275 of the 418 men in ranks of our regiment Billy was well known to Marse Robert as one
of his last trusted couriers and his children will certainly cherish this noble example of so worthy a
sire as one so near to the greatest commander in all the annals of history for ability and mortality and
humanity.

*****

McKinney, Texas
June 1, 1902

Cul Cummings
Fort Worth, Texas

You have often importuned me, friend Cul, to sketch the fortune of our old mess, and as it will
take you as long to read it as for me to write, and as I rather think it is a duty, as well as a pleasure, I
shall do the best I can.

Two Revolutionary Patriots

During the Revolutionary war there lived on the head waters of the Yadkin River, Jesse Franklin
and Meshack Franklin, both of whom were Whigs and both of them fought on the side of the Revo-
lutionary soldiers and were with Cleveland, their brother-in-law, at the Battle of King's Mountain.
After the close of the war they were each members of the United States Congress while it held its
sessions in Philadelphia, and Jesse was Governor of the State of North Carolina.
They were ardent friends of Sevier, who founded the State of Franklin, and who, notwithstanding
President Roosevelt's assertation, named the new state Franklin in honor of these two men.

Settled in Mississippi in 1850

The descendants of Meshack Franklin all moved to North Mississippi and settled at Early Grove,
Mississippi, before or about the year 1850.
They built an Episcopal Church there of brick and furnished it nicely; erected a parsonage of
brick and equipped it to receive boarders, a goodly number of young men. They then built a fine
brick school building and established a first-class Academy.
Some of them, being of the Methodist persuasion, they also constructed a fine brick Methodist
Church and furnished it, and finally they endowed the Episcopal Church with a half section of land.

Typical Ante-Bellum Plantations

It was an ideal country settlement, surrounded by planters in opulent circumstances, owning
plantations and slaves, ah of them connected and ah living in almost princely style; slaves to wait on
and black the boys' boots, catch and saddle the boys' ponies, attend them everywhere, coming and
going at the beck and call of their young masters.
Their homes retired from the public road, broad verandas, massive columns, two-story residenc-
es, halls usually going both ways through the building - the home of Dr. Cummings, your father, a
good type, approached by winding avenues, flanked on each side by poplars a mile in length; back of
the old home the Negro quarters stretched in a long row, well beaten in front, where they gathered
at night and "Cut the Pigeon Wing" and jumped to the "Double Shuffle."

Holly Springs Company Organized

In politics, as in religion, they differed; some were democrats, others Whigs.
When Lincoln was elected some were Secessionists, some were Unionists, but when Lincoln
called for volunteers to coerce the South, they were all Confederates, and the guns of Fort Sumpter
enlisted the following young men who joined the Mississippi Rangers, a company organized at Holly
Springs:
Columbus Franklin, Gideon E. Thurmond, Jesse D. Franklin, Jesse H. Franklin, James Franklin,
James Ramseur, Cul Cummings, John P. Pool, Meshack Franklin, William M. Abernathy, Gideon
Wellborn and Wess Tucker.
They were all Franklins, nine. The parents of G. E. Thurmond and his brother, Columbus
Thurmond, died about 1857, and the boys were taken by my mother, who was a Franklin and their
aunt, to be raised.
There was something peculiarly attractive in Ed Thurmond. More than forty years after this, the
closing years of my loved mother were gladdened and refreshed by the scenes and incidents when he
was her boy along with her rattling brood of noisy ones. So true, it is, the old live in the past, and the
young delight twice!

Only One Married in Company

Columbus Franklin was the only married man in a company of one hundred and thirty. The reg-
iment was organized at Corinth, Mississippi. W. S. Featherston was elected Colonel. John McGuirk
was elected Lieutenant-Colonel. Columbus Franklin was made Captain of the Company, and Gide-
on E. Thurmond was made First Lieutenant.
And right here I step aside to remark that Ed Thurmond was the only man that I ever knew dur-
ing the War who never tired his Company while drilling them. No matter how hot the sun, or no
matter how long they were held, his men never wearied under his command. A devoted, gallant sol-
dier - I shall speak of him later in recording a noble man.

Our Equipment

It was a joyous, jolly set of boys, singing a song merry as the war was long. As for arms, they had
muskets with buck and ball. Every man had one of these big pistols, a bowie knife. Every Mess had
a camp chest, table cloth, knives and forks. We had three servants. We had a few "biled shirts," but
most of the boys aped soldiers and the uniform was of blue flannel shirts, as a distinctive mark of a
Mississippi Ranger, and we did not think we were "dressed-up" unless we had that blue shirt on.
The blue then came in holiday attire. About the close of the war the blue then looked a little black.

First Baptism of Fire

The regiment remained but a few weeks at Corinth, and then to Virginia, and up to Manassas,
and there on the l7th day of July, Just three days before the battle, it got its baptism of fire at Black-
burn's ford. From movements of the enemy it was then judged that the attack would be made on
the right wing of the Confederate Army, and the boys rejoined therefore at being stationed on that
wing; contrary to expectation, however, McDowell crossed Bull Run on the North and West, and
the battle was fought on that wing.
The Brigade had for its Commander a Martinet - that is, he believed that salvation of the troops
depended upon the fact that there was an officer alive to command them, so he stationed himself
about three hundred yards in the rear behind a Poplar tree.
Late in the evening the boys got restive and John McGuirk ordered them to Bull Run to make an
attack on the retreating Federals, Couriers that came hunting the Commander could nowhere find
him. Finally John McGuirk ordered them back across the stream and they proceeded to demonstrate
their qualifications to belong to the Army in Flanders.
Ed Thurmond led his Company back and made an attack for which he was later honored.
However, in a week or so afterwards the Brigade was sent up to Leesburg, about thirty miles
North of Washington; (by the way, Leesburg is in God's country, and the boys, still having their Ne-
groes and having their camp chests and plenty of money, lived on the best of the land.)
In early October the Commander General Stone sent Col. Ed Baker with a strong force to Balls
Bluff, and a strong force also to Edwards Ferry. Most of the regiment was sent to oppose the troops
crossing at Edwards Ferry.

In Front of Leesburg

The Seventeenth and a part of the Thirteenth were retained in front of Leesburg and engaged
two Massachusetts Regiments and the California regiment, raised in Philadelphia, commanded by
Col. Baker, formerly of California, they soon found out what real fighting was. During the fighting
Lieutenant Thurmond made a daring scout in front and directed the fire of the regiment, finally re-
porting to General Featherston (Old Sweat), who gave an order that could have been heard two
miles: "Mississippians forward, charge, drive the Damn Yankees into the Potomac or into Hell!"
After the war Featherston got religion and somehow modified that order. "I never said it, he
says, "that way." But whenever he was talking with an old Seventeenth man he always winked, and
all I can say is, I hope the Recording Angel got the revised version.

A Bayonet Charge

Well, at them the Regiment went with the bayonets. It was thickly wooded and the Yankees re-
treated back under the bluff on the banks of the Potomac, then the boys stood on the banks above
and "gave it to them."
It was a terrible thing, Yankees crowding, trying to cross the river, swamping their boats, shout-
ing and crying in terror, and the Confederates standing on the bluff and yelling like demons. Just
about this time, to add more to the fury of the contest, a company of Yankees came at a double
quick around the hill with fixed bayonets, corning directly at the Rangers, paying no heed to any-
thing. Their Captain grasped the collar of our Captain and ordered the Company to surrender. Just
at this moment ours gave the order to fire, and when the smoke cleared, not a single Yankee was
alive - every man of them killed by a single discharge. And Wess Tucker, one of the mess, had
knocked the Yankee Captain in the head, and he too had gone leading his company across the river.
1


In Winter Quarters

After the battle the Regiment remained there during the winter. I was the only man in the Com-
pany that did not have a sweetheart, and the only reason I can give was that I was not old enough.
There was Cul Cummings swearing he "was going back and live there after this cruel war was over.
"

There was Jesse D. Franklin, who picked out where he intended to live when the war was over, and
so did Jesse H. Franklin. I'll not tell on John Harris for the reason that he is not married yet.
The boys did have a fine time at Leesburg, and no mistake, but in the early spring McClellan had
moved down to the peninsula at Yorktown, and the boys were withdrawn from Leesburg, and
marching through Manassas they began to find knapsacks, pistols, table ware, too heavy, and so
when they got to Richmond everything like that vent into the Mississippi homes to be seen no more
forever.
We parted company with everything like that, and down through Virginia literally the boys went,
and took position near Yorktown, under Magruders Dam No. 10 was what they called it, though
that was not the number that it deserved. There was mud and water, and water and mud. The boys
actually vent through Virginia when they stood still any length of time. General Johnson began his
Fabian tactics and the regiment soon found itself with the balance of the Brigade and some of Gen.
Jubal Early's Brigades.
After the balance of the army had gotten out of the way the Mississippi Brigade took up the line
of March and was passing through the streets of Old Williamsburg, the old capitol of Virginia, when
sudden tiring began back of the command. It seems that old Jubal Early exercising that contrariness
that always marked him couldn't leave without a fight, and so he managed to bring one on.

A Flaxen-haired Girl

When it opened, a fair, flaxen-haired girl ran out and appealed to the boys to go back. "Didn't
we hear the firing? Then back if our officers wouldn't lead us, she would." General Griffith, ambi-
tious and chivalrous beyond measure, rode on at the head of the brigade, but Cul Cummings, always
a lover of the women, and whom a woman's apron string could lead to Heaven or to Hell, sprang
out and called for volunteers to go back, but we were soldiers, and were beginning to learn that there
were officers in command, and forward we went, and we hadn't gone far before a courier came
dashing through the mud, and the order was given "About face" and back we vent on a run, and this
time officers and men went shouting toward the firing, and the little girl ran out waving high her
bonnet, greeted with yells and cheers.
2

That little trouble over, on we vent up to Richmond and there the Regiment settled behind the
fortifications until some time in May when there came a freshet.
Part of McClellan's army had crossed to the North side of the Chickahominy and part was on the
South side, and in that condition the Confederates gave them battle. For a while the conflict was
desperate.


1
J ames Morgan of Leesburg has identified this regiment as one of two companies of the 42nd New York, the Tam-
many Regiment. The Yankee officer was most likely Capt. Michael Gerety.
2
C.C. Cummings colorful account of this incident appeared in Confederate Veteran Magazine, March 1896, Vol.
IV, Issue 91.
Death of Brig. Gen. Griffith

Street cars now run out and cross over the ground where men engaged with frantic shout, in
deafening huzzas, amid the roar of artillery and the rattle of musketry, in mortal combat, here ad-
vancing to the splendor of glorious manhood, ambitious and proud as Lucifer, glorious in his cour-
age and in the strength and power of manhood, our gallant Brigadier Griffith fell from his horse and
even in the agony of death one could read on his face how bitter and disappointed it was for him to
die. He was a glorious soldier, his was an ambitious life, and even when in the midst of death and of
carnage he could but look forward to the day when he would lead a greater host in battle.
It was after we left Williamsburg and before we got up to Richmond that the boys got the old
woman's cabbage, and the old woman had more money than she ever had in her life before; the
Richmond Howitzers were along there, too. None of the boys failed to stop, and the old lady heard
more "I ain
'
t had nothing to eat for three days" than she ever heard before.

Feeling the Enemy

It was here that Joe Johnson ordered General Hood commanding Hood's brigade to sort of "feel
"
of the enemy and the Mississippi Brigade to support him. When Hood got through "feeling" the
Yanks had been driven about two and one-half miles and were utterly scattered. This was no part of
Joe Johnson's program and he got mad at Hood about his way of
"
feeling." Hood's excuse was
"General, that is the way I learned to feel of the country girls, but the blamed Yankees wouldn't hold
still."

Lee Assumes Command

Seven Pines was gallantly fought and bloody. The only providential thing about it was that Joe
Johnson was wounded and there came to command us Robert E. Lee, "Glorious Marse Robert" the
peerless soldier, the noblest gentleman, the best and noblest soldier of them all. Lee assumed com-
mand on the 3rd of June 1862, and held it until Appomattox.
The day had come and now was, when under the leadership of Glorious Marse Robert service in
the army meant devotion to duty and readiness to do and dare ah that man could do, sacrifice of
self, for the good of country. It was akin to this principle permeating the army that later on, when
the army was reduced to scanty rations, that at the call of our glorious chieftain, with one accord
every regiment in lee's glorious army gave up its rations to be distributed among the poor of Freder-
icksburg, and for one day his starving thousands went without a crust of bread or a bite of meat to
the end that the suffering poor of the city should have something to relieve them. And it was a de-
votion to duty inspired by the personality of this glorious man that caused his legions to cling to
their lines until even the bullets from the foe cut down trees the size of one's body.
(It was at Spottsylvania that the bullets of the Yankees cut down a tree the size of one's body, and
it fell among the right wing of McGowan's South Carolina Brigade, and the Old Seventeenth Missis-
sippi Colonel Featherston commanding.)
The inspiration and ability of lee thrilled his troops then and continued, and will continue until
time itself shall be no more.
But the day was coming and was when service in the army of northern Virginia was earnest and
was real. Stonewall Jackson had won imperishable honor in the valley. With it, however, the Missis-
sippi Brigade had no connection, and now Lee called Stonewall from the valley to take part in the
attack on McClellan.

