Acord, —.Askew, John. Died since the war.Askew, N. B. Died in service, November 11, 1862.Anderson, M. L. Elected Lieutenant at Shelbyville, Tenn., in 1863; LaGrange, Tenn.Arnitt, Dick. Died since the war.Adkinson, Thomas. Killed at Atlanta.Blakeslee, C. T. Wounded severely at Murfreesboro, which disabled him for field service, and was detailed in the commissary department; Hickory Flat.Bass, R. J. Died during the war.Bailey, R. J. Killed at the battle of Murfreesboro.Booth, Joe. Living.Batte, T. Died in service.Booth, F. Near Somerville, Tenn.Bennett, —. Killed at Murfreesboro.Bennett, —. Living.Collins, Samuel. Killed in service.Collins, John.Doyle, O. N. Died in service, August 15, 1862.Ewell, Dr. A. C. Died in 1878.Farmer, John. Died in service, May, 1862.
Acord, —.
Askew, John. Died since the war.
Askew, N. B. Died in service, November 11, 1862.
Anderson, M. L. Elected Lieutenant at Shelbyville, Tenn., in 1863; LaGrange, Tenn.
Arnitt, Dick. Died since the war.
Adkinson, Thomas. Killed at Atlanta.
Blakeslee, C. T. Wounded severely at Murfreesboro, which disabled him for field service, and was detailed in the commissary department; Hickory Flat.
Bass, R. J. Died during the war.
Bailey, R. J. Killed at the battle of Murfreesboro.
Booth, Joe. Living.
Batte, T. Died in service.
Booth, F. Near Somerville, Tenn.
Bennett, —. Killed at Murfreesboro.
Bennett, —. Living.
Collins, Samuel. Killed in service.
Collins, John.
Doyle, O. N. Died in service, August 15, 1862.
Ewell, Dr. A. C. Died in 1878.
Farmer, John. Died in service, May, 1862.
Finch, B. H. Died since the war.Ferth, W. T. Died since the war.Farris, Walsh. Living in Fayette county.Gaugh, E. Died in service, December, 1862.Gates, John H. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Gordon, J. K. Died in service, January 1, 1863.Gray, H. A. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Gray, W. C. Captured and died in prison.Gates, W. H. Elected Lieutenant at organization of company; killed at Murfreesboro.Herndon, W. M. Member of the band and on infirmary corps; died since the war.Hodges, C. T. Little Rock, Ark.Jones, C. B. Elected Captain at organization of the company; severely wounded at Murfreesboro; resigned; died since the war.Jenkins, J. S. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Jenkins, S. T. Died in service, August 1, 1862.King, B. Died in service, May, 1862.Lax, R. M. Hickory Valley.Lloyd, T. P. Discharged in Kentucky for ill health.Lane, Tom. Severely wounded; arm shattered; died of yellow fever in 1878.McNamee, C. E. Wounded and died at Atlanta, Ga.Milliken, W. A. Appointed Sergeant-Major after battle of Chickamauga; Washington City.Milliken, L. H. Appointed Chaplain after resignation of W. D. F. Hafford; appointed Brigade Chaplain; died since the war.Moody, R. E. Elected Captain to succeed C. B. Jones; died since the war.Mason, David. Wounded in battle; died in service from smallpox at Murfreesboro.Mason, Tom L. Seriously wounded in the foot at Atlanta; living in Mississippi.Morton, Wm. M. Died since the war.
Finch, B. H. Died since the war.
Ferth, W. T. Died since the war.
Farris, Walsh. Living in Fayette county.
Gaugh, E. Died in service, December, 1862.
Gates, John H. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Gordon, J. K. Died in service, January 1, 1863.
Gray, H. A. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Gray, W. C. Captured and died in prison.
Gates, W. H. Elected Lieutenant at organization of company; killed at Murfreesboro.
Herndon, W. M. Member of the band and on infirmary corps; died since the war.
Hodges, C. T. Little Rock, Ark.
Jones, C. B. Elected Captain at organization of the company; severely wounded at Murfreesboro; resigned; died since the war.
Jenkins, J. S. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Jenkins, S. T. Died in service, August 1, 1862.
King, B. Died in service, May, 1862.
Lax, R. M. Hickory Valley.
Lloyd, T. P. Discharged in Kentucky for ill health.
Lane, Tom. Severely wounded; arm shattered; died of yellow fever in 1878.
McNamee, C. E. Wounded and died at Atlanta, Ga.
Milliken, W. A. Appointed Sergeant-Major after battle of Chickamauga; Washington City.
Milliken, L. H. Appointed Chaplain after resignation of W. D. F. Hafford; appointed Brigade Chaplain; died since the war.
Moody, R. E. Elected Captain to succeed C. B. Jones; died since the war.
Mason, David. Wounded in battle; died in service from smallpox at Murfreesboro.
