Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 July 1886 — SHOT AND SHELL. [ARTICLE]

SHOT AND SHELL.

Old Veterans’ Reminiscences of the War of the Rebellion. Embracing Anecdotes or Actual Experience and Colloquial Acquisition. The Battle of Franklin. “I belonged to Joe Johnston’s army,” said Thomas; “we had ceased to talk of our victory at Kenesaw. The daily fighting during the long retreat before Sherman had been almost forgotten. Our lost opportunity on Peach Tree Creek—lost by the removal of Johnston—had ceased to trouble us. The loss of Atlauta, and thousands of our comrades who fell in the battles around that town, was still fresh in our memories. And fresher still was the recollection of the bloody assault on the two redoubts near Allatoona that were held by a couple of thonsand Yankees. We had lost Johnston, In "whom we had unbounded confidence. Hood, whom we did not consider a snfe soldier, was in command. We feared that some of the belief as to the fightingcapacity of Northern men held by the slaveholders before the war ling ‘red in his mind. We privates had promptly discovered that the Yankees were as efficient fighters as we for two days, and our superiors if the battle lasted three, four, or five days. We had a saying, which was founded on fact. It was: ‘Yankees must be whipped in two days, or they Cannot be beaten at all.’ “We marched north, south, east, west, in any direction Hood saw fit to lead us, and Sherman trailed after us. At Gaylesburg he tired of the pleasure of the chase, aud abandoned us. We camped for a few days, then crossed the Tennessee River a few miles above Florence, aud marched rapidly toward Columbia. Here we had our first hard fighting in forcing the passage of Duck River. We pushed the Federate from the river, and then made a furious march, fighting as we went, so as to intercept the retreat of Schofield's army. We outmarched them, and slept near Spring Hill. When we bivouacked we knew that we had Schofield in a trap, and that he was ours.” Thomas ceased talking. He looked gloomily into the fire for an instant, and then said, regretfully: “Yes, we outmarched Schofield, and then we slept, and while we slept Schofield marched by—marched within a half a mile of our camp fires. I have never Been more intense rage aud profound disgust than was expressed by the weary, footsore, battletorn Confederate soldiers when they discovered that their officers had allowed their prey to oscape. Suddenly we fell into column and resumed the chase. We pushed Schofield closely. He struck the Harpeth River at Franklin, where the stream makes a right angle. We were so close to Schofield that he didn’t dare to attempt to cross the river for fear of losing not only his trains but his army. The Yankees formed a battle lino across the neck of land formed by the winding river. Their flanks rested on the-water. Their center was on a low hill, where a couple of batteries stood in action. We were on the ground early in the morning. The Yankees had just begun to break earth for an intrenchment. We could see their entire line and judge correctly of their numbers. We outnumbered them over two to one. The Confederates, though tired and hungry, were keen to be ldd to the assault. We one and all prepared to fight at once rather than to wait for an hour or two and be fed. After our bloody experience at Allatobna we dreaded to attack earthworks manned by veteran Yankee infantry. Now"w.e had Schofield’s army cooped. They could not retreat. The river was behind them. We knew that if we attacked at once we could kill them, or capture them, or drive them into the river, But we also knew that if Hood allowed them to throw up ah earthwork, it mattered not how slight, they would most tenaciously hold that defense. They were desperate men. Their only chance was to fight, and fight, and still fight. In the open we could have crushed them in an hour. Once covered we knew that they could not be crushed, and we privates, who had fought these men for three years, knew they would fight to the last man, almost, once they were warmed to their work. “As we stood in column waiting for our orders, 1 saw the corps aud division commanders crowd around Hood, who had ridden onto the field-.._ JL-droppfld—out -of the