McClellan's Well-equipped Army

McClellan, with an army largely superior to that of Lee's, had enveloped Richmond and was mak-
ing gradual approaches, when the latter called Jackson to come from the valley. It was the intention
and expectation that Jackson would come from the valley North of Richmond and pass to the rear
of McClellan's army and flanking out of his entrenchment, but Jackson was unaccountably late, and
the Confederates were compelled to make a direct attack, in the place of the flank attack planned by
General Lee and to be made by Jackson.
A direct assault was made, and there in the afternoon late began the seven days fighting around
Richmond, and during this time the roar of artillery never stopped, the rattle of musketry never
ceased.
At Beaver Dam station, Ellison's Mill, Gaines Mill, Savage Station, Frazier's Farm, at Glen Dale
and at Malvern Hill, the titanic struggle continued.
Jackson's evil star was in the ascendants. Never before and never after had he fallen behind. It is
to others, however, this matter will be left.
It was just after we crossed Chickahominy that the Richmond Howitzers, an aristocratic artillery,
crossed the Chickahominy and went into the fight. As the battery ascended the rising ground from
the river it was ordered into battle and open fire.
It was a grand and inspiring sight, with horses at a dead run, commoners at their places, officers
riding at full speed; each gun took its place with the precision of a drill, unlimbered guns, placed the
caissons into position and opened fire, and we madly cheering.
It so happened that the Mississippi Brigade had preceded them, and the Battery passed the Bri-
gade on the run, and how we did cheer them as they went into action. By the way, that battery of
Richmond Howitzers was a glorious body of soldiers, ever ready, always full of life, fun and of fight.
It was our pleasure and our pride to be with them during the entire war.
I never meet one without being ready and willing to doff my hat to a gallant soldier.

Plan of Battle

It had been the plan of battle that Longstreet should attack directly in front, and that Jackson,
crossing the river below, should ascend and take the enemy in flank, after the Howitzers had been
engaged in the hot artillery fight. The Brigade was ordered forward, and 500n after passing through
the Howitzers, the Brigade became engaged with what afterwards proved to be Sykes Regulars.
Somebody familiar with the plan of operations passed the word along the line that we were firing
into Jackson's men and then came orders to cease firing and lie down, but Jackson had failed to
come. Far away he was still building a bridge to cross the Chickahominy and take part, as lee had
planned, In the fierce struggle, and the Brigade was lying on the ground sheltering itself as best it
could from the destructive fire of the enemy, without returning a shot. That was at Savage Station
on the 29th of June 1862.
Of all the trying situations, lying flat on the ground, taking the fire of the enemy, without return-
ing a shot, is the severest test of manhood. Fancy it - now and then a shot would strike a soldier in
the heart - a quiver, and all was over. Another might sing out "Oh, God, I'm killed."' And yet unable
to return a shot in answer to the destructive fire. It was terrible - trying.
After what seemed an age, Lieutenant Thurmond, of the Rangers, crawled forward, found out
that they were the enemy, returned and gave the order "Commence firing" and the boys were good
and ready.
McCall's and Sykes' divisions were literally destroyed, and but for Jackson's delay, McClellan's
army would that night have passed into history, and Lee would have been Commander of an army
without an opponent. I mention this, not because it is a pleasure to speak of the dereliction of Jack-
son, but I am now writing of the boys with whom I served, and 1 would be recreant to my duty, if,
with the memory of the men who lay there on that fatal field and took the fire of an enemy, without
returning it, shuddered and died, did I not mention it.

Malvern Hill Next

Malvern Hill followed next, the 2nd of July, and McClellan, under the shelter of his gunboat thir-
ty-two miles away, breathed for the first time a little easy. It was never Lee's disposition to harp or
complain.
McClellan began to move his troops to assist Pope away North on the Chickahominy.
It was at Yorktown, before falling back on the Chickahominy, that the reorganization took place
as the terms of the enlistment of the first troops had expired.

Captain Columbus Franklin

Columbus Franklin was elected Captain of the Rangers and Lieutenant Columbus Thurmond
failed to be re-elected and was transferred to John H. Morgan's Regiment. He went with Morgan on
the raid in Kentucky, was wounded at Cynthians and from this wound lingered a while and died.
It was after this that Gid Wellborn was discharged for inability to serve. Of all the kind, lovable
gentlemen, I believe that Gid was the noblest specimen. With a quiet humor, his quaint sayings,
droll expressions, consideration for the feelings and thoughts of others, made him, as we say in the
Episcopal Prayer Book "dearly beloved to all." Gid had asthma, rheumatism, trouble with his
breathing and other kindred ailments, and yet with all these, there was never a murmur; there never
came from him any complaint. He was afterwards enlisted in the l8th Mississippi Calvary, and in
that organization came out unhurt, but all the same he exemplified the bravest of the gentlest.
While McClellan and Lee were engaged in the struggle around Richmond the Federal General
Pope, who boasted that he had never seen anything but the backs of his foes, was organizing an ar-
my on the Rapidan to move on Richmond. He had assembled a large army, and when McClellan
had been driven down on the James, Lee at once set his troops in motion to encounter Pope, and at
the same time McClellan started with his troops with transports to transfer them by water to the as-
sistance of Pope. It was a race between the two armies - Lee to reach and attack Pope and McClel-
lan to support him. It was a rapid, ceaseless march. "Hurry men, hurry" was the continual cry.
"Close up, close up
"
continually sounded along the lines. It was tramp, tramp, tramp all day long
until the tired soldier late at night sank by the roadside and dreamless sleep wrought oblivion, until
in the gray dawn of another day, the drums beat for another hurrying march. Commissary wagons
were left far behind, and green corn for breakfast and greener apples for supper was all the boys
could get. Even the Cavalry failed to keep pace with the rapid ceaseless hurry of Lee's Legions mov-
ing to attack Pope.

Where Pope Saw Their Faces

The first clash occurred between Jackson commanding the advance of Lee's army and Pope's
command at Cedar Mountain, when Pope had the satisfaction of seeing the faces of his foes, and
they looked at the backs of his retreating troops. Pope crossed the Rappahannock (Hedgman) and
called frantically for McClellan's support.
The next day Jackson advanced to the Hedgman River, closely followed by Longstreet's advance,
(here the roads are near the Blood Ridge) that night, the sequence of all heavy battles followed. Tor-
rential rains fell, and when morning came the mountain streams had swelled the river until it was an
inland sea. T'was no time for delay and Jackson set out to cross the Blue Ridge, pass up the west
side of the mountain, cross over to Manassas sixty miles away, and again the same racing, rapid,
ceaseless march was on.
Longstreet remained one day and then set out over the same route. Jackson made the march of
sixty miles in two days. Longstreet, when he reached Thoroughfare Gap, found it occupied by the
enemy. Hood's Brigade climbed the mountains beside the pass while another Brigade moved to the
assault, and with scarcely a halt the Federals were driven from the passes.
When Longstreet reached the Eastern side of the mountain in the distance could be seen the
smoke of bursting shells and could be heard the faint boom of artillery, it was Pope trying to crush
Jackson ere Longstreet came. And then began a race against time; in fearful reality Longstreet's men
hurried, every step quickened by the sound of the guns, every movement responding to the sound of
the battle. When his advance reached Jackson some of Jackson's Brigades stationed along the rail-
road cut (close to Manassas) were fighting without a single cartridge. Ah! but they were gallant sol-
diers, and were they glad to see their comrades and the glad shout "Longstreet Has Come"

ran along
the lines?
Tis no wonder that those endured the toil, suffered the hardships and stood shoulder to shoulder
under such circumstances as these loved to meet each other.

"My Maryland"

The Mississippi Brigade to which I belonged had but little to do with the fierce and bloody
fighting which followed. It passed on up crossing the Potomac and advanced on Maryland Heights.
When we crossed the Potomac River we followed the Methodist preacher's injunction to Bed Brace.
You know the old preacher at the revival said that God gave everybody a voice that he might sing -
Ned took the preacher at his word and when the old man lined out two lines like they used to do
when we were boys, Ned let out his voice. The old fellow made a grimace but lined out the next
two, and Ned led out again. When the second stanza was sung the old man couldn't stand it. "Some
people the Lord has not given voices to sing and they were not expected to "jine in." So, when we
crossed the river everybody was singing the old song:

"The despot's heel is on they shore,
Maryland, my Maryland!
His torch is at they temple door,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flow
'
d the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle Queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Hark! To a wandering son's appeal,
Maryland! My Maryland!
My mother state, to thee I kneel,
Maryland! My Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal,
They Priceless chivalry reveal,
And gird they beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland! My Maryland!"

Confederate Privations

Twelve thousand Federal troops had been left at Harper's Ferry on the Potomac River at the
junction of the Shenandoah with the Potomac River. And General Lee determined to make an effort
to capture these troops so McLaws, our division, passed on, crossing the river and moving to attack
Maryland Heights. Jackson's command was to move on the place between the Shenandoah and the
Potomac River on the West. While Walker's division was to move on London Heights, which filled
the space between the Shenandoah River and the Potomac on the East, the Mississippi and the
South Carolina Brigades were directed to take Maryland Heights by storm. The two Georgia Bri-
gades were directed to occupy Crampton and Turner's Gap to keep back McClellan's advance.
It was a risky, dangerous move; the Mississippi Brigade leading the troops started to climb the
mountain. Soon after the fighting began a Federal soldier was shot. "Boys, I guess for his breeches"
sung out Scott Lynch, and I guess for his shoes" yelled Jim Ramseur, and the two pushed on ahead.
At the time, if Adam in the Garden of Eden did not have any more clothes than Scott Lynch he
would have blushed in his modesty. When the Regiment reached the two, Scott Lynch had already
pulled on the man' s breeches, and Jim Ramseur was tugging at his boots. They did not wait for a
fit.
I marched beside Scott Lynch, but a few days after, when every step he took was marked with
blood, and one year later, at Gettysburg, Scott Lynch got a wound which twenty-three years after-
wards caused his leg to be amputated, and he is now at Asheville, North Carolina, with his happy
family, singing songs merry as a lark.
And at the same battle, Gettysburg, Jim Ramseur, with a shot square through his mouth, unable
to speak, a sword in his right hand, his left hand shattered, holding the brim of his hat, with his
thumb and forefinger, was waving the boys forward.
Of course, we took the Yankees and then another hurried march to Sharpsburg - by all odds, the
hardest fought battle of the var.

Hardest Fought Battle

An unfortunate controversy, scarcely creditable to those who participated in it, has arisen over
the finding of Lee's lost order. It seems that when Lee issued orders to his troops to concentrate
around Harper
'
s Ferry that a copy of this order fell into McClellan's hands. Seeing the position of the
troops of Lee, McClellan rushed his men to the fighting before Lee could concentrate. This contro-
versy has been participated in by some of the general officers. I am, however, talking of the boys
who carried the muskets, and it was theirs to do and theirs to die.
After the capture of Harper's Ferry, and the pushing of Lee by McClellan, the troops engaged at
Harper
'
s Ferry started on the run for Sharpsburg. Jackson, being South of the Potomac, left first,
reaching Sharpsburg on the night of the l6th day of September. The Federal troops having gotten
between McLaws' division and Lee's command, McLaws had to cross the Potomac and follow in
Jackson's footsteps. All the same he went on a run, too, halting some miles from Sharpsburg, resum-
ing his run the next morning. As the regiment passed a little Hamlet on the Maryland side, an old
lady gave the boys this kind of a blessing: "YOU dear dirty ragged souls you." And there wasn't a
word amiss in the blessing.
Before dawn the carnage had begun. Heavy masses of Federal troops before daylight were
thrown fiercely upon Hood and his Grand Division. Back and forth the lines wavered until Jackson
threw his troops into the lead, and again the Confederates gave ground. Nearly sixty thousand feder-
al soldiers had been thrown upon less than ten thousand Confederates, and John Sedgwick crossed
the Antietam and hurried to the support of the Federals. Soon after he came on the battle field
around the old Dunkerd Church, McLaws' troops came at a double-quick upon the scene, and
around the peaceful old church the storm of battle in terrible earnestness raged with fearful force,
and Hood's, Jackson
'
s and McLaws troops rallying again to the call of Jackson swept the entire Fed-
eral force from the field. And there was not upon that part of the ground an organized Federal
Command capable of assuming the offense. And before nine o'clock there had been a fearful battle
fought on the left wing. But Richardson, Trench and other General Officers had come and were as-
sailing the Confederate center.
The Confederate line in the center extended a mile or more along a sunken road, and in that
sunken road was Longstreet and D. H. Hill, that stern old Presbyterian fatalist. Here with renewed
vigor the conflict raged. Longstreet himself, the gunners of one of his batteries having been disa-
bled, manned a gun and fought the battle through.
Colonel Cocke, commanding a North Carolina Regiment held his troops in line taking the tire of
the enemy without a shot, holding his troops to meet the advancing enemy with the bayonets. The
slaughter of the Confederates among this portion of the lines, held in position by the stern presence
of Longstreet, was such that blood ran along the lane, and it retains to this day the surname won by
the gallant Confederates, "Bloody Lane."
And now on the right of the Confederate army came in the afternoon another blow, all day long
the Federals had attempted to cross the stream at Burnsides bridge and Bob Toombs, who could
fight as well as talk, had valiantly held Burnsides advance back; late in the afternoon the Federals
managed to cross, steadily drove the Confederates back, step by step, until they reached the edge of
the little town, Sharpsburg, when A. P. Hill, at the head of his troops, in his picturesque red shirt,
leading his division, putting them into line as they ran, appeared upon the scene and with the bayo-
net, charged, drove the Federals back again and then there was quiet, for there was none able to
fight.