Mason, Tom L. Seriously wounded in the foot at Atlanta; living in Mississippi.
Morton, Wm. M. Died since the war.
McCaskell, J. A. Died in service, August, 1862.McCaskell, —. Died since the war.McNeill, James A. Died since the war.Malone, Ben. Living.Oliver, John.Pledge, Wm. A. Died in 1896.Prewett, Mansfield. Grand Junction, Tenn.Prewett, Jerry. Killed at Resaca, Ga.Parham, Lee. Died since the war.Parham, App. Wounded; died from wound.Radford, John. Died since the war.Sutherland, W. A. Killed after the war.Shelton, Geo. P. Died in 1871.Scott, Reuben. Elected Lieutenant at organization of the company.Scott, Henry F. Died since the war.Shenault, Isaac. Died in service.Shenault, Joe. Tipton county.Shenault, Walter. Died in service.Sharp, John. Died in service, April 1, 1863.Sims, B. G. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Smart, John.Smith, J. M. Killed at Missionary Ridge.Ursery, John.Ursery, —.Waddell, Gray. Killed at Atlanta.Waddell, J. D. Elected Lieutenant; living.Wooten, Henry. Died in service at Knoxville, 1862.Wooten, Joe. Died at the close of the war.Winfield, M. R. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Wilkerson, W. W. Died in service, May, 1862.Wilkerson. B. W. Killed at Richmond, Ky.Winston, Ed. Middle Tennessee.Webster, B. Died in service, 1862.Winfield, W. W. (Tish.) Discharged for ill health on surgeon's certificate; died since the war.
McCaskell, J. A. Died in service, August, 1862.
McCaskell, —. Died since the war.
McNeill, James A. Died since the war.
Malone, Ben. Living.
Oliver, John.
Pledge, Wm. A. Died in 1896.
Prewett, Mansfield. Grand Junction, Tenn.
Prewett, Jerry. Killed at Resaca, Ga.
Parham, Lee. Died since the war.
Parham, App. Wounded; died from wound.
Radford, John. Died since the war.
Sutherland, W. A. Killed after the war.
Shelton, Geo. P. Died in 1871.
Scott, Reuben. Elected Lieutenant at organization of the company.
Scott, Henry F. Died since the war.
Shenault, Isaac. Died in service.
Shenault, Joe. Tipton county.
Shenault, Walter. Died in service.
Sharp, John. Died in service, April 1, 1863.
Sims, B. G. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Smart, John.
Smith, J. M. Killed at Missionary Ridge.
Ursery, John.
Ursery, —.
Waddell, Gray. Killed at Atlanta.
Waddell, J. D. Elected Lieutenant; living.
Wooten, Henry. Died in service at Knoxville, 1862.
Wooten, Joe. Died at the close of the war.
Winfield, M. R. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Wilkerson, W. W. Died in service, May, 1862.
Wilkerson. B. W. Killed at Richmond, Ky.
Winston, Ed. Middle Tennessee.
Webster, B. Died in service, 1862.
Winfield, W. W. (Tish.) Discharged for ill health on surgeon's certificate; died since the war.
The survivors of the Thirteenth Regiment, like the writer, remember most gratefully the faithful body servants who followed us during the dark and bloody period. I have endeavored to collect the names of these colored men—slaves then, but freemen at the end—and add them here to this roster, believing as I do that their personal loyalty and faithful service entitle them to "honorable mention."
Roach Howard, Company E.Berry Moore, Company E.Joe Farrow, Company C.Baltimore Tuggle, Company C.Ike Mullins, Company H.Dick Tuggle, Company C.Dave Thompson, Company H.Booker Hart, Company I.Durell Bailey, Company B.Granville Cash, Company B.Ike Jamison, Company C.Alf Ellis, Company C.Kelsey Mebane, Company B.Romeo Parham, Company G.Sam Falls, Company G.Mull Harrison, Company C.Ike Payne, Company C.
Jack Mathes, Company B.Orange Donelson, Company H.Jack Farabee, Company H.Arthur Ecklin, Company H.Young Thurman, Fourth Tenn. Regt.Henry Morgan, Company C.Jack Dyer, Company E.Daniel Harwell, Company E.Josh Burnett, Company B.Miles Mewborn, Company B.Rufus Purdy, Company I.Daniel Jones, Company L.Ben Parham, Company L.Royal Winston, Company G.Frank Chrisman, Company G.Mat Elam, Company C.
In at least two instances proof was given by the slave of heroic devotion to his master. Lieutenant Thurman was shot at Atlanta, and his body servant, Young, taking charge of him, through all sorts of hardships and deprivations, faithfully nursed him until he died. Young then dug a grave with his own hands, buried his young master, and,making his way across two States, came back to Shelby county, where the stricken father and mother heard the pitiful story from his lips of how their boy had passed away. They told Young that they wanted their boy buried at their old home; so the negro, with a wagon and team, made his way back to the unmarked grave he had dug and brought the body all the way through a thousand difficulties and dangers to the old master and mistress. I do not know that this negro is now living, but I mention his deed that those of this generation may know something of a faithfulness strong enough and great enough to command the admiration of all the world.