ranks and drew near to the group. They _were inspecting the Yankee line. I heard Cleburne, approved and fearless fighter, urge Hood to order the assault at once. I heard other general officers advise him not to waste time, not to allow the Yankees time to cover themselves. Hood refused to order the assault, saying the troops were tired and: hungry, and needed food and rest, and he added, contemptuously: ‘ln ten minutes we can drive the Yankeesout of any works they pan fhiow up in two hours. They cannot hold that line.’ Cleburne, shook his head negatively- at this, but Hood was firm. When I saw Cleburne, wbo-sas ever keen for battle, shake his head I was discouraged. If Clebui-ne dreads the work, it must be hopeless, I thought. “The men were ordered to cook breakfast, and obeyed sullenly. The Yankee earthworks steadily grew as we looked on. Two hours passed and they were finished, and the Yankee infantry sank out of sight behind them. Then came marching and countermarching...ou our part. It was four o’clock before our dispositions for the assault were made. From the position I was in I could plainly see the Yankee line. It seemed to be deserted. Now and then the head of a man would appear above the works, or au artilleryman would crouch behind a gun and gaze in our direction. We were formed for the assault. The plan was to launch several columns against the line and endeavor to break it at ditferent points, while the real attack would be made on the little hill where the two batteries stood. Our artillery went into action. Some dismounted artillerymen were formed behind ns. These were to follow us closely, and when we had captured the Yankee guns they were to turn them and pulverize the flying Yankees. It was a good idea, and the artillerymen laughed gleefully at the picture they conjured. It was well they had their laugh first. “All was ready; we arose and dashed forward. Out of tho ground rose the Yankee pickets, and, firing once, they ran for their earthwork. As we screamed ont the charging yell the Y’ankee troops rose up from behind their works and their rifles fell into a horizontal line, the Federal artillerists sprung to their guns, we instinctively pulled our hat brims down as though to protect our faces and dashed into the open. In, stantly we were met by a storm of bullets and canister that caused us to stagger as our dead and wounded comrades fell against us. We wavered badly, then gathered ourselves and pushed on, firing as we went. “The powder smoke hung on the field. Through rifts in it we could see the Federal gunners spring ninthly to and fro from the Napoleon guns. The responsive flash pf the guns as the lanyards were pulled would be followed by the rip of canister as it flew past and through ns, tearing great gaps in our ranks, cracking men’s bones as pipestems, and knocking brave men dead

with great hole# in their bodies. The zip, tip, zip of 'ftying rifle balls was a mighty and steady hum, as though the empty'cylinders of countless threshing time bines were revolving at full speed all around us, “Steadily the veteran Yankee infantry, who had to hold their line of earthworks or take .to the water, loaded and tired. Our men fell by hundreds. We staggered on through this storm of bullets and canister for five minutes. We had not reached the Union line. Then we heard exultant shouts to our left, aud through tho drifting smoke caught a glimpse of our battle flags planted on the Federal breastworks on the hill; and as we saw the men clad in gray clamber over the works and disappear, we redoubled our efforts to take the line in front of us. Its fire did not slacken a particle. Its defenders paid no attention to the disaster that had overtaken their center. As we drew closer, the parapet, reddened in the smoke and the fire, resembled the fury of hell in its intensity. Then loud above tho battle’s roar sounded the charging cheer of the Yankee troops, and we knew that the Confederates who had broken the Federal center were being called upon to make good their success by meeting the charge of the Yankee reserves. Could they withstand it? Promptly came the answer. There was a solid crash of musketry from that portion of the line, and in an instant the remnants of the victorious Confederates swarmed out of the captured works and ran for cover. Instantly the earthwork was manned by a double line of blue-coated infantry, who shot down the flying Confederates by scores. * “We pressed on. We were so close to the works that some of oar men fell into the ditch. We could see the eyes of the Yankee infantry as they looked over their rifle sights. Their faces were pallid, their jaws set, and their eyes blazed with battle light. I never before saw such rapid handling of artiliery. It seemed to me that I could see No. 1 impatiently tap with sponge staff on the blackened muzzles of the brass guus, as he called for canister, and more canister, and still more canister. We were sufficiently near to feel the wind of the guns. I looked back. We had not advanced far. The dead lay in windrows. Wounded men were staggering over the field and falling in ones, twos, and threes, as they came together for aid, between the lines of dead. The men hesitated. They realized that they could riot carry the works. Their line officers tried to hold them. Tney staggered a few feet nearer the Federal line, firing wildly the while, to be scorched by the hot breath of cannon and rifles. They wavered badly, tried to hold on, then broke aud ran for cover. We were under fire for about ten minutes, and one- third of our division, Reynolds’, were killed or wounded. Stunned, bewildered and horribly disappointed, we gathered in a protected position and were speedily reformed. We were allowed to rest for awhile.

“Of course the planned simultaneous attack by several columns had failed. Of course they did not get off together. They went in one after the other, and they wore all whipped. Again we were formed into charging columns. Our officers briefly explained the necessity of carrying the works. We swore to take them or die in the attempt. Ah,” said Thomas, “it is easy to swear to do things when you are not under fire, but hard, exceedingly hard, to accomplish them. We rushed to the assault again, again to be met by a fire the heat of which warped us out of line. It seemed to me (hat the air was so full of bullets that I could have caught some by simply grabbing on either side or above me. We ndvaneod close to the works, and again we broke and fled for cover. The Yankees, now thoroughly angry, and merciless, began to shoot at every living object within range of their rifles. Wounded Confederates, who moved a leg or au arm, were instantly selected as targets, and were literally shot to pieces. “Darkness descended and still the battletorn Confederates were formed into charging colnmns and launched against the Yankee works. We advanced, stumbling over our dead and wounded. The latter shrieked as -Sve trod on their mangled limbs. Powder smoke hung over the field in clouds, which reflected the lurid fire that blazed along the Yankee parapet. Eight o’clock, 9 o’clock, 9:30, and we were still fighting, still dying, still trampling our dead and wounded comrades into the earth. Then we gave it up. We had made five desperate charges. Pat Cleburne’s men had made six, aud he fell dead while leading the last. Every general officer in the army, except Hood, was killed or wounded.- Ourlossesrmd rnn high up te the thousands. We stacked our- arms and lay down. All night our wounded comrades crawled off of the field nnd sought comfort and rest and water among their ( jmhurt brothers. Men with one leg trailing gh the earth behind them, others with shattered shoulders or torn entrails, or ghastly flesh wounds, or with smashed jaws, or eyes shot out, would crawl, walk, or be led into our ranks, where they would sink beside ns and murmur: ‘I am glad to get home to you. It was hell itself, boys! ’ And they would sink into sleep or death, r

“We were aw.ake early the next morning to discover that the Yankees had crossed the river during the night, and were probably well on their way toward Nashville. We were mighty glad they had gone. Hood seemed to be stupefied at the disaster that had befallen us. He allowed his discouraged army to remain in camp by that bloodv battlefield. The men, already dispirited and doubtful of his ability as a commander, were permitted to roam at will over the corpse-Strewn field. I never before or after Raw strch a. frightful battle-ground. Many of the dead were shot to shreds. And I saw scores of men who had been wounded—legs broken probably—who had put their thumbs into their mouths and had chewed them into shreds to keep from crying, coward like, as they lay exposed to the merciless tire of the Yankees, waiting for death to keep them from voicing their fear. Frankiin was the only battle ground I ever saw where the faces of the majority of tho dead expressed supreme fear and horror. Dead men’s far os were drawn awry. Their eyes were wide open and. fear-staring/ Their very attitude as they lay prone on the ground with extended, earth-clutching fingers, and with their faceß practically buried in the mil. told the tale of mental agony they had endured before death released them. And then, the chewed thumbs, Blowing the direful necessity they had to brace th ‘mselves to receive death, was inexpressibly affecting. * “Tho repeated disasters we had encountered under Hood, had dampened our ardor: The unwise rambling of onr men over the battle-field of Franklin broke their spirit. We would not fight at Nashville; we lost that field because the specter of Franklin, livid, with distorted features, with blood-streaming wounds, with ghastly, horror-stricken eyes, chewing and crunching its thumb, stalked among us. It was in the ,columns as we marched. It rode astride of the Napoleon gnus. It sat by our cam}) fires. It stood in the trenches' at Nashville. It lay in the rifle pits o' nights.” Thomas ceased talking, and looked intently and sorrowfully into the tire, as jthough he were searching for the faces of ’the comrades he had lost,: I did not intrude on his grief, but quietly rolled mvself in my blankets and lay down, not to sleep, bat to think of the horrors of the war, and

of the bloody fields in Virginia, on which I had worked at a cannon’s muzzle. Frank Wilkeson.

Old John. John was a noble clay-bank horse, of the Copperbottom stock. Hs was bought by my step-father, a physician, when a Colt, and had beeu raised by him, and being on intelligent animal I had taught him many tricks. The war coming on, “we boys” volunteered in the Confederate army. The darkies took French leave, so my stepfather had to tend this horse himself. Our house fronted on the main street, and the lot ran back to an alley upon which was the stable. My step-father, when he had a professional call in the oounlry, to save timo, would bring John through the back aud front yard and out the front gate, and the same also in returning. The “non-conscript act” let me out of the Virginian army, and I returned to my home —Alexandria, Tennessee. The Yankeos being unpleasantly numerous there, I persuaded my step-father to let me take John and join the rebel cavalry. A year after this I was captured and carried to Camp Morton, Indiana, where I remained thineen months, then returned home, just two years and one month from the time I rode John off to the war. I should here state that mother and sister, after I went to the war, would very often feed and caress John, and he would come at their call.

Upon my return home mother told me the following: About a month before my return a body of Federal cavalry passed in front of our house at a double-quick. Just in front of our gate a soldier, riding a large clay-bank, turned out, galloped up to the gate, and stopped so suddenly as to nearly throw him forward. The horse commenced whinnying, pawing, and nosing the gate most energetically, the rider in the meantime cursing, jerking the reins, and Toweling the animal most unmercifully with his spurs. The poor beast moved off reluctantly. My mother and sister had seen all this, and the latter said, “Ma, I believe that is old John. If it is, he will know my voice.” So she called, “John, poor John.” By this time the horse and rider had moved up the street about fifty yards. But at the word “John” the horse wheeled and came back to the gate with such velocity that the rider scarcely kept his seat, and actually dropped off at the gate, and was so awfully mad at the horse that no doubt he would have shot him had not my sister and mother interposed in his behalf. By leading him the soldier finally got him away. And yet further. That night a noise was heard in the yard. Upon examination it was old John, as was his custom, grazing on the tender blue grass. The part of a halter on his head showed that he had broken his fastenings and came back to scenes he loved., Although two full years had elapsed, he had not forgotten his ancient habit of coming in at that self-saine front gate, or the voice of one who was always gentle and kind to him. But he was cruelly taken away the next day, aud never more heard from. Spunk Dennis.

Too Much Imagination. Our officers had given ns strict orders against foraging. Colonel Randall and Captain Whiting,- of Company H, were especially severe. In spite of orders the boys used to pick up young pigs, abundant in that vicinity, and work them up into “possum stews.” The Captain chanced to discover that the boys' game of which their stews were made was contraband, and he at once confiscated a fine stew and had the owners arrested. Now the Captain was a great lover of poker, and he and his set regaled themselves with poker and the soldiers’ stew. The boys resolved to get even. In the natural order this event happened twice. The second time it was essentially varied, as follows: Fojy puppies had been procured. Three of them were killed, their bodies buned and heads left outside, just back of the tent. After the officers’ set had got the well-seasoned stew disposed of, the little puppy remaining alive was left at the officers’ tent, and began to whine. They investigated the whining at once, and found the little fellow with a card to his neck, upon which was inscribed, “You have eaten my three brothers; now eat me. (Signed) Jeff. Davis.” In the expr. ssive language of the colored gentleman, there was commotion in that camp. Investigation followed, the pupdraw a veil over the scene that followed. A puppy’s whine, bark, or even a howl was altogether too suggestive for a long time after. The boys’ stews were not confiscated any more. The disagreeable results of the affair were entirely the effects of the imagination, as the stew which the officers confiscated was entirely composed of good chickens and pigs. —Chicago Ledger. —_.

A Surprised Darkey. The further South we found ourselves the more ignorant . and superstitious the blacks proved to be. It was a constant source of wooderment to them where so many men came from as they saw marching through their country. We were in Georgia with Sherman. We were marching in line four abreast, and the line extended as far ahead as the eye could reach, with an apparently endless continuation in the rear. ** At the side of the road stood a forlornlooking old darky, with his eyes rolled up “like a hen a drinking.” and his mouth wide open—the utter picture of amazement. A comrade said to him, “Hello, Uncle, what do you think of us Yanks, anyhow?”The old man took a long breath and said: “Fo’ de good Lawd! whar you ’uns all do cum from?” ‘.’Oh, this is nothing, 1 was replied, “It will take a week yet for us all to go by you.” The look of astonished amazement on that poor darkv’s face as he ejaculated: “Lawdy Gawd,” aud fled for the fields, was too utterly comical to be described, Such another shout of laughter as greeted his departure, joined iu by all who witnessed the scene. It Was an army marching shout, joined in by thousands who really knew no cause for laughter.

E. VAN DOREN.

lonia, Mich. - “An,, Lucius!” murmured Fedora, as she twined her white arms around his three-story collared neck with a firm “twostrand twine,” and vainly endeavoredito tickle her cheek against one side of his hairless, lip “wouldst thon really perform any act —however difficult to accomplish—in evidence of thy love for me?” “Even soj Fedora!” emphatically replied her loverfc gnzing fondly into the (writing) liquid deptlis-ef her (navy) bine eyes, and stroking with one hand the alleged downy growth on the unoccupied portion of his labial; “put thy devoted Luish to the test!” “Then, sir I” Shrieked site, with the shrillest kind of a piercing shroke, “for heaven's sake, raise a decent mustache inside of three months from this evening, or else ‘walk the plank’ in my affection!”- (He shaved, morning, noon, and-night , for ninety copse utive days, and used forty-nine different varieties of patent “Whisker Producers,” bnt he had to “walk,” ju9t the same.) —Chicago Ledger.