Two of our Mess Fell

In this fateful struggle two of the mess vent down, Jesse D. Franklin and Jesse H. Franklin. Jesse
D. Franklin, always lively, always full of life, fun and energy, his was the lips on whom was always a
Jest. Life to him was a comedy, and every sunbeam brought a smile; every moment was a tinkle of
joy. The wounds received that day carried him finally to his grave - not, however, until disabled as
an Infantry soldier, he was transferred to the 18th Mississippi Cavalry and did service as one of For-
est Troopers.
Jesse H. Franklin, a sedate member of the Methodist Church, quiet and composed in all he did,
scarcely ready to smile, though Nestor swore the jests were laughable, ever ready to duty, never
missing a roll call, nor faltering in battle. His injuries were not so severe, but after a weary time at
Point Look-Out he rejoined the Command, only to do down with more severe injuries in the Cam-
paign of 1864 in the Wilderness.
The Master has sounded the last Roll Call for him, and there was none fitter to go and none read-
ier to answer.
It was here another one of the Mess went down in the battle around the old church that men
were wont to preach "Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth Peace, Good Will towards Men."
The army remained around Sharpsburg another day and then back across the Potomac River.
This time they were not singing "Maryland, My Maryland," but it was to the refrain "Carry Me Back
to Old Virginia."

In Hostile Territory

Western Maryland was no sympathizer for the Southerners. It was in this same battle of Sharps-
burg that there was engaged on the Confederate side thirty thousand troops, while McClellan, having
united his army with that of Pope had over one hundred and thirty thousand, you will see that there
was some disparity in number, but then we had Lee.
By slow marches, taking all the time needed, turning now and then to offer battle, the Confeder-
ates marched down to Culpepper Court House, and here they stopped for something over a month,
and they marched through the wilderness, and later to become the scene of several desperate con-
flicts. Down by Chancellors Tavern to Fredericksburg, where on the night of their arrival in a cold
drizzly ram, in November 1862, the old l7th Mississippi Regiment went down into the town and
brought out a large quantity of flour, and only two distinct things I can remember is that the sack of
flour I got hold of was awfully heavy, and that the boys got a canteen of whiskey and I did not take a
drink. After we got the flour out of the city it rained so hard, and freezing too, that we had to stand
the rounds for the reason that we could not kindle fire.

Tobacco for Coffee

The boys here picketed the river, Yanks one side and the Confederates on the other. I was a will-
ful boy, and I got to trading with the Yankees; though I had never seen anything bigger than a mill
pond I shaped a boat, fashioned sails, and sent it across there about two hundred yards wide, laden
with tobacco, and the Yankees on the other side loaded it with coffee and sent the boat back. This
was strictly against orders, and in an effort to catch the boys that did it, Jim Crump, our Command-
ing officer, had roll called in the middle of the day, he got no information.
And thus finally the two armies settled down facing each other across the Rappahannock about
the last week in November 1862, at Fredericksburg, the head of navigation from Chesapeake Bay,
on the North side of the River. On the North side of the river the hills come down to the water and
overlook completely the South bank of the river by some two hundred feet. The city itself is in a
sweeping bend, and thus dominated, it could not have been held successfully against the other side.
And so the citizens had been warned that when two pieces of artillery were fired from these hills
they were at once to vacate. Barksdale Brigade of Mississippians on the night of the 10th of Decem-
ber notified the gunners to fire the alarm. Some of the members of the old Mess One had become
acquainted with Mrs. Florence Walker, and when this alarm was given one of them hastened to her
home to pilot her out a part of the way to their camp. South of the river the range of hills is about a
half to a mile and a half from the river. At the time of the alarm snow was on the ground to a depth
of, say half a leg, and that good woman, taking her children with her guide, left home and all she
had, to find refuge from the impending storm. The children were five and seven years old, a boy
and a girl.
The Mississippi Rangers were placed opposite the lower crossing and just in the rear of the revo-
lutionary home of General Mercer, they lay on the crest of the hill in full view of the Yankees. Just
below them there had been made an excavation for a chicken house, and it was occupied. Before
dawn the Confederates opened fire on the Yankees, Working like beavers on their pontoons. The
fire was responded at once by more than seventy pieces of artillery, and all day long the Federal
guns, out of reach of the Mississippi rifles, were trained upon these Mississippians. The land behind
the Mississippians was ploughed by shot and shell, as though a disc plough had run over it. Now
and then would come following the bursting shell a cry for water. Every old soldier knows that a cry
for water means that the man has been stricken unto death, and ah day long that winter day, the
11th of December, the dreadful work went on.

An Angel of Mercy

James Franklin, one of the Mess, begged for water, and he was carried from the lines back to the
camp where good, glorious Mrs. Florence Walker, in the soldiers' camp, soothed his last hours, and
with a tin cup, tin plate and knife, assisted one of the boys to dig his grave and bury him, while the
sound of battle was ringing in her ears.
Thirty-three years afterwards that same lad that helped guide her and her children out to the
camp, went back to Fredericksburg and found that in all those years that good, sweet, noble woman
had kept his grave green and had marked it with a marble slab. The Master has since said time had
need for her.
While the battle was raging, Meshack Franklin, another one of the Mess, had his rifle shot in his
hand. At the same moment a shell burst in the hen house under him, and an old hen fluttered up,
and nestled in his lap, but all the same that Mess had no chicken. After the battles were over one of
them said, "Shack, why didn't you put that old hen in your haversack?" "Shucks" his reply was, "Do
you think I am going to get killed and go up to St. Peter's and try to get into Heaven with a stolen
chicken in my haversack?"
While the battle was raging with all its intensity, one of the Mess, Cul Cummings, in going to the
relief of a comrade, performed an act of heroism which was not excelled during the war.
It was no part of Lee
'
s plans to hold the city and prevent the Federals from crossing, but that was
all that Barksdale proposed to do, and it took two or three preemptory orders to force him to leave
the town. The enemy had been prevented from crossing long enough to enable the Confederates to
bring up their forces, and the Mississippi Brigade took its assigned place in line of battle.

Burnside
'
s Assaults

On the l3th of December, Burnside's troops made eleven desperate assaults to drive the Confed-
erates from the stone wall in front of Maryes Heights.
A peculiar incident occurred in connection with the efforts to drive the right Wing of Lee's Ar-
my; a battery of artillery, which had been raised and equipped in Fredericksburg, was stationed on a
little knoll in plain view of their homes in the city. It fought with peculiar intensity, playing upon the
Federal lines and giving shot for shot; every time a gun was fired there came from some one among
its members a shout plainly heard by us a halt a mile away. It became engaged with several batteries,
and held its own splendidly. The boys of the batteries were fighting in sight of their homes. Other
guns took part in this conflict on the Confederate side. Fight developed into a duel between this
Confederate Battery and a Federal Battery; the Confederate Battery bursting a caisson for the Feder-
als, right in the midst of them, scattering them. In a few minutes the Federal battery burst one of
the Confederate caissons, and a return shot from the Confederate burst another caisson, and the
Yankees sullenly retired, and we on the skirmish line sprang to our feet, halt a mile away, and waved
our hats.

A Battlefield Lesson

One of the Rangers got a lesson that day that he will not soon forget. The Yanks had made
charge after charge, and late in the afternoon General Meagher Commanding the Irish Brigade from
New York, took his men out, told them of the Green Emerald, told them of the glories of Old Ire-
land, and that while they did not have the Shamrock, to place in the hat-band of each a sprig of
green, and pointing to the Confederate line, told them to take it or leave the wearers of green nearest
the fold.
It was in vain one of them got within about twenty feet of the line, but the Confederates held
their position and when the attack had ceased a young Confederate crawled out to the front that he
might get some clothing to shield him from the cold wintry blast. He found a young man who had
been properly killed, that is, shot through the head. The Confederate quickly divested him of his
overcoat and proceeded to remove the undercoat. In doing so his hands struck a bible. He had
been taught and believed that Yankees were robbers and vandals, but here was one who went into
battle carrying a bible; and there with the spitting shots going over him he sat down and reached the
conclusion that the other man thought he was right, too. It was a New Yorker's bible, a gift from
his mother, beautifully ornamented. A sweet girl in Fredericksburg has the bible today.

Our Glee Club

The battle of Fredericksburg gave rise to a peculiar melody, a little bit paraphrased: Hark, I hear
a Bomb Shell Sing!
By the way we used to have a Glee Club among us. There was Cul Cummings, a natural born
sweet singer. There was Arch Christy, what the Yankees' bullets left of him is down at Wall Hill,
Marshall County, Mississippi. There was Ed Robinson, the mocking bird of the outfit. Frank Ross,
whose propensity to talk got him the nickname of the Mobile Gas Bag. There was Sel Howell, every
whit as fond of the girls as Cummings was. They used to sing, "Maryland, My Maryland" and there
used to be a song "Cheer, Boys, Cheer."

"Carry Me Back to Old Virginny" used to be right popular
with us, especially about the time we came back from Maryland. It ran something like this:

"Carry me back to Old Virginny,
There's where the cotton and the corn, and tatoes grow,
There's where the birds warble sweet in the springtime,
There's where this old darkey
'
s heart am long'd to go."

They had another one they used to stir up with "I'se Gwine Back to Dixie - No more I'se gwine
to wander."
To us that meant back to North Mississippi. Then there was of course the "Bonnie Blue Flag."
This brings us up to the end of December 1862.

Beginning of 1863

The first of the year 1863 found the two armies fronting each other along the Rappahannock, the
Seventeenth Mississippi, as a reward for its gallantry in holding the city on the 11th of December,
when Burnside first essayed to cross, was complimented in general orders and assigned to Picket
duty along the banks of the river, a company stationed at each picket post. The Rangers had position
at the ferry just North of the old mill on the riverbank.
The winter was unusually severe and winter nights got mighty cold on the riverbank.
It was soon after this that a wave of religious excitement swept over Lee's army; in the City of
Fredericksburg a notable revival was held in old St. George's Episcopal Church.
It was conducted by the Methodist Chaplin of the Seventeenth Mississippi Regiment, Brother
Owen. The singing was managed by a Baptist minister, and a most noted divine of the Presbyterian
Church, Dr. Hogue, of Richmond, Virginia, did the preaching. The celebrated divine is known all
over the Southland, and it goes without saying that the sermons were grand ones. There was a great
upheaval and revival among the soldiers.
Soon after this, along the latter part of winter and the first of spring that General Lee issued an
order from which we make the following extract:

Wild Onions and Polk

"EACH REGIMENT IS DIRECTED TO SEND A DAILY DETAIL TO GATHER WILD
ONIONS AND POLK SPROUTS."
The first man we sent was Cul Cummings, now of Fort Worth, Texas, and he went down about
the old Barnard house and our quarters. When he got back smelled like a Dutch restaurant. Just fan-
cy the commander in chief of a great army sending out his troops by details to gather wild onions.
I must say that Cul did his duty well. Anybody who does not think we did not have much to eat
can form his own conclusion from this. And yet, short as our rations were "Marse Robert"

called
upon us throughout the entire army to give up the rations of one day to the poor of Fredericksburg.
As I remember it, it was on the 18th of April 1863; on that day there was not a bite of meat, a dust
of meal or flour in Lee's army.
The boys just sat around and had time to sit there and prepare for the coming campaign, and for
the battle then about to take place. Some one asked what kind of religion the boys got at the revival.
"I don't know what kind of religion he had, but they had a hell of a fight in them."

Two Recruits

It was about this time that two men joined us. One of them was Sam Webb, and when I tell you
how he came to come, you will know he was from the Forks of Tippah. Sam belonged to a compa-
ny of Cavalry in North Mississippi, which had never smelled gun powder, and Sam, tiring of brush-
ing off his horse, exchanged into our company of infantrymen, so he would not have much trouble
and work to do. Sam never repented coming but once, and that was from the time he joined us up
to the time he was killed.
The other addition was Captain Charles E. Lewis, a member of the Seventh Regiment of Cavalry,
one commanded by Lee and Albert Sidney Johnson.
When Grant invaded Mississippi with the view of attacking Vicksburg from the rear, he moved
down the Mississippi Central Railroad to Oxford, passing through and stopping for a while at Holly
Springs. While here Captain Charles E. Lewis was Provost Marshal. He was an educated, polished
gentleman, courteous and polite to all. He protected the citizens, cut down all marauding, thievery
and misconduct by stragglers.
After Vandern's raid Grant's army returned to Memphis. When his army reached Memphis, Lew-
is was, in military language, sent "To Coventry." He experienced at the hands of the other officers
much neglect and snubbing for his kind and human treatment to the old men and ladies of Holly
Springs. Resenting this he resigned from the United States Army, came South, got letters of intro-
duction from Holly Springs and came to us of the Army of northern Virginia, and became a member
of Mess One. Highly educated, genial, pleasant and agreeable, he remained with us through the
campaign of the First Wilderness, Pennsylvania Campaign, and was killed at Chickamauga. He had a
distressing end, and we had known him less than a year. We had known none of his people. There
was no one to send a dying message to home people, and while there were sympathizing faces
around, he could send no message to any living being, and yet to this point he had been brought by
his humanity and courtesy to southern women.

Fighting Joe Hooker

But war clouds had not gathered around Fredericksburg and fighting Joe Hooker crossed the
Rappahannock River with one hundred and thirty thousand men. While Lee, having sent Longstreet
down into Suffolk with two divisions (Hood
'
s and Pickett's) to gather up supplies, though what in
the name of the Lord he could gather down there to eat except peanuts, Lee remained behind to
fight Hooker.
General Sedgewick crossed below town with forty thousand men and Hooker with his army
above, it was with the two Federal armies thus threatening him that Lee and Jackson held one of the
two conferences, and then Lee and Jackson set out one rapid march to meet Hooker, while our bri-
gade and a few cavalry, less than two thousand, were detached as a forlorn hope to keep Sedgwick's
forty thousand men back. The ratio was sixteen to one and a little bit more. I don't hanker after
that ratio much.

They Shall Not Pass

The program was for Lee and Jackson to meet and. attack Hooker while the Old Mississippi Bri-
gade was to stay in line and die rather than let Sedgwick pass up. We were told of it, advised of the
situation, and that Lee expected the Old Brigade to hold the enemy, and while up at the Wilderness
Lee and Jackson were fighting Hooker to such an extent that for two weeks after the battle
trainloads of wagons, loaded with bullets gathered off the field of battle, came in. The Old Brigade
was desperately holding its lines against the furious assaults of the enemy seeking to help Hooker.
At nightfall Jackson and Lee held another conference, and Jackson set out through the Wilderness
to attack Hooker's right wing. How well he succeeded has been the theme of much song and story,
but meantime, with its ranks fearfully thin and many of its most gallant members wounded, still the
Old Brigade sternly held its lines. It was not until after Hooker had been defeated that one of the
regiments gave away.
In the assaults on the Seventeenth Mississippi Regiment a Federal officer riding a black horse,
with plumed hat and a gay uniform, gallantly led repeated charges. I took three shots at him myself.
I am glad that I don't know that I hit him. Somebody did. And a hero is in one of the graves dug on
a hill which Federal gold earned, which Federal valor could not win. Low and Kincaid and one of
the Blackburns went down here.

Thirty-Three Years Later

Thirty-three years afterwards, John Harris, Billy Phillips, and another one of the boys stood on
the hill overlooking the scene of this fighting. Back of them some sixty yards was an elegant brick
residence, and out of it stepped a brisk, old style Virginia gentleman. He has written a history of
Virginia since. With suave, old-fashioned politeness he accosted the three, when one of them re-
marked that just back of that house was a fine spring of clear water. It had been thirty-three years
since he had been there, but he remembered it, and the old gentleman chuckled with pleasure, "It is
there yet, boys." The other remarked that there was a fine bed of mint there, took, and the old Vir-
ginia gentleman smiled broadly and said, "It is there yet, boys.
"
and added, "Boys, I have got the bot-
tle in the house." And the same length of time that elapsed between the governors of North and
South Carolina did not intervene. And, Cul, "Here's to the health of Colonel Hewison, an old fash-
ioned lovable Virginia gentleman."
But a short interval intervened when we left behind with our Fredericksburg friend tokens of af-
fection and esteem, little keep-sakes made while in camp to while away the weary hours, and on a
hot day in June we started up through the Wilderness across the Rapidan and stopped at Culpepper
Court House. It seemed to be the purpose of Lee to use Stewart's Cavalry as a fringe to prevent the
Federals from discovering the march of his troops, and it was equally their purpose to penetrate his
lines and discover whether infantry was moving or not.
Every day they would attack Stewart
'
s Cavalry and true to their habit of bringing on a fight, and
then getting out, Stewart
'
s Cavalry would give away and we double quick through Culpepper and
along the hot dusty streets to their relief, but it was not any part of Stewart's purpose to have this
and so he rallied the Cavalry and drove the enemy back.
One day they crossed in very heavy force. The Hedgman River drove Stewart's Cavalry back and
we went charging on this hot day in June along the dusty streets of Culpepper to meet the enemy; as
we went double quick along we passed a finely dressed officer, plumed hat, chaplet of flowers on his
horse's neck, one of his shoulders, and a couple tied on his saddle, while in the yard chattering gaily
to him were some dozen or more ladies. And then the talk began "The d--- Cavalry ain't worth a
cuss. All they are fit for is to bring on a fight and run." Those and similar comments were made, at
all of which he laughed, but no more ugly, and on we went hurrying, running something like half of
a mile. We began to meet the Cavalry. Some of them had bloody heads, saber cuts on head and
shoulders and then came the order to halt, and we gathered around the Cavalrymen. "Poor fellow,
horse could not run fast enough." "Say, Mister, if you want to keep out of reach of the Yankees,
you start in time next time." These remarks did not add anything to the Cavalrymen's peace of
mind, and about this time came the order "About Face" and the regiment started back, the band
playing "The girl I left behind me." Soon the word came along the line "Stewart had rallied the Cav-
alry" and sword in hand had driven the enemy back across the river. And About that time we
passed this same officer with the bouquets. It was Stewart. And we began to cheer Jeb Stewart like
mad. And the cavalier soldier wheeled his horse uncovering saluted the passing soldier with a smile.
It was like Stewart, however, in battle, a gallant chivalric soldier devoted to the women in all phases
of life and ready to recognize the Confederates always. Truly, a typical soldier.
We passed on then on the last side of the Blue Ridge Mountains, crossing the Hedgman and on
past, on by the gaps in the mountains on to Upperville. Here the mountain is next the Shenandoah,
and we crossed the river to keep from rolling off the ground into the river, the ground was so steep.
Barksdale, always ready to do something, took Fox Moore up behind him on his horse. The river
there just would come around my mouth, and so I put my gun and cartridge box on top of my head,
and did just like cousin Sally Dillard when she crossed the branch. I just held up my clothes and
waded in. This is a memorable crossing to me. I had to wade that blessed river five times and I got
a mouth full of water every time I waded it, and when I got across the river the only dry thing I had
on me was my cartridge box, and that I had placed on top of my head to weight me down.

Our Menagerie

It was on this march that Frank Ross organized his menagerie. Bill Minns, as his nickname indi-
cated, was
"
Elephant." Jerry Webb (brother of Sam) had received from homefolks a gray Jeans suit
of clothes, cut forked tail, one of the split tailcoats that the boys use now in the ballroom. Jerry had
a habit when his hands were greasy to wipe them off on his coattail. Jerry
'
s natural propensity was to
go half bent, and when his coat tail got stiff with the grease Jerry got the nickname of "Bird of Para-
dise". Sam Webb, from his longneck was a "Giraffe". Cul Cummings, Arch Christie and John
Howell and Ebb Robinson were "mocking birds". Frank Ross and the writer of this article enjoyed
the distinction of being "Monkeys", and I think they fitted their names about as well as any of the
balance.
Ebb Robinson was short and dumpy. In the morning when we started on the hot day
'
s march
Ebb was as gay as a lark and livened things up with songs; about noon Ebb's songs died away, and
when the sun began to decline Ebb started up saying things that would not have entitled him to
membership in the Sunday School.
Jeff Davis would be the first mark and Ebb would say all the mean things he could about him,
and then it was "Marse Robert" and then he would say mean things about "Old Pete" General
Longstreet, and so on down the line, McLaws, Barksdale, and Colonel Holder, and the Captain of
the Company, and then about himself. Oh! but he did wish ~ was Jeff Davis's coachman, and then
he would wish he was a little Negro -- just anything except a soldier, and then a Negro baby, and by
that time everybody and everything around him would be in a titter, and then Ebb would burst out
into a song again, and so the weary days went on.
We passed through Martinsburg and cold comfort we got in that southern town. Auerback
braced up his band, guns went to "right shoulder shift" and to the tune of "The Girl I Left Behind
Me" we marched merrily through that southern town, but few miles and fewer fluttering handker-
chiefs waved us on. Arid over and over and across the Potomac we went on a raw chilly day.

Stimulants Issued

On the North side of the river at Williamsburg, Maryland, a gill of whiskey was issued to each
soldier in McLaw's division, and about a lively set of men as ever tramped up that pike entered
Pennsylvania. Here we encountered nothing but black locks, grumpy faces and absolute indifference.
Orders were strict to stay in ranks, to treat the people courteously, but the commissaries and quarter
masters were lavished of money in buying up and taking charge of supplies; most of the people in
that part of the state seemed to be Dutch, and when we got over to Green Castle we stopped for a
rest. Guards were at once placed around the camps, and nobody allowed to get outside. However,
little Shack Franklin, Company B. Charles A. Cameron, of Company E., and the writer, of Compa-
ny B., who had all been schoolmates and playmates at home, managed to run the blockade and set
out foraging. We had a Martinet for our Colonel, and after we had been out some time, I had made
a raid and little Shack and Charlie Cameron had been up negotiating for some chickens with a Dutch
woman. They had just left us, and coming out had encountered a flock, and were quietly piloting
them away from the house. Shack had picked out the chicken that he thought was about to bite him
and Charlie Cameron could see the bristles rising on another one, when the long roll sounded and
we broke for the camp. Shack's old hen could fly as well as bite, and she flew over his head. Cam-
eron missed his chicken and missed roll call, too. While I went tearing into camp, the guards halted,
but that was no time to swap yarns, and just as my number was called I got close enough to hear it
and answered. "Send all absentees to headquarters and send a detail to guard them" was the order.
It was just my luck to be detailed to guard, and little Shack
'
s and Cameron's luck to get in the guard
house, and I sat there and wrote home telling about my guarding Shack and Cameron, who were
both in the guardhouse for stealing. Little Shack was a Methodist, and lived a consistent Christian
life. Cameron was the son of Captain Evan Cameron who fought for Texas in the war for Inde-
pendence of whom John Henry Brown, in his history of Texas, says "They brought an order from
Santa Anna for immediate execution of Capt. Evan Cameron, and on the morning of the 25th he
was untied from his companion, taken from prison, and received fifteen shots in his breast, which
he bared."

A Gallant Scottish Clan

Captain Cameron was a native of Scotland. He had been the loved and trusted leader of his bank
of rangers, and was the embodiment of the youthful idea of the "Old Scottish Chiefs.
"

After his death his child, Charles A. Cameron, wife and sister, were taken charge of by the Epis-
copal Church, placed at the little town of Early Grove, and were being educated for the ministry.
When the war broke out between the states the young lad was a desk mate of the writer. They all
entered the Confederate army and there they were a few days before the battle of Gettysburg.
At the close of the sanguinary battle, all three of these boys had been wounded. Cameron had
received a shot shattering his hand, one through the side, and his left ankle had been shattered.
Nearly two-thirds of the regiment had been killed or wounded, but they held the field, and soon af-
ter Cameron was carried back he was informed that three sets of brothers, two each, had been mor-
tally wounded - the Ouslers, the Blackburns and the Kincaids, and that the Ousler boys desired to
send a message to their mother and widow and one only sister, who lived among the Magnolias at
Mt. Pleasant, Mississippi.
There was none to carry and help him, and when every yard was a mile, every moment an agony,
and every advance a torture, he worked over rocks, through agonized torture, received the message
from his dying comrades, and prayed with them.
Thirty-three years afterward the writer had a letter from him. His wounds had never healed, his
health broken, his strength gone, and he wanted testimony that he had been a Confederate soldier,
that he might enter a home for the Confederates and wait for the coming of the Master.
He waited but a short while for the end.

Drew our Rations

About noon on the first day of July we drew rations. It was flour and some pretty good beef. We
had, somehow or other, got hold of some lard, and for the only time after it became war, we had
shortened bread.
I was the cook that day. The dough was made up on a rubber cloth tent and I had just turned
out one skillet full of nice brown biscuits and had another skillet and the lid was hot when "Long
Roll" beat and that meant to march. Skillet, and lid was red hot nearly, but it was no time to dally.
It meant a rapid march to the battlefield. I never saw that skillet any more, but the boys do say that
the Eighteenth Mississippi, the thieving Mississippi, Eighteenth Mississippi, got it. You know it was
commonly true that they could steal anything in the commissary line from a red hot skillet to cold
soup with tallow on it, and when we missed anything all we had to do was to go over to the thieving
Eighteenth and get somebody's there. I have tried to get Judge Gerald of Waco, who was Major of
the 18th to return that skillet or its equivalent, but as far as I could get him to commit himself was
something in the nature of a champagne bottle. You know the Judge was a gallant soldier, and I
guess I will have to let it go at that.
Just about the time we got our blankets all rolled up, haversacks, canteens and cartridge boxes all
on and in line, Edward Johnson's division of Jackson's old corps came piling into the road from
some place they ought not to have been, and we lay there waiting for them to pass, and when the
wagon train; piloted by a Dunderhead Major who had less sense and more obstinacy than any army
mule in Longstreet's corps, filed in ahead of us and delayed us for hours, while we lay there and said
soft things about the rations we did not get a chance to coop up, and were delayed from going to the
battlefield. When finally the old idiot did get his wagon train out of the way we set out for Gettys-
burg, twenty-two miles away. Late at night we passed the battlefield on which the two other Missis-
sippi Brigades had fought and greeted old friends as with rapid steps we hurried by.

A Tribute

About two o'clock we lay down for a short rest. Before day we were up and hurrying without halt
until we got within about two hundred yards of General Lee
1
s headquarters, and now, confound
you, I will tell you how I know it was Lee's headquarters. You like to have put me in the guardhouse
for slipping off up there. The Regiment lay there something like two hours when Colonel Johnson
of General Lee
'
s staff rode up to direct us where to take position in battle. We followed him on a
half trot and half walk until we started to cross a high hill. We were then the leading division of
Longstreet's corps, and we were in front. The head of the column came in sight of the Yankee line
and a shot from a battery told us they could see. There was an immediate halt, and true to my in-
stincts, I bolted into a Yankee
'
s barn, and got me some flour. We did not stop long before McLaws,
commanding the division, and Colonel Johnson came back. McLaws was saying things I would not
like to teach my grandson, Dan Thompson, to repeat. The object of the move being to place the
Confederate lines on the left flank of Meade's army.
It was manifest that we would have to turn and go back and follow a ravine which ran parallel
with the Federal line, but General Hood, who had been following us in his impetuous way, had
lapped over and the two divisions were considerably mixed, and so McLaws
'
division was halted and
Hood
'
s division took the lead. That is how Hood's division came to be placed in front of Little
Round top and directed to make the attack through Devil's Den. You and I, my dear sir, would have
faced that problem had the staff officers from General Lee
'
s headquarters been properly advised of
the location of the ground. But after all, Hood's division did not go sufficiently far until after the
battle opened, but that retrograde of the head of the column placed us in the rear of the two divi-
sions and opposite the peach orchard when the attack was made, and now, sir, I want to take you to
task. You are the historian of Texas. You were along; you played a full man's part in that great battle.
You knew we were in front, and you knew that Colonel Johnson of Lee's staff, gave us the order to
move, and guided us to the position we were to take in the battle. You knew the terrible march we
had made the night before. You knew that we got up before day and hurried until we got to Lee's
headquarters, and yet, I have never seen one single word from you in vindication of the greatest
leader in the field of battle the Confederates had.
Longstreet deserved better at the hands of a historian of Texas, and this is written in spirit of cap-
tion. I have seen you on many a battlefield, and I never saw you falter. Aye, I heard your call for
volunteers from your own regiment of infantry to help man the guns of Moody's artillery. I saw
Dundy Gunn and his brother of Company A, Robertson and Mimms of our own Company, and
others spring from the ground arid help to serve the artillery. (It was part of Ewell's corps and its
wagon train that delayed us hours on the march. It was Ewell's corps and Early's division that failed
to occupy Cemetery Heights on the evening of the first, and it was Fitzhugh Lee's Cavalry and Stew-
art who failed to give Lee Warning of the approach of the Federals, and yet, they are the ones who
mainly hounded Longstreet for not attacking earlier on the morning of the second. Mindful of these
things, I can only wonder that a gallant soldier as you were, you have said nothing in praise of your
Commander.)

Gettysburg Incidents

And now of the incidents of the struggle at Gettysburg. The Confederates had driven Meade's
advance back nearly four miles and Meade had taken position on Cemetery Heights throwing a part
of his command forward so as to include the peach orchard, and running back through the wheat
field and beyond Little Round Top. His army faced west and this was his left wing. His right ex-
tended along the range of hills over Culp's Hill, and back again somewhat in the nature of a bent
fishhook, his right wing and his left wing were closer together than other parts of his army some-
thing in the order of a bent semicircle. Hood
'
s division was intended to overlap the southern part of
his line at Little Round Top and to swing around like a gate, and the line of battle as he drove them
in was to advance. We were lying behind Moody's battery, just under a little hill, when General Long
street and McLaws rode up and gave our Brigadier his instructions, that when Hood's division had
driven them until his line was at an angle or forty-five degrees then we were to advance. It was ex-
pected that the Confederates' line of battle would be composed of two lines. Wafford
'
s Georgia Bri-
gade was to support the Mississippi Brigade and Sims (Cobbs) Brigade was to support Kershaw
South Carolina Brigade. Unfortunately, Hood's Brigade did not go sufficiently far to the right and in
the place of enveloping the Federal lines on Little Round Top, the Yanks were beyond them and
Hood had to move to the right, and that left a space between Hood and Kershaw, and when Ker-
shaw moved so as to keep in touch with Hood, Wafford's Georgia in the front line, and that left us
without any support whatever. Hoods division first advanced, driving the enemy steadily back to-
wards and on Little Round Top to Devil's Den, and climbed up the sides of the mountain. Ker-
shaws, Sims and Waffords brigades all went into and through the peach orchard driving the Yan-
kees from Emmittsburg turnpike, and then Meade began to take all the troops from the right Wing
and hurl them upon the two divisions of Longstreet's corp.
As these brigades advanced they were compelled to face the advancing Yankees corning from
almost every direction. One who goes upon the battlefield will see a line of monuments erected by
some grateful northern state to commemorate the valor of its troops. And here the line faced west.
Scarcely turning from his tracks he will see another line of monuments erected by another northern
state to commemorate the valor of its troops, and here the line faces in another direction, and so
again, he will see another line further on facing in another direction. Arid thus it is that on that left
field of the Federal line, without unexampled activity and earnestness, line after line had been
brought from the right Wing of Meade
1
s army to break the attack of the southern warriors. When
the attack finally stopped and Ewell first advanced, he found the enemies' great Works empty. Ah!
But if Ewell had only held Meade's right wing that stern old soldier Longstreet would have swept
every vestige of the Federals from and beyond the Baltimore turnpike.

Our Part in It

We, too, had our part in this fearful struggle. When the time came we went forward and first en-
countered a New Jersey Brigade. Two of the regiments were the 26th and 27th New Jersey. The
grateful state of New Jersey has erected a line of monuments here to commemorate the valor of her
troops. We drove them back through the peach orchard, and on to and among a line of Indiana
troops. The grateful state of Indiana has erected a line of monuments, running through the peach
orchard to commemorate the valor of her troops. We drove those back and on to the New York
Excelsior Brigade, and here another desperate struggle resulted. Here was a battery of artillery, and
around this battery a terrific struggle ensued. Twice we took it, and then on a final charge we ran up
over it. The writer of this article, like the fool that he was, sprang on one of the guns and was shot
off of it, but we held the battery, and then came another effort to retake it, but without avail.
And then came the order "Forward with Bayonets" and over the wheat fields, beyond the Trostle
house and up the sloping sides of Cemetery Heights, nearly a mile, away, the old Mississippi Brigade
crowded three dense lines, New Jersey, Indiana, and New York troops, upon a line of Wisconsin
troops, who had been brought from Culp's Hill far away on the right of the Federal line, and there
the Confederate advance was stopped. Barksdale, chivalric soldier as he was, was killed just as he
gave the order to halt, but the Brigade held the field. Federal bullets had however played sad havoc.
Frank Ross, manager of the circus, was killed in the thickest of the fight with New Jersey, close to
the Emmittsburg turnpike. Billie McRaven, a polished, cultivated gentleman, was struck in the breast
and died in the thickest of the fray with the Indianans. Scott Lynch got hit about the same time.
Charlie Connelly was shot through the body just as the Indiana troops broke and fled. Cul Cum-
mings was hit just as we started. All these were shot close to the writer of this article.

Our Killed and Wounded

With wild yells we went on to the New York Excelsior holding the battery. One of the boys
sprang on a gun and was shot off of it. The New Yorkers, too, gave way, and Fizer on his little
Blaze face bay horse rode along the lines calling the troops to halt and form. The three Brigades,
New Yorkers, Indianas, and New Jerseys had rallied and were coming in solid mass to retake the
gun. Jim Ramseur was shot through the mouth and through the left hand, and there he stood unable
to utter a word or make a sound, waving his old battered hat with his broken hand, and his sword in
the other. Brown, a native of England, but a southerner every inch of him, fell. Billie Gast, another
native of England, stepped up to a little bush, knelt, and placing his gun between the branches of a
bush, took deliberate aim, and fired kneeling. Just as he did so, a bullet struck him square in the
forehead and with a gasp he settled back head on his knees. The writer here got his third bullet. Jim
Crump sprang over him, called for a "forward charge with bayonet" and the line went forward leav-
ing a ghastly row around and about the Federal guns. Arch Lee had run up with the flag of the old
Seventeenth. On it had been embroidered the names of the battles in which it had fought. Manas-
sas, Leesburg, Yorktown, Williamsburg, Seven Pines, Gaines Mill, Savage Station, Frazier's Farm,
Malvern Hill, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and then the cry for another forward movement. The
writer, with the other Confederates, wounded, was carried back to the hospital, and the first man to
find him was his old colored servant, Simon. Ah! but black faces filled with sympathy and love such
as his are sometimes welcome. It has been more than forty-six years since Simon came, but in all
these years I can still see and bring back vividly the picture of that devoted Negro. Time effaces
many things from our memory; care, sorrow and trouble make us forget, but nothing but the com-
ing of the Master shall take the Negro from my recollection.

Many Confederate Wounded Left

Many of the Confederates were left behind when Lee retreated two days after. Those who were
disabled were carried to New York in time to be swapped for able-bodied Yankees. They carried us
through Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. Philadelphia had been the pride of the southern
people; the southern dandy and the southern belle did not think they were well dressed unless they
were clad from the markets of that city of brotherly love. Southern merchants had dealt liberally
with the shopkeepers of that city. It was this city of the American continent, the pride and boast of
all the southern people, and with all the homes of Frank Leslie's periodical.
When they carried us through the city there was nothing but black looks, darker scowls and mut-
tered cursings, and of all the cities on this continent there is more hate, more uncharitableness in
that city than any other place on the American continent.

Ladies Good to Us

They carried us then on to New York. When we got to Newark, New Jersey, the ladies turned
out, brought us linen, gave us jellies, contributed everything in their power to make captivity pleas-
ant, and told us they had no sympathy for the cause in which we were engaged, but they did sympa-
thize with suffering humanity. They have caused me to think that the day will never be too cold, or
the night too dark when I shall not be ready to extend sympathy and help to one from that place.
They carried us to New York harbor, placed us in the hospital and cared for us better than our
own hospitals did. And over at David's Island no man who was there had ever ought to complain,
either of the guards, attendants, or for lack of good food or medicine. To me 'tis a pleasant thing to
be able to recur to the time when, though a prisoner, I received the courtesy and attention due a
man.

Our Exchange

They kept us but a short while, and then exchanged us; with me, and I suppose it was with oth-
ers, on the theory that I would never be worth anything as a soldier, and I rather think it was upon
the principal that was evoked from two old soldiers. We were stripped to wade the Potomac, and
one fellow looked at me and said to the other one "My God, that fellow is a brave man." The other
looked at him and added "Why he is going to risk wading the river on those pipe stems." However
that may be, I was exchanged just before Longstreet went West to Chickamauga. Hood and
McLaws' divisions alone went. They passed through the depots in Virginia and managed to get rid
of their rags and get some good clothes, passing Brag's troops the day the fighting opened, and they
chaffed this western army about this way: "Yes, d___ you, come down here to learn you how to
fight. You just wait and watch us. Marse Robert says we must not let them run you into the Gulf of
Mexico." Arid they would get mad and sass back "You have been fighting these blue Yankees from
the East. Wait until you see these Westerns and then you will see some fighting." Longstreet's men
got a little bit of the best of the chaffing, but at the same time it stirred up both commands, and
when we did get into the battle next day it so happened that the army of the Tennessee, under
Bragg, made the first attack on the Yankees on the right, and all morning they hammered desperate-
ly but failed to drive the Yanks, and then the left wing under Longstreet, the ablest Commander on
the field of battle the Confederates ever had struck the Yankees a crushing blow, driving them in
confusion off the field of battle. After that, Longstreet's men gave the Westerners no peace. "Told
you so, just watch us, and you will learn how to fight after a while maybe. Oh, but we will show you
how it is done."
The truth of the matter is that there were very nearly as many westerners in the Yankee army in
the East as there were in the West. They were less impatient of control than the Easterners were,
and the Eastern Yankee was easier to break, but when his line of battle was broken he would be ral-
lied; but when you broke the lines of a Westerner, the first object seemed to be to get out of the way
and get it clear away.
The Easterners couldn't shoot as well as the Yankee from the West, but he was better drilled. He
would rally quicker and taken all together, history is going to write the Eastern Yankee as the better
soldier of the two. But, Cul, you would have enjoyed poking fun at the western Confederates and
parading your good clothes before him, and especially in telling him that man who could not fight,
and would not fight, need Just the kind of clothes that they had, but then it was safe to keep your
distance when you made a remark like that.

Sent to Knoxville

And then they sent us to Knoxville. We followed Burnside up there and cooped him up in the
forts and sat down to wait, to starve him out. When Bragg and the Westerners were soundly
whipped at Missionary Ridge, the only things that I have to say about that is, the Confederates who
fought in that battle ought to have gone back there after the war and leveled those hills down. They
stand an everlasting monument to mark the spot where brave men did not fight. There is no reason
on earth for Bragg's army being driven from that position, and the only explanation brings a blush
of shame for being driven from those hills.
The defeat of Bragg at Missionary Ridge was followed by Grant's sending Sherman to re-enforce
Burnside, and Longstreet decided to attack the fort and the Old Seventeenth was in the thick of the
charge. The old flag was planted by Lum Morphis on the rampart of the fort.
3
Little Shack Frank-
lin, active, vigorous and strong, climbed up beside him. There was mud and water in the ditch. The
edges of the earthwork were frozen and slippery and the boys simply could not climb up. The Yan-
kees were driven away. Here John Pool, one of our messmates who declared he never knew how he
loved mother earth until the Yankees got to shooting at him and he hugged his mother earth. He
was killed right in the ditch.

Repented, I said it

After it was over, Jim Crawford gave me a devilish good beating. Jim had jumped into the ditch
in the mud. His shoes did not fit him and they came off in the slush and mud, and Jim came out
practically bare-footed. With my usual propensity to say things and then wish I had not, I spoke to
him about how much faster a man could run barefooted than he could with shoes on. Now fancy
me saying that to Crawford, one of the litter corps.
When we took our position in front of Petersburg, the Yankees were about 70 or 75 yards from
us. We had pickets in front of the works about 15 or 20 steps. They were sheltered by holes dug in
the ground. One morning one of the men in one of the holes called back that his comrade was
wounded. He was told that the wounded man would have to stay there until night. He answered
back "he is bleeding to death." We sprang to the breastwork. Jim Crawford and Bill Echols grabbed
the litter, sprang over our works and under cover of our guns, ran to the place, placed him in the
litter and brought him out, and yet that is the man I made fun of for running out of his shoes. For
cool courage, gallantry in action, and all that went to make up a heroic soldier, Jim Crawford and Bill
Echols were redheaded men of the Old Seventeenth. No better men. Both of them have now
ceased from their labors and are at rest.

Winter of 1863-64

The winter of '63 and '64 was very unsatisfactory. Many of the inhabitants of that country were
union people. Besides Wheeler's Cavalry had operated in there and they seemed possessed of the
idea that nothing was too good for a Confederate soldier, and that a man who did not give up every-
thing he had was not loyal anyhow to the Confederacy, while there were many good true southern
people in that country too many of them judged harshly the wearers of the gray. The Cavalry had
been a little too free to see what they needed and to take what they wanted. The condition of that
country and of the people made the country seem to them like it did. Forest and Morgan and oth-
ers, when they called upon London C. Haynes to respond to the toast over at Hernando, Mississippi
"East Tennessee, the land of the God forsaken."
My mother spent her girlhood days on the banks of the Yadkin River, and along the smooth
French Broad. She loved to speak of the beauties of that country, and I feel like here quoting the
words of the gifted east Tennesseean.

3
This flag may be the same one captured at Fort Sanders in Knoxville by a member of the 29
th
Massachusetts Infan-
try. It has been preserved in the Mississippi Department of Archives and History, thanks to the efforts of SCV
members.
It was some time prior to this as I remember that "Old Mess One" and "Mess Nine" consolidat-
ed. There occurs to my mind just now, of those of the Old Chulahoma Mess, who came with us,
the following: Billie Mimms, tall, angular, full of all the quiet humor that belongs to man, steady as a
rock and reliable everywhere. His services commenced at Manassas, and ended at Sailor's Creek.
Always ready, always at his post, always hungry, and never with a good suit of clothes on, there was
no soldier in Lee's army who excelled him in the manly qualities. He, too, fills a soldier
1
s grave.
Another was W. J. Phillips, pleasant, genial; I have to bear him kindly remembrance, for he helped
carry me on his back off the battlefield.
At Knoxville, East Tennessee, a shattered arm retired him from service as a Confederate soldier.
Ebb Robinson, of whom I have already told you, and then there was Billie Echols; the very thought
of him brings a smile, though he, too, is with the Master. Redheaded in every sense of the word,
jolly and good-humored all the time. It was a comfort and a solace ever to be near him. Fat, full of
fun, I used to sleep next to him in camp. He was as ticklish as a woman, though I don't know how I
am going to explain to my wife how ticklish that was, but all the same when I got a little hot, all I
had to do was to tickle Billie Echols, and then for the row of us got plenty of stir for a while.

A Miserable Winter

We spent the winter of '63 and '64 ragged, barefooted, and half-starved, and in that condition, in
the last of the winter or early spring came back from East Tennessee to Gordonsville, Virginia, to
rest preparatory for the coming campaign against Grant. We were here, when on the 5th of May,
Grant crossed the Paridan and attacked Hill's and Ewell's corps in the wilderness, and on the night
of the 5th we started on a long night march to re-enforce them. All the night long the cry along the
line, "Hurry, men, hurry." And when we got within nine miles of the battlefields we began to hear
the faint boom of the artillery. We were marching in double column on the plank road and the old
dirt road, Hood
'
s Brigade leading, Kershaw's division on one side, Emphress' on the other.
And then for nine miles it was a race and a run between those two leading brigades. We could
hear in the faint distance growing louder and rumbling deeper, the burst of shells, the jarring growl,
and the roll of musketry.
We passed General Lee and Longstreet seated on their horses and watching the battle just in
front of them, and on we went until we got among the Confederates retiring under the fire of
Grant's soldiers, and then came the order, "On your right by file into line." And "On your left by
file into line" to the other, and then those two brigades, amid all the confusion and rumble of battle,
filed one on the left and one to the right, and as the men took their places in line, which grew steadi-
ly longer under those orders, the Confederates were passing through their lines, the bullets of the
enemy were falling among the troops, the shouts and turmoil of battle were raging all around them.

At the Wilderness

When the line was formed, General Lee rode up to Hood's Brigade to lead a charge in that fear-
ful wilderness, while General Longstreet at the same time rode up to lead our Brigade. It was terri-
ble. The triumphant Yankees sweeping as they believed everything before them, driving the Con-
federates back as they thought, crowding with their masses around them in over-powering numbers
pressed forward and then occurred, I presume that celebrated scene where the Texas soldier took
Lee's horse by the bridle and Lee to the rear, but the great leader, whose life was so precious to them
all, turned his horse, and then came the order "Forward" and into that dense wilderness Hood
'
s and
Kershaw's legions, under the direct command of Longstreet, plunged into that wilderness, in proba-
bly the most fearful grapple of the war. You could see your enemy, but a few steps before you. The
din was terrific. Sometimes it was man to man fight, and still forward, forward was the cry. The
Yankees were steadily driven back. No artillery could be used, but it was simply a steady grapple.
The Yanks were driven back to their old breast works and then over them, the Confederates driving
the Yankees back. All day long this battle went on until late in the evening Longstreet halted his
troops to reform and rode forward, to see where best to direct his attack. Meantime, the woods had
caught on fire, and dense volumes of smoke, mingled with the pungent smell of burnt powder, ren-
dered the movements of the troops difficult, while the noise of battle raging in that dense thicket,
scarcely drowned the shrieks of the wounded as the spreading fire of the underbrush and leaves
caught them. The demon of destruction was in the very air. Longstreet quickly formed a column of
assault, and hurled it upon the flank of Grant's army. The roar of the flames, the crackle of the
small arms, the bomb of the artillery, the huzzah of the Yanks, the Rebel yell sounding in the air,
made pandemonium worse confounded, and yet, amid it all, stern and resistless, Longstreet urged
the columns forward. The Yankees were driven back and shriveled up, and it looked as if the panic
of two years before was to be repeated. The Yankees had been driven back more than a mile, when
Longstreet halted his troops and rode forward. When he returned the same scene which happened
when Jackson was shot, occurred again. Longstreet returned into his own lines and his own men,
believing him to be an enemy coming to attack them, fired upon him. General Jenkins, one of the
ablest officers on the army, was killed. Kershaw was hit. Longstreet himself received a wound,
which disabled him for months. One of his staff officers, a courier, was killed. When order was re-
stored, it was night, and the troops of Longstreet's corps were resting upon their arms. Two of the
Mess went down on this struggle.
Thickets and underbrush impeded the vision preventing your seeing the enemy until you were
within the reach of the bayonet almost, and fed the flames which encircled the two contending ar-
mies. For some days this continued, and Grant, unable to drive Lee, moved to his left towards
Spottsylvania.
The Court house composed of plank in a little cleared level place, was in part in open ground,
and when Grant with his advance reached the open place, the Old Brigade was already there, and
when the Yanks came running up our bantam little Colonel, always ready for a fight, ordered the
charge and at them we went.
On the Confederate side, men were hurrying to their places. On the Yanks' side serried masses of
blue were double-quicking into line, but Fizer was spoiling for a fight. The first contact broke the
lines of blue and the Old Seventeenth followed on a run. For more than a mile the annals of heavy
chase would hardly have done Justice to the running, and when Fizer, on his little blaze-faced horse,
halted us, it occurred to him that it would be well to look around and lines of blue were between us,
and the Confederate army stretched out, and there we were behind the Federal army. Fizer prompt-
ly moved us over into a ravine, furled the colors and we lay there all day long, while back of us the
shouts of contending armies were heard. Everything that came into that hollow that day we took in,
and when night came we stretched out to march around Grant
1
s flank. It looks almost incredible,
but it is an ever-true tale. It took us all night to get around, but next morning we marched back and
took our places in the lines of the Old Brigade.

In the Trenches

For the next few days, the hardest fighting took place. A bunch of leaves. a tuft of grass, loose
dirt, rotten trees, anything that had the semblance of firmness went into the little trenches that we
made and laid down in. We dug dirt with tin pans, tin cups, knives, rails, - anything. And all the
while the Yankees were trying to move us. The fighting close and desperate, on one part of the line.
Edward Johnson's division was over-run, and we were double-quicked into hold it. Line after line of
blue coats were brought up and told to pull trigger, and they did it. It was here that a tree the size of
a man
'
s body was cut down by the bullets, and fell, its branches falling among our old regiment and
among the McGowan's South Carolina Brigade, and so it continued until, unable to drive us, Grant
moved again to the right. But Lee was again too soon for him and at the junction of the rivers, Ma
and Pa and Po and Ni and Lo and while Grant's army was stretched across the bend, our old brigade
took position on the apex and Grant, with his army divided, assayed to make an attack.

My Companion Killed

It was here, standing, talking, laughing and joking with the writer, Stagy Watson was killed. While
fighting at Spottsylvania, the fall of rain had been incessant and terrific.
The warring rains had no effect on warring men, and now when they got out, the Yankees fired
off their guns in order to clean them up, and they naturally turned them toward us, and the bullets
fired from the guns more than a mile away, struck Stagy Watson in the head and killed him. He was
a pleasant and agreeable companion, a devoted, loving soldier, a devout member of the Presbyterian
Church. The world would have been better had he lived.
A routine of the same old butcheries followed with Grant unable to move one inch.
Then at Pamunkey River, and then at Bethesda Church, and then one bright morning in June we
formed a battle line through the under-brush, scrubby oaks and small pines at Cold Harbor. The
crackle of the musketry from the skirmishers in front, a sure precursor of the coming storm, and
presage of what proved the bloodiest battle of civilization, and we prepared for it.

Bloody Cold Harbor

The second thing we did was to bring the cartridge box, usually carried upon the left hip, directly
in front of us. The old leathern cap box, now a thing of the past, was brought around to the right
side. Those who had playing cards took them out and threw them away. Playing cards were good
companions sometimes, but they were not the proper things to present as credentials to St. Peter.
Those of us who had letters from loved ones at home took them out, and with a longing look, tore
them up, bit by bit. Should the fortunes of war go against us no cold-blooded Yankee, prowling in
our pockets, should read the loving words that loved ones and dear ones at home had written. And
while with an upward glance to the Heavens above, we commended them to the keeping of the Fa-
ther of us all. We drew the Bible around and placed it over the heart, and then there came along the
lines this
"If any man is a constitutional coward and will say it, let him step to the rear." and one from
Company A (not our old company, thank God) with slouchy shoulders and shambling gait, stepped
out, but for him there was no jeer, no reproach, and no recrimination. Face to face with the awful
crisis then pending, no man cared to pollute his lips with foul words nor soil his heart with unholy
things.
And then for hours the most fearful struggle followed, and Cold Harbor has gone down in histo-
ry as the bloodiest battle in civilization, and the breaking of the day for the Confederacy.
Ah! If Longstreet, instead of being on a bed suffering wounds had been there he would have
sprung his legions to the return charge, and it would have been said of Grant's army "It was." Here
we lay a few days, and then carne the summons for a rapid march, and over and across the James, up
by the Halfway House and down by Petersburg we hurried on a hot day in the early part of June.
Hurried continually by the call that carne from Petersburg: "The Yanks are in sight of the town.
"Come, and come quickly" and at a double quick we ran miles upon miles to reach the city, and as
we crossed the river and ascended the hill and passed along the streets, citizens met us with prayers
and blessings. Nor did they forget that a cup of cold water and a crumb of bread were good things,
but there was no halt for us. Reaching the top of the little hill we turned sharply to the left and out
by old Blanford Church with the ivy clinging to its walls, and with the City of the Dead around it we
hurried.
Passing the old church we went into the line of battle on a run, fixed bayonets and moved for-
ward, and established the outer lines extending from the Appomattox River over to and beyond the
"Crate" and then settled down to a regular siege. We were about one hundred yards from the Yan-
kees, and they essayed to dig up to us, as they had done at Vicksburg. It would not work, however,
and after some desultory movements, face to face the two armies sat down. And this is how we
lived in the trenches: We dug a ditch and threw the dirt on the side next the Yankees and then got
in the ditch. At intervals along our lines the ditch was toward the Yankees, and the dirt was thrown
on our side, and into these forts the artillery was placed; as a protection to the gunners a mattress of
woven limbs of trees was made and hung up in the embrasures so that the bullets from the rifles
could not come through. Along the lines of works, chunks of wood were laid, traversely across the
breast works, and then along, stretching across the top of these would be laid logs so that the logs
were probably three or four inches from the breast works. The Yankees were better provided than
we were. They had planks and on those planks dirt was placed as a protection for the head from the
sharpshooters. Sometimes our logs would get struck with a cannon ball and the whole would go
skewed and crooked.
About twenty yards in front picket pits were dug to hold two men, and two went in about mid-
night and remained there for twenty-four hours. The man who waits for a railway train has some
little idea of how time goes slow, but put him in one of those places to stay all day and he has some
little conception of patience, sitting on a monument.
Just in front of the little holes for the pickets we made Cheveaux de Frise. With us that meant
trees cut down and hauled out there and turned toward the Yankees and the end of the trees sharp-
ened. Occasionally we got a pine log, bored holes in it and then sharpened sticks at both ends, and
then tied the ends of the logs together. Here again the Yanks had another advantage over us. Their
Cheveaux de Frise was composed of logs with big holes bored through them> sharpened sticks and
the ends chained together. These sharpened sticks were placed so close together that it was with
difficulty that a man could get between the sticks and the logs being chained together it was impos-
sible to move them so that one could pass between the ends of the logs. That was the Yankee side.
It was a little tough to get through especially when the Yanks were shooting at you, but we had it to
do now and then.
Our Cheveaux de Frise was considerably more primitive, but the Yankees had more trouble in
getting along than we did. During the day no man could expose himself above the breastworks ex-
cept at risk of his life and almost certain death. To get into the lines and out we dug a trench running
directly back, fashioned like an old worn fence, and by that means brought in canteens of water to
cook with, provisions and everything else we needed.
Under these circumstances the man who went back was exposed all of the time to shots from
some parts of the Yankee line. But you may be sure we did not set down to rest or to tie our shoes.
You may be equally certain that a woman's way of washing the face was more popular than that of
the man. And as for washing clothes it may be said it was an unheard of thing. At least I don
'
t think
that I ever heard of a man being fool enough to wash his clothes. And just think of it -lying there in
the trenches day after day in the hot sun, in the rain, in the mud, shot at, battered at, and you may
get an idea that there was no extensive laundry business carried on.

Bombed Us

And thus life went on. Day and night the crackle of the rifles went on. Under cover of their
mantlets the Yankees kept up a continual artillery fire, but the bombs were annoying. They would
send up bombs from the mortars from behind their lines. They would go away up in the air and fall
on our side of the breastworks. To protect ourselves from these we dug holes in the ground like
caves. Covered over the top with dirt, these bombs when they came up in the daytime left a trail of
smoke, and when they went up at night they could be traced by fire, and when the lookout saw one
coming he would sing out "Rats to your holes" and into the little holes we would go. Usually the
bomb fell without doing further damage than bursting. Sometimes it would come through the top
of the covering and sometimes it would strike the mouth of the hole and came in. When it did there
was not but two things to do. One was to grab it and pull the fuse out, or throw the things out, or
go at once and not stand on the order of your going. Bill Mims pitched one out one day, and by the
way he handled fire, when old Scratch gets me it will be comforting to have him around.

Water and Food

And now we had water when we got thirsty enough lying in the hot sun to go after it and risk get-
ting back alive. By the by, bomb proofs were intolerably hot in the nighttime. They gave us as ra-
tions during this period, a little meal which was musty and mouldy, and that leads me to believe that
there is no intimate relation between pellagra and mouldy corn meal. It was unbolted, and they gave
us in addition a little handful of these cow-peas or a little dried apples and we would boil the peas,
but in a handful of salt in them. That enabled us to drink a good deal of water, and a fellow after
that some-times persuaded himself to think that he had had a meal.
Ah, but there are many delusions in life worse than that of the Confederate soldier starving to
death - putting a handful of salt in his peas that he might feel that he was full once. The fact is that I
have been full several times in life. I don't know that I ever got fuller with less harmful results. And
then long later in the winter there used to come to me and to others letters from homefolks, and the
women telling of suffering and sorrow. They, too, had their privations. There was hunger in the
cabin at home and at the fireside with the children, uncertain what news would come from the front,
unable to fathom the mysterious plans of the Master; the women and mothers of our land powerless
to trace the designs of the Master and not always ready to say "Behind a frowning Providence he
hides a smiling face."

Suffering at Home

The shouts of contending forces, the crash of the conflict of arms, the din of battle, the confu-
sion of camp, the danger from the foe, could distract the attention of the soldier in ranks, and the
needs of the hour drive the thoughts of the future from the minds of the soldier, but to the wife, the
mother and the loved ones at home it was an ever present sense of suffering, penury and want, and
also looking to the future, the maddening thought of the little ones around the fireside, and the
maddening uncertainty of what was going on at the front. Who can realize what woman felt or who
can picture her suffering during this terrible time?
And so life went on. Here the Confederate soldier impatient in his surroundings, and tormented
by his thoughts, recklessly exposed himself and was carried to the rear. They offered as an induce-
ment to marksmanship a furlough to him who would cut down the Stars and Stripes floating across
the way, and George Robertson won it. Even as he did so, one of his comrades had a letter from
home. It told him that one of his children had died with typhoid fever, and two more were nigh un-
to death, and that the woman of his soul had nothing to feed them, and said, "If you do not come I
believe we will starve." And he, who had proven his manhood on many a hard fought battle field,
who longed for the embrace of a loving mother and to feel the fathers hand in blessing on him,
handed his furlough to his comrade, took his place behind the breastworks and acquitted himself
like a man.
And so life went on. For us one unceasing round, and then unable to advance by digging up, the
Yankees sought to undermine us and place tons of powder beneath to blow us up. And under us,
the dull thud and tremor could be heard by us as day by day they made their preparations.

Vermin Foes

I want to go to Heaven some day, and I would not object to the method of Elijah or even that of
Enoch, but I want to say that I did not hanker after the proposed routes that the Yankees seemed
bent on that we should take. And it is not often that I rejoice at the misfortunes of a fellow being
but I do not believe there was a dissenting voice when a South Carolina Regiment came to relieve us
and they carried us back to the water works to wash up.

"Well we could say of misery, true heirs we be,
Bitten by greybacks, louse and flea,
And even fleas have smaller fleas to bit them,
And so on down the line infinitum."

And so thereto before they blew the lines up we were moved back and given leave to go down a
ravine to the Appomattox River to wash up and bathe. The entire regiment, freed from its con-
finement, readily availed itself of this privilege and down we went. After a while some man suggest-
ed that we organize a veteran corps (just think of what kind of a qualification those who had been to
Manassas, to Petersburg, needed to make him a veteran) but, the qualification was that out of that
entire regiment there was but one man who hadn't the power to show a scratch or bullet. Every
other man in the regiment was battle scarred, some of them more. The writer could show six, all of
them more or less scars.

Greater Love Hath No Man

And now I must tell you of the one that had no bullets to show. He was Billie Echols, and just a
day or so before we moved from the trenches one of old Company D was shot in the rifle pits. His
companion called back and was told in answer that no man could hope to go from the trenches to
the rifle pits and live. He called back "He is bleeding to death." In a moment every man of us
sprang to our guns, opened fire on the embrasures. Through the Yankees' fire Bill Echols and Jim
Crawford grabbed the litter jumped over the breastworks, ran to the rifle pit, laid the wounded man
on the litter and ran out with him, saving his life.
"Greater love hath no man than this."
And the two old soldiers who thus dared were yours and my messmates. Surely the Master, when
they went hence for they are both dead, welcomed them.
Well for a little while we got a rest and then we tramped up to the valley of Virginia, at least the
cars on which we rode about equaled it.

Angelic Woman

We got to Gordonsville in due time and I jumped off the cars and ran to the hospital. A Miss
Sanders from Baltimore was nurse in one of the wards. When the tide turned at Gettysburg that
good, sweet, poor little woman went to a northern hospital to alleviate the suffering of the wounded
Confederates. Gentle of speech, lovable in manner, cheerful in disposition, a noble good woman,
she soothed the dying hours of many a Confederate, lying wounded in a northern hospital. Her
presence was a benison and a blessing to the suffering soldiers, and brought peace and quiet to the
despairing. God's richest blessings have rested fully on her, but because of her care to the wounded
southerner she was exiled from her home, sent South, and found her place in a Confederate hospital
at Gordonsville, and I learned from her when I jumped off and ran over, the same blessing the Mar-
yland woman had given me "Dear dirty boy, aren't you hungry?" You will see at once that she knew
all about a Confederate soldier. His everlasting chronic disposition was that of hungriness, but all
she had to give me was stewed apples and the best light bread and the sweetest cordial welcome.
But we were hurrying for the valley. Sheridan turned back on his raid of devastation, ruin and
destruction; houses, and barns were burned; destruction everywhere, people mistreated until the
vandal told the truth when he said that "A crow passing the valley would have to carry his rations
with him." Everywhere vandalism sprang up, wrought by a set of brutes upon their own country-
men. The Methodist Divine teaches us "While the lamp holds out to burn, the vilest sinner may re-
turn." Grammarians tell us that the exception proves the rule. 1 am content to believe that Sheridan
and his vandals proved the rule. At least, if they have a place in Heaven then I don't want to go
there.
We followed Sheridan up to Berryville close to Charlestown, where John Brown was hung. Here
we followed Sheridan so closely that he had to stop and fight. It was partly in open Woods. The
Yanks used their sixteen shooting guns, breechloaders, and we used the old muzzle Winfield. The
shots on the trees from our side ranged from about four feet from the ground to about twelve feet
above. Most of their shots ranted from about eight feet from the ground to about twenty above.
They made an awful racket, firing rapidly, but we, making less noise, steadily drove them back.
Do you know that battle was fought a little differently from our other fighting? We commenced
that firing at the start and every time a man fired a gun he would load right where he fired and then
while he was capping his gun he would run until he got before everybody else and then fire. And so
on closing in on the Yankees and they gradually giving away until the line of troops were practically
mixed. Well, little Shack Franklin had run to the front and fired, stopped to load, and then throwing
the gun in the follow of his arm started to cap his gun while running, and he ran right into a Yankee.
The Yank threw down his gun hollowed "I surrender" and the boys in passing, one swapped hats
with him and ordered him to go to the rear and passed on. And when little Shack got up, the Yankee
seeing his condition, grabbed up his gun and fired at Shack. If anything would make a man jump,
that would. The Yankee hit Shack but did not kill him, and then it was Shack's turn. He finished
capping his gun. The Yankee threw down his and tried to surrender again. He died a dishonored
soldier's death.

Something to Eat

It was at Farmville that we had been promised something to eat. We had been fighting and
marching since we started on the retreat from Petersburg. It was one continuous struggle. The Yan-
kees' Cavalry had repeatedly charged the wagon train, and on one occasion a brigade of cavalry, led
by General Bragg, made a dash at the train. There happened to be passing a section of the Rich-
mond Howitzers. It very promptly shelled them and the teamsters sprang from their tents, gathered
guns, and the Cavalry was close on them when the Confederate stragglers opened fire. The Yankee
Cavalry broke, followed by shells from the artillery. Their leader, General Gregg, was so close in
that his horse came on and the General was swiped from his seat by a cannoner with a swab. Life
was one continual torment to him until Appomattox. The boys continually jeered him, and when he
found out who it was that had driven his Cavalry off, he said things that are not commonly used in
the Sunday school. I don't think that I was ten feet from him when he was swiped off, but it was
funny.
And now here we were at Farmville. Double the three days that the soldiers had been without
anything to eat and were told that somebody had blundered; the rations so imperatively needed by
this army had been carried into Richmond, dumped out on the ground, and the train loaded with the
record of how Congress had voted an important State paper. And so after six days with nothing to
eat, the worn and weary soldiers filed down the hill by the little station, across the stream and up and
beyond the little woods where they formed for battle. Somebody had blundered. Who it was it was
not for them to ask. Their trust was in the leader, their faith in Longstreet, and here, their horses
unable to drag the artillery, the cannoners of some batteries chipped the spokes from the wheels and
sat down and cried. While we, heartsick and Worn, rode along the lines carrying dispatches to those
whom we knew had been suffering for six days without a mouthful to eat and fighting all the time.
And then, the Yankees were so close we moved on, with no dream but that Lee was the greatest
soldier of them all.
The 8th of April was just like the preceding days, masses of the Federals constantly assailing
Longstreet in the rear, Gordon leading the front. This day was marked by what history calls a corre-
spondence between Grant and Lee.

Assaulting Longstreet

Meade and Humphreys, Milton and Ward were leading desperate assaults against the Confederate
rear commanded by Longstreet, and when night came the rear guard of the Confederate Army, with
gleaming bayonets as in the calmest days of its history and the balance of the army rested as secure.
All honor to maimed, old Longstreet, who held his own in this last and fiercest fighting of the Con-
federate army of northern Virginia. But when dawn came, General Gordon, essaying to advance,
found Sheridan
'
s Cavalry in his front, and sought to drive them, and in this battle, energetic as al-
ways, fires of battle always lighting him, yet he lost, and the 9th, his magnetic inspiration failed him
and he asked lee to send him Longstreet that he might drive the foe from this field.
Ah, but when in the hour of battle a soldier was needed it was Send Longstreet." And Lee, saying
that he would rather die a thousand deaths, rode to meet Grant to give up the army of Northern
Virginia.
Earlier in the day Custer, riding a beautiful black horse, had demanded of General Gordon that
he surrender the Confederate Army, and Gordon had referred him to General Lee, but Custer, a
superb horseman, splendidly mounted, wearing in his hat a long, black plume, had ridden to Long-
street with the same demand. And stern old Longstreet had tersely replied, "You go to Hell."

Longstreet's Courier

It was the writer's fortune to be a courier at Longstreet
'
s headquarters, and the answer, as mod-
estly related by the old General, was not made in the language that he gave it.
And then by mutual agreements there was an armistice of one hour between the rear guard under
Longstreet and the Federal forces under General Meade and Humphreys. General E. P. Alexander,
by Longstreet's direction, sending his couriers along the line formed then for another struggle.
Hardly had he formed them, and the bugles of the Federals were already sounding the advance,
when there dashed up a Federal Officer accompanied by Colonel Taylor of Lee's headquarters.

Lee had Surrendered

No man can ever describe what followed. Some sat at the roots of trees and cried as if their
hearts would break. Some grasped the Innfield rifle that they had carried for years and smashed
them. Some cursed bitterly, some prayed, and some cried out, "The Cavalry is going to break their
way out, let
'
s join them. I was there. I can
'
t tell you what I did. I only know that I cannot describe
it.
By the terms of the surrender the Regiments were moved back, stacked arms, folded their colors
and lay them across the bayonets. That night as the dusk came on, each of us went to the Old flag.
It had engraven on it the many fields of battle in which we had participated. You know orders had
been issued that wherever we fought in battle and did not turn our backs on the fee, we should have
engraven on the flag its name. You know Manassas was fought before the Southern Cross was
adopted, and yet the regiments had been permitted to engrave this field on their flags. And so ours
had on it: Manassas, Leesburg, Yorktown, Williamsburg, Seven Pines, and in all the conflicts of
Northern Virginia, save Mine Run where Chickamauga took its place.

Old Flag Divided Up

And when the gloom of the evening gathered around, all of us gathered around the old flag and
each of us took off a piece, and when the dawn of another morning came, there was no part of the
old flag left. It was dear to the hearts of the old soldier who had followed it se long. It had been
their pride and had been so often exhibited, showing to the other commands where we had been
and how we had fought. No matter hew shattered the flag staff was, and as tattered and torn as the
old flag was, it was dear to us all.
And so, we divided up the old flag. We gave way to womanish tears as we did so, and shall I say
it, cried bitterly. We had entered the Confederate Army one hundred and thirty strong, the faces of
whom gathered around the old flag that night and parted; among them of the old company comes
vividly before me. There was John Harris, Sergeant commanding the Company. There was R.W.
McLain, Corporal. There was H.C. Cory. There was B.W. Grey. There was T.H. Fount. There was
K.S. Holland, there was Chas. Nunally, and the writer, W.M. Abernathy. All of them bore scars of
the siege in battle.
And new, when the Heavens were black, they parted the old flag and wending their way home-
ward, took up life again. I have even yet a list of those who surrendered, and now again, do you
know that the two divisions with Longstreet and Hood's divisions and Kershaw's had more men
with guns in their hands than all the balance of Lee's army.
Under the surrender by Lee, General Lee was to designate three Confederate officers to arrange
with those appointed by General Grant the details of the surrender. And Lee named Longstreet as
Chief, Gordon and Alexander of the Artillery, and General Grant named Newton, Ford and Hunt.

Carried Last Dispatch

I was courier at Longstreet
'
s headquarters when these officers completed their labors and I car-
ried the dispatch to General Lee, which was the last dispatch carried in that army, and although they
had borne the brunt of fighting, had suffered more than all the balance of the troops, Longstreet's
two divisions had more guns in their ranks than all the balance, though there were three other corps.
And yet, few there be of the camps who seek to honor the memory of that gallant soldier, save there
is one at Ennis, all honor to it, which bears his name.
It was to Longstreet to whom Lee committed the command of his rear guard, and I am glad that
he did not fail him.

Our Survivors

And now of the boys who thronged around the flag there survives Ed Thurmond who so long
commanded the Company, and was a fine swordsman. The war had left him wrecked and bent
double. I doubt if he could new cut a sunflower down with a butcher knife. You remember the day
we were in front of the Harrison house, skirmishing with the Yankees. Ed Thurmond was in com-
mand that day. Something over thirty years afterward I was back there and an old gentleman got his
bottle out and on the old Virginia soil we drank a heath to our old Company Commander who now
lives away ever on the shores of the Pacific, at Santa Barbara, California, a martyr to his devotion.
John W. Harris, wounded thrice in battle, he is honored and respected at Chulahoma, Mississippi.
William J. Phillips, one-armed, life has brought him compensation for his one arm lost in battle.
Scott Lynch, who hasn't even a semblance of a part of a leg, who sits singing merrily all the day long,
at Asheville, North Carolina. Cul Cummings, the honor and the respect of his neighbors has
brought him some recompense for the hand he lost at Gettysburg. Dear old Joe Hanniford, who
loves to sing in the choir of the Methodist Church at Morrillton, Arkansas. What the Yankees left
of Art Christie, and that is not much, is at Wall Hill, Marshall County Mississippi.

Only One Left of the Twelve

There were twelve of us in the Mess, and when Lee surrendered at Appomattox Court house, I
was the only representative, save my body guard, an old Negro named Simon, left of them. I had
been hit six times. Every man of them had done his duty as he saw it. And now at Appomattox
Court house, after four years under "Marse Robert" little and scrawny, I was the sole survivor fit for
duty. It was gloomy that day. It was desolate, and in the sentiment of the poet:

"I feel like one who treads alone,
Some banquet hall deserted.
Whose hopes are fled, whose garlands dead,
And all but him departed.
"


I wonder if when this toilsome life is over for all of us, shall we meet again, and if so, will the im-
print of our life here have any trace left upon us, for when Scott Lynch starts to Heaven he will have
to go by Gettysburg to get part of his bones, and then he shall have to go down to North Carolina
to get the balance. And so with Bill Phillips, now living at Monticello, Arkansas. He will have to
visit Knoxville, Tennessee to make himself a full proportioned man. And so with you, Cul Cum-
mings, if you do not want to appear maimed before St. Peter, you will have to go to Gettysburg.
And Ed Thurmond will also have to do some traveling.
And last and least of all, is the writer, W. M. Abernathy, of McKinney, Texas. He received sever-
al wounds in more than one battle. And content with the presence of the loveliest woman on earth
and happiness of a lovable family, he awaits the coming and the sound of the Trumpet.

Your humble servant,

W. M. ABERNATHY

*****

Epilogue

Billy Abernathys company was reduced from 125 at the start of the war to only seven at its fin-
ish. Of those, not one escaped without injury. The stories of several members of his mess are
known. Sergeant Major Cummings, who was wounded in the hand at Gettysburg, became a judge in
Ft. Worth, Texas. Captain Gideon Edwards Ed Thurmond, who lost a hand at Fredericksburg,
moved to Carpenteria, Santa Barbara Co., California where he served as Superintendent of Schools
for 24 years. (The Deaderick-Doremus-Thurmond Camp 1631 in Santa Barbara is named in his
memory.) Meshach A. Shack Franklin, Jesse D. Franklin, and Columbus B. Franklin also moved
to Carpinteria, where Columbus helped found the Carpinteria Lemon Association. Simon, who
took the surname of his former masters, moved to Arden, Buncombe Co., North Carolina, where he
lived with his wife and several children.

Comments on this material can be sent to John W. Hoopes at 1200 Oak Tree Drive, Lawrence, KS 66049-0865
or via email to john@hoopes.com.

Photo Captions

Photo 1 Billy Abernathy in Confederate uniform, ca. 1861
Photo 2 Wedding Portrait, October 1873
Photo 3 Portrait in pencil by daughter Frances, ca. 1890
Photo 4 President, State of Texas Fireman's Association, 1901
Photo 5 With grandchildren Mary Frances Thompson, William P. Abernathy, and Dan and Lucy
Thompson, ca. 1909
Photo 6 Photo taken ca. 1910
Photo 7 Headstone in Pecan Grove Cemetery, McKinney, Texas
Photo 8 Battle flag of the 17
th
Mississippi, captured at Fort Saunders, Knoxville, Tennessee.

Additional Reading

The following articles by Judge C.C. Cummings were published in Confederate Veteran:

"Mississippi Boys at Sharpsburg," Confederate Veteran 5:23 (1897).
"Leesburg or Balls Bluff 21 Oct. 1861," Confederate Veteran 6 (Sept. 1898).
"Leesburg or Balls Bluff," Confederate Veteran 10:69 (1902)
"From the Irving Block Bastille," Confederate Veteran 13 (1905).
"Bombardment of Fredericksburg," Confederate Veteran 23 (June 1915).
"Storming Maryland Heights," Confederate Veteran 23:124 (1915).
"Sharpsburg - Antietam," Confederate Veteran 23:199 (1915).
"Chancellorsville, May 2, 1863," Confederate Veteran 23:406 (1915).