Another: At Belmont one of the negroes, whose name I deeply regret having lost, while the battle was yet raging, seeing his young master fall, went into the storm of shot and shell and brought the body safely back into our lines. In Edwards' beautiful story of "The Valley of the Shadder" a similar episode is told—so eloquently, so tenderly told—that it is difficult to read it without tears. The Thirteenth Regiment saw the actual occurrence at Belmont, so can bear witness for the negro to those who might think Mr. Edwards was speaking from his fancy rather than from actual facts.
Now my task is done. If this humble compilation will save from obscurity some of my old comrades—if it will add anything to the record of the fame which others have won—I have received all the reward I ask.
Some incidents and happenings took place during the war which, I think, would interest or amuse, and which do not strictly form a part of this brief compilation. I add some of them here in the hope that they may not be found dull reading to those who have followed thus far my little contribution.
This incident occurred just as the Dixie Rifles were on the eve of leaving home to go into the army, and was swallowed up in the vortex of the terrible war we then thought was to be of such short duration. I think to mention it now, for its blending of the beautiful and ludicrous will bring it back to the minds of the survivors and their descendants of Company E of the old Thirteenth Regiment.
On a glorious June morning, with just that buoyancy in the air that makes mere existence a pleasure, the company assembled in the little village of Moscow, Fayette county, to receive a most beautiful and elegant Confederate flag that the ladies of the village had made for the company. The then Miss Fannie Steger (now Mrs. Dr. R. L. Knox of Memphis) had been selected to make the presentation of the colors. I do not know if she will thank me now for attempting to bring back the speech that she, a winsome and lovely young lady, made to us on that morning. Of course I cannot recall all that she said, but I can remember enough to know that it sounded like the blast of a bugle, like the playing of exquisite music, and inspired every member of the company with intenser patriotism and with profound admiration for the fair speaker. Feeling myself(then as now) utterly incapable of making a speech, I called on a young member of the company to receive the flag from the fair hands of those who had woven it. He stepped on the platform with every appearance of self-confidence, but to his surprise and to that of all the rest of us, he found himself overwhelmed with embarrassment. Blushing, stuttering and stammering, he began with, "Ladies and gentlemen, we accept," and then broke down. After swallowing a glass or two of water, he began again, "Ladies and gentlemen, we accept," and, still stammering and stuttering, once more took water. This occurred a third time, when one of the boys called out from the rear, "D—n it, say to her, We accept the flag, and will follow it to h—l or to victory." Amid yells of applause the young man reached for the flag and sat down. This flag was kept throughout the whole war, and today, thirty-two years since the struggle ended, is carefully preserved by my friend, Dr. T. B. Yancey, of Somerville, Tenn.
While the army was in winter quarters at Dalton, Ga., an incident occurred in the Thirteenth Tennessee Regiment which has left a memory that will linger with me until the "shadows gather for the eternal night."
The regiment was reduced to less than two hundred men, and, in generosity and love, these few men determined to make me (now promoted to Brigadier-General) a present of a horse. It was difficult to find such a horse as they wanted, but Dr. Yandell of Louisville, Ky., who belonged to the medical department, had a magnificent Gray Eagle horse, for which he wanted four thousand dollars, but said that, if the regiment wanted it for their commander, he would take three thousand dollars. These few men, drawing eleven dollars per month, with their uniforms in rags, and living on half rations, agreed to buy the horse, and absolutely refused to let anyone outside of theregiment give one cent. The money was scraped up among themselves and the present made, Captain Jerry Crook of Company I delivering the presentation speech, and Captain R. F. Lanier of Company G, on behalf of his commander, the reception speech. The horse was christened "Chickamauga." I have lived to forget many things, but never will pass from my heart the gratitude I felt that day when my war-worn soldiers in their ragged gray gathered around me to show their love and confidence. If nothing else, that act alone makes dear to my heart every soldier of the Thirteenth Tennessee Regiment.
Among the most intimate friends of my evening time, I have found infinite comfort and cheer in two, who for twenty years have been a part of my life. These two, the Hon. James M. Greer and Mr. James F. Hunter, having made me almost a part of their family lives, I wrote out for their boys, Allen, Autry and Rowan Greer, and Douglass Hunter, this account of how I lost my leg, and print it here without apology to my readers.
Soon after Sherman's army was so signally repulsed on the Kennesaw line, he again commenced his flank movement, which forced our army to fall back.
On the 4th of July, 1864, one of the hottest days of the season, our army arrived at Vining Station, just below Marietta, Ga., where it was formed in line of battle, with orders for each brigade to intrench and throw up breastworks.
I was busily engaged all the morning in superintending the work, which was about completed between 12 and 1 o'clock, when, with my staff, I retired to a large spreading oak tree, about 150 or 200 yards in the rear of my line of works, to rest and to eat my scanty rations. No fighting was going on at this time except an artillery duel betweena Federal battery some distance off and a Confederate battery on my line.
After I had eaten up all the rations I had, I concluded I would take a smoke. Matches in those days were very scarce and hard to get; so I always carried with me a small sunglass to light my pipe with when the sun was shining. After tilling my pipe I noticed that the sun was shining through a small opening in the foliage of the tree under which I was sitting, and I remarked to Colonel Dyer, my Inspector-General, that I could light my pipe through the little opening. He replied that he would bet me a drink of pine-top whisky that I could not. I accepted the bet (as I was then not as punctilious about betting as I am now), and just as I was in the act of drawing a focus on my tobacco, a shell from the enemy's battery came whizzing through the air over my line and exploded just as it struck my foot and the ground, tearing off my foot and making a hole almost large enough to bury me in.
My staff were lying around under the shade of the tree, but none of them were struck by the shell or any of its fragments. Col. Dyer, who was standing over me at the time, had nearly all his clothing torn off, not by the shell or its fragments, but by the gravel that was thrown up against him. He received seventeen flesh wounds, none of which proved very serious. As soon as the shell exploded he involuntarily started to run to get behind a tree. A few days before this Col. Dyer and myself, while walking in the rear of our line on Kennesaw Mountain, noticed that a soldier with all the canteens of his company swung around him, was going after water for his company, when a schrapnel shell came over, exploded and riddled him with balls; yet he walked, or rather ran, some little distance before falling, and then fell dead. Col. Dyer told me that he had this man in his mind's eye while running, and he expected every moment to fall dead.
The shock from the explosion of the shell was very severe, yet the tearing away of my leg was accompanied by neither pain nor the loss of much blood. In addition to the loss of my foot I received another wound on my other leg which was rather remarkable. I had a cut below the knee about four inches long and down to the bone, as smooth as if it had been cut with a sharp knife, yet neither my pants nor underclothing were torn. It was so smooth a cut that when pressed together it healed by first intention. None of us were able to conjecture what made this cut. Before I would allow my removal I made my staff find my sunglass and my pipe. The rim of my sunglass was broken.
As soon as it was known that I was wounded, the surgeons of my brigade and division came to my assistance, and bound up my wounds as best they could, and gave me some morphine and whisky. I was then put in an ambulance and started to the field hospital. In going to the hospital I passed by Gen. Cheatham's headquarters, who, hearing that I was wounded, came out to sympathize with me, and suggested that as I was looking very pale he thought that some stimulant would do me good, and gave me a stiff drink. I then began to feel pretty good and proceeded on my way to the hospital. I had not gone very far when I passed Gen. Hardee's headquarters. He had heard of my misfortune and came out to see me. He also said I was looking very pale and that I ought to have some stimulant, and gave me a big drink. I continued to feel better, and again started toward the hospital, and in a short time passed Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's headquarters. He came out to see me and also said that I was looking very pale, and that some stimulant would do me good. He happened to have some very fine apple brandy, and gave me a big drink, and down it went. From this time on I knew nothing until I awoke on the platform at Atlanta at sunrise next morning.
The amputation of my leg at the point selected was an unfortunate one for me. My brigade surgeon, Dr. R. W. Mitchell, was absent at the time of my arrival at the field hospital, and the point of selection for the amputation was determined upon by a consultation of surgeons before he returned. If my leg had been cut off higher up it would have relieved me of the many days of suffering I have since experienced.
From Atlanta I was carried on a freight train in a box car, in the hottest of weather, to Macon, Ga. Dr. Mitchell accompanied me, thinking I would die before I reached the place. My sufferings were intense, but I survived, and was taken to Mrs. Josie, the wife of a quartermaster of my division of the army, who cared for and treated me as kindly as if I had been her own child.
Thus I lost my leg, and I have never seen it since.
BY GENERAL GEO. W. GORDON.(By request.)
That subdivision of the Confederate forces, known as the "Army of Tennessee," and then commanded by General Jos. E. Johnston, passed the memorable winter of 1863-4 in camp at Dalton, Ga. The winter was one of unprecedented severity—the thermometer registering in January, 1864, three degrees below zero. During the cold weather an unusual amount of snow fell for that latitude; and the chief occupations of the soldiers were getting wood, cooking, eating, and keeping warm. It was too cold to drill or to indulge in the usual out-door games, "stag dances," etc., tents being too small for these purposes. And as most of the "boys" wereyoungmen, naturally there was an accumulation of physical energy that constantly sