Recollections of war times

Preface

In my declining years I send forth this book as a narrative of some of the events and incidents of my past life while m the Southern Army. It embraces only a partial history of my life m camp, commencing with July 1861, and ending April 9th, 1865, while serving under "Stonewall" Jackson until December 1862, and under Longstreet until April 9th 1865. It is written almost entirely from memory, and therefore I do not claim to be absolutely correct, as forty years have passed since these things occurred, and 'tis said that memory is treacherous. I have avoided all harsh criticisms only where history upholds it. I have endeavored to avoid a repetition of profanity and slang that was so common in camp. All those who are acquainted with me know that I am uneducated, and that I make no claim to correct english. I am conscious that many mistakes have been made, and f respectfully ask the reader to cover my imperfections with the broad mantle of charity and accept this narrative only as a fireside conversation with an old Veteran.

Respectfully,

W. A. McCLENDON.

WHEN WILL THE CONFEDERATE SOLDIER BE FORGOTTEN?

"When the lion eats grass like an ox

And the gallinipper swallows the whale,

When the terrapin knits woolen socks

And the hare is outrun by the snail.

When serpents walk upright like men

And doodle bugs travel like frogs,

When grasshoppers feed on the hen

And feathers are found on the hogs,

When Thomas cats swim in the air.

And elephants roost upon trees,

When insects in summer are rare

And snuff never makes people sneeze.

When fish creep over dry land

And mules on bycicles ride,

When foxes lay eggs in the sand

And women in dress take no pride.

When Dutchmen no longer drink beer

And girls get to preaching on time.

When billy goats butt from the rear.

And treason is no longer a crime,

When the humming bird brays like a donkey

When plowshares are made out of monkeys

And the hearts of Alabamians are stone."

— By Mr. James Barson in Age Herald, June 9th, 1908.

Chapter I Thoughts On Old Times By An Old Veteran

An old man like I am sitting alone around a fire on a cold day with no sweet little boys and girls to be romping around musing over the events of the present, and what may be in the future, will naturally let his mind run back to events of the past. I said an old man, that is what the boys sometimes calls their father. "The Old Man," but I am not as old as some would suppose, nor wont be the next time you hear from me. So far I have had what some people call many "ups and downs" and if I am to be the judge the "downs" have predominated, but being possessed naturally with a lively disposition and it being sorter in keeping with my faith, I am inclined to accept everything that happens as an act of providence and complain as little as possible. Well, while musing over the past my mind ran back to Christmas time of 1860. When I go to town, I see very few of the old boys that were young then, that remembers the events of that time, and it is a great pleasure to sit with them and talk of the stirring events of those days when A. B. Moore was Governor of Alabama, when John Bright drove the stage from Eufaula in Barbour county down by Abbeville carrying the passengers and mail to and from Columbia in Henry county, and when the Whigs, and Democrats, buried the "hatchet" as a token of bridging the chasm that had so long existed between them politically and as a unit espousing the cause of the South that was then threatened with an abolition administration. In those days of which I speak the post office at Abbeville would be crowded at each arrival of the mail from Eufaula, Sundays not excepted, as that was the mail that brought the news from the seat of government.

I was a youth then, in my teens, but all my relatives were strong Southern people and politically were democrats, and ardent secessionists. I had a peculiar fondness for reading Southern newspapers, and whenever I saw anything that C. C. Clay, W. L. Yancey and J. L. Pugh of Alabama had to say, it would catch my eye. There were democratic leaders from other Southern States that were fiery in their oratory, I will mention a few. Bob Toombs of Georgia, M. L. Bonham of S. C, R. M. T. Hunter of Va., W. T, Wigfall of Texas, and the greatest of all was Jefferson Davis of Miss. All those that I have mentioned with many others were prominent leaders .of the democratic party of those days and espoused the cause of the South and as a last resort became ardent secessionists. The oratory of these men in the halls of Congress and on the rostrum fired our Southern heart, and when the call to arms was sounded we donned the grey, and under the "Stars and Bars" with a step to the martial music of Dixie and the "Bonnie Blue Flag" we went to the front to resent an insult offered to the South by her enemies. The people know the result. I am truly loyal now to the "Stars and Stripes." I glory in the United States, and am proud that I am an American. I still cherish a love for the "Stars and Bars," and as they were the colors of my first love, I guess that's the reason, for that love was so great that a spat of four years with the Yankees failed to suppress it. There are a few old timers living that remembers the stirring events of those days spoken of and the great leaders of the South that I have mentioned. The young of the present day only know of them from history and out of the few that I have mentioned not one are living. That grand old man, J. L. Pugh, was the last to cross over. Well, we have now what is called a new South. I claim to belong to the old South, and others of my age had as well claim the same. The new South is clamorous for room, and says : stand back, old South, you have had your day, now it's our time and it may be right, as time changes the people change, or as people change time changes, I don't know which.

Chapter II A Reminiscence Of Old Times

In the first chapter I said something about the Whigs and Democrats burying the hatchet. Some one might ask the question, did they bury a genuine hatchet, or was it an assumed name for the thing which bridged the political chasm that then existed between the two parties. Yes, it was a genuine hatchet, and as well as I remember it was bought out of the store of A. C. Gordon & Co., was brought out by Capt. J. W. Stokes, now dead, and after an address by John B. Taylor, suitable for the occasion, Capt. Stokes deposited the hatchet in a hole dug somewhere near the south veranda of the present court house, in the town of Abbeville, Ala. The hole was dug for the purpose of raising a liberty pole and the hatchet was deposited in the bottom under the large end of the pole. I was a small boy then, but I felt as great interest in the "Liberty Pole" as A. C. Gordon, D. W. Roach, J. T. McClendon, W. J. Singletary, or H. E. Owens did, but I had a great deal less to say, but I, with a great many other little boys of the town and country, thought it a big thing to be allowed to pull the ropes when the word was given to raise. These were exciting times in the politics of the country. South Carolina had already passed the memorable ordinance of Secession and the people began to hold mass meetings, and invariably would pass resolutions resolving to stand by South Carolina. The mayors of towns, and municipalities of towns, and cities would hold meetings, make speeches, endorse resolutions, until patriotism would run so high until it would cause "hot times in the old town at night." The little Southern boys and girls became to be Secessionists, and all prided themselves in wearing a badge of "Red, White and Blue." So much so, that red, white and blue ribbon was at a premium. South Carolina withdrew from the Union Dec. 20th, 1860. We boys in camp used to sing:

"We honor, yes, honor bold South Carolina, Who cast her brave bark alone on the deep," etc.

Florida followed on the 7th of January, 1861 ; Mississippi on the 9th; Alabama on the 11th; Georgia on the 20th; Louisiana on the 26th, and Texas on the 1st February. Thus in three months after the announcement of Mr. Lincoln's election nearly all the Cotton States had Seceeded from the Union. These are matters of history and I only mention them as events of what was going on here fortysix years ago. Well, what did all this bring about? Boys to the front. At this time of which I speak, there were two first class military companies in this (Henry) County. The "Henry Grays" and "Henry Blues." A. C. Gordon, of Abbeville, was Captain of the Grays, and T. T. Smith, of Columbia, was Captain of the Blues. So soon as Alabama withdrew from the Union, and linked her fortunes with the other Southern States, Captain Gordon and Captain Smith, both typical Southern gentlemen, tendered the services of themselves and their companies to the Governor of Alabama, to defend with their lives the cause of the State, and the South. Their services were accepted and each captain ordered to hold himself ready to move at a moment's notice. These were days full of expectancy for those companies, looking every day for orders to move, and at last the suspense was broken, and orders came for the Grays to move, and on the 11th of May, 1861, many left the old town of Abbeville never to return. I had several school-mates, friends and acquaintances in this company, one particular friend that I never saw again, Warren Owens. I volunteered under Captain Gordon to go too, but I being so young my father objected and I was left to wait until I grew older.

Chapter III A Reminiscence Of Old Times

No one knew but myself the anguish I bore, the sadness and loneliness that I felt when I was told that I could not go, that I would have to wait until I grew older. Some of my most intimate friends and associates had gone off with the Grays, and there was no enjoyment here for me. To dispel the gloom I would seek the company of what I thought to be my best girl. On one occasion I was in conversation with her talking about the boys that had gone when she looked at me with a smile, and with a cunning expression of countenance, remarked that her sweetheart was off with the Grays. Oh, my! That was a stunner to this boy for I had fancied myself to be her favorite but I found it was all a delusion and I resolved to go to the war the first chance thinking it might be the means of changing her mind and her affections would be concentrated upon me. In the latter spring, and early summer months the North and South were actively engaged, raising, organizing and concentrating large armies at the most assailable points which was only a precursor of what happened in the future. Fort Sumpter and nearly all the arsenals on the Southern coast that was occupied with United States soldiers had been seized by the Confederates without the loss of life. The first clash of small arms between the Federals and Confederates occurred on the 10th of June, 1861, in the low grounds of Virginia near Fortress Monroe. In this engagement the Confederates were victorious, and in history it is styled the "Battle of Bethel."

Hearing of so many victories for the South, and only a few getting killed, I began to think that the war would soon end and that I wouldn't get to smell gunpowder much less burn any. But all this time, and while these little scraps were taking place I was watching for a chance to get off. At last a meeting was called in Abbeville by some one to organize a company. I went. There was a large crowd in town that day, mostly old men and young boys. The old men would be in squads, juggling and caucusing about something, and I was watching closely, trying to catch on as to what was up, but at last some one over at the court house began to yell at the top of his voice, "Fall in! Fall in! form line here!" I fell into line with them. We formed in single rank reaching from the old court house across the square. All being in line I began to look for the captain. He was the man I wanted to see, but I failed to locate him. Mr. Henry Maybin and D. W. Roach seemed to be the leading spirits on that occasion, but I couldn't tell who was the Seignior in command. (Both of these old gentlemen have crossed over and gone, they were truly loyal to the South and made great sacrifices for the "Lost Cause.") After "right facing" and "left facing" and trying to obey every other command that was given on the street, we were marched up into the old court house, when some one (I don't remember who) occupied the judge's stand as chairman, and in a rambling way explained the object of the meeting, saying the object was to elect officers, agree upon the color and material for a uniform, and also to name the com.pany.

As well as I remember some one moved to make Mr. Henry Maybin Captain, and a vote was taken and Mr. Maybin was unanimously elected, and by the same process D. W. Roach was elected First Lieutenant. I don't remember who the other officers were, but one thing I do remember, that is, I was not even mentioned for the Fourth Corporal's place, which I thought I was entitled to on account of my military spirit. In voting upon the color, and material for the uniforms, they said it should be of a brown color made with cotton aids, the hats to be black, low crown with broad brims, and should be wool. The company should be called the "Home Guards" and should be for home protection. Dear Friends, that let me out. I wanted a suit of English Grey, trimmed in black with brass buttons and a grey cap, and brown leggins. That was my ideal for a uniform. That was the last meeting of that organization that I attended, don't know whether they ever had another me; they intended to stay at home, and that didn't suit, me; they intended to sta yat home, and that didn't suit. So in a short time after that W. C. Gates, then a lawyer of Abbeville, began raising a company to go to the war. That just suited me, and as I was nearly 17 years my parents reluctantly consented for me to go. So I volunteered in his company, a step I never regretted, and I will tell you in the next chapter how, when, and where I got off.

Chapter IV Recollections Of The Past

I will have to defer telling you where I went until some future time. I can only tell you of how and when I got off, and of my first stop. I told you in the preceding chapter that I abandoned the "Home Guards," that was organized for Home Protection, and volunteered under W. C. Gates. This was in the early days of July. Gates had been commissioned Captain and had tendered his services to the Governor, and was busy organizing his company for active service. All over the South the young men were volunteering to go to the war, and it was not a question as to who would go, but who would stay at home to take care of the home folks. As to who would stay at home, was, a question for some one else to decide. I was fully determined to go. The more I read the papers, and the more I could hear, only increased my desire to get off. While the South was making these preparations the North was not idle in doing the same thing. She was organizing a powerful army in and around Washington, preparatory to the invasion of Virginia, and the South was concentrating at or near Manassas, Va., about 25 miles from Washington, ready to meet the invaders whenever they came out from behind their breastworks. At last the Federal army advanced and the Confederates met them on the plains of Manassas on the 21st of July, 1861, and after a hard day's battle, the Confederates completely routed the Federal army. The names of the chief commanders with their subordinates of both sides, the names of the troops engaged, are matters of history, and I only refer to them as an event of this particular time.

The complete rout of the Federal army at that time had a tendency to check my ardor, as I was ready to agree with some of our leading statesmen, that with that victory for the South, peace would be declared in thirty days, the war would end, and I would not get to see a "wild Yank." But I believed Gates knew better, for he did not lose his energy in organizing his company. As well as I remember, about the 24th of July, the ladies of Abbeville presented us with a flag. We were drawn up in line in front of the old Academy when M. A. Bell, a lawyer of Abbeville, made the presentation speech for the ladies, when Capt. W. C. Gates in his eloquent and patriotic style accepted it for his companj^ accepting the flag with promises by himself and company which he and company faithfully kept. Who those ladies were I don't remember. I only remember one, Mrs. Harper, a noble Southern lady of the highest type. She is now deceased. The company was named and is known in history as the "Henry Pioneers," and at this time it was full up to the maximum and running over. It was composed mostly of farmers' boys, a hael, hearty set of young fellows, and in a skirmish with the "Yanks" they found us tough stuff, and hard to drive. Gn the 25th as well as I remember Captain Gates informed us that he had received orders to m.arch, and that he would leave for Franklin on the 27th. This was glorious news, for I was growing impatient. He gave every man the chance to back out that wanted to, only one stepped out. Capt. Gates had to reject one on account of his age being too young. This youth was a long, lean, lanky fellow; fair skin, blue eyes, light hair, and would have weighed about 115 pounds. '\Vhen this youth was inform.ed by Capt. Gates that he could not take him tears were seen trickling down his cheeks. He turned his back upon us and went his way weeping. This was no other than our big-hearted, whole-souled "Bob" Reynolds. He went off afterwards and joined the 37th Alabama, and at Atlanta he received a painful wound, but he survived, and is living among us today a fine specimen of humanity, weighing about 250 pounds. Considerable difference of "then and now." On Saturday morning of July 27, 1861, I rose early and began making preparations for my departure. After breakfast everything being ready, I bid my mother and sisters farewell, and hastened to Abbeville with my father. There the citizens had furnished wagons and buggies to carry us, and our camp equipage to Franklin. Kind friends, did you ever have to say good-bye? It was a hard word for me to say. About 10 o'clock I bade my aged father good-bye. I never saw him again. His last words are still remembered, "My son, take care of yourself," and turning to Capt. Gates, said: "Capt. Gates, take care of my boy."

Gates fulfilled his promise, as near as the arduous service would admit. We went on down to Franklin and there pitched our tents, went into camp and there waited for the steamer Jackson, which was to carry us up the river. Several things occurred this evening at Franklin, which I will tell of in the next chapter.

Chapter V Recgllectigns Gf The Past

Franklin is in Henry County, a small village on the western bank of the Chattahoochee river, and on my way to the war this was my first camp. I will say that just before we arrived, Capt. Gates formed us in line, and marched us to a house where there was a long table spread with evei-ything that would satisfy the hunger of man. This dinner was prepared by our First Lieutenant, C. V. Morris, and other citizens of the community, who were watching and waiting for our approach. A large crowd of people had already assembled, and more were continually arriving, mostly relatives and friends of the boys that were from off the river, coming for the purpose of bidding us farewell. About 5 p. m. Capt. Gates formed us in line, and give the command, "To the rear open order, march!" when the rear rank marched two paces backward. This being done, he commanded, "Front rank about face," Then the people began to pass through, shaking hands with every one, with moistened eyes, and briney cheeks, speaking words of cheer, bidding us God-speed, and good-bye. This v/as an affecting scene. Aged fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, and some of the boys' sweethearts were there to say good-bye. (My sweetheart was not there. I had already told her good-bye, and had, to some extent, recovered from the effects.) The parting between the Misses Codys and their brother Barnett, was very sad to me. I could not suppress the tear, seeing the m.anifestations of love of those beautiful girls toward their brother. It is not my intention to write a biographical sketch of the life of any one, but I will assume the liberty to say that I afterward learned the cause why those girls were so devoted to their brother. On account of his genial, loveable and generous disposition, they could not help but love him, and for those traits of his character he became the idol of the company, and those of us that were living at the time he was killed at Gettysburg, realized that in the death of Barnett, H. Cody we had lost a friend, and the company one of its most useful members. He was in his teens, and had passed through all the grades of the non-commissioned officers, and had been commissioned Second Lieutenant when he was killed. I could say m.ore of this noble hearted boy, but will only say that his old comrades that now live to think of him will meet him at the general "Roll Call" to answer "here."

But to return. After all this scene at parting we broke ranks, pitched our tents, and with great anxiety waited for the steamer "Jackson." This delay did not suit some of us for we were afraid the war would end before we could get there, and we wanted to be "going." Night came on, and while some of the boys were circulating around camp, one got too near the bluff, and over he went, but not into the water. The alarm was given and others rushed up to see, and over went another. This created more excitement and caused another rush, but they became more cautious, and "looked before they leaped." The boys got out all 0. K., without getting into the water, or being hurt. 'Twas here at this place that I saw all of our commissioned officers at one time. Wm. C. Gates, Captain ; I. T. Culver, First Lieutenant; C. V. Morris, Second Lieutenant, and H. C. Brainard, Third Lieutenant. Two of those are still living, Gates and Morris. The company numbered 121 men beside the commissioned officers, full up. As for our uniforms they were all O. K., being a red flannel shirt with grey pants, and was called out fatigue suit, which I found very much fatiguing at that time of the year. Think of it now, being clothed with thick woolen clothes on a dry, hot, sultry day in July. These things happened 45 years ago, and the thoughts of it today almost produces perspiration, but before I get through with my narrative, I will tell of some hot times, sure enough. We were furnished a nice suit of grey for a dress suit later on. We had all we needed then except guns and ammunition, and something pointed out to us to shoot at. The whistle of the Jackson was heard down the river at about 10 o'clock. Gates hollowed out, "Take down your tents, boys, and be ready," which we did in a hurry. The boat landed and we hurried to get everything on board. When we got everything on board, Capt. Gates formed us in line, and we marched on board ourselves. Even at this time of the night the wharf was lined with spectators to see us off. All being on board, Capt. Gates had a few words with Capt. Fry, (the Captain of the boat) when all at once, boom went the little cannon that lay at the bow of the boat, the bells began to jingle, steam was put on, the wheels began to splash the water, when our noble little band composed of J. E. Harrell, A. A. Kirkland (Gld Betsy) and Stewart Merritt, having for their musical instruments a fife, bass and kettle drums, struck up the tune of "Dixie," when the "Rebel Yell" was given in full. Gates' company needed no practice or instructions as to how to give the "Rebel Yell," a yell that became famous, and which so often caused terror and dismay in the ranks of the Yankees, and on several occasions that which we failed to do with our guns, we would accom.plish with the rebel yell. I can give it yet, and when I am at our reunions and hear and see things that invites it, I just simply turn loose in old rebel style.

Gur trip up the river was a pleasant one and was without an accident or incident worthy of note. We halted a little while at Eufaula Sunday morning. There saw some of Hart's company, the E. C, G.'s who informed us that they were going to follow us on the next steamer up. We landed that evening at 5 p. m. opposite old Ft. Mitchell on the M. &

G. R. R. in Russell County, 10 miles southwest from Columbus, Ga. We were about one and one-half miles from the camp, and we were met at the landing by the "Brundidge Guards" Capt. Lewis commanding, as an escort to camp. We formed in four ranks (Hardee's Tactics), preceded by our escort, we started for camp. Our little flag of "Red, White and Blue" that we had received from the ladies of Abbeville was placed in the hands of M. G. Maybin, our ensign, and as the Southern breeze unfurled its folds, the boys looked upon it with pride and as a reminder of those they had left behind. Our line of march lay through a large plantation owned by James Cantey, who was Colonel of the 15th Alabama Regiment, to which our company was attached. Several companies of this Regiment had already arrived and were in camp. They were from Bullock, Pike, Lee, Barbour, Dale and Russell counties and on our way to camp, many of them had stationed themselves on the wayside to look at us. A great many funny remarks were made by them, such as, there comes the red shirted boys from the piney v/oods. There comes Gates' tigers, there comes Gates' Zouaves, and many other remarks too numerous to mention. We were too dignified to reply. We were in line and had assumed the positions of soldiers, and with heads erect and with elastic step, we marched on until we arrived at our camping ground, when we broke ranks, and the fun began. This was my second stop.

Chapter VI Recollections Of The Past

We broke ranks and the fun began. "Ge-whillikins," I never in all my life saw so many soldiers and tents. The boys that had already gone into camp there gathered around us, and began shaking hands just as though they had known us all our lives, and giving us such a welcome we felt good to be there. We said to them what we pleased, and they replied as they pleased, and no one became ofl^ended; all like brothers for one common cause. Here a tie was set up, that "old father time" will never extirpate or destroy. The wagons that had been sent down to the landing on the river after our camp equippage. Soon arrived, and we began to pitch our tents in regular military order on the ground pointed out to us by an officer, whom I afterwards learned to be the Q. M. Night came on and we cooked supper, and after enjoying the usual camp gossip for a reasonable length of time we retired, and passed the night as happy as the "Buzzard bird that sported among the flowers," only to be awakened by the squeaking of the fife and beating of drums. This was at 4 a. m. and for the purpose of getting us up to answer roll call. "This is war at last boys," "we're into it," said some one. This was on the morning of the 29th of July, 1861, and the first time the roll of Gates' company had been called in a regular military form. I answered at its roll call that morning for the first time and answered at its last call near Appomattox court house in Virginia, April, 1865. Ft. Mitchell — this is our first camp, and the name suggests that there is a fort there, but not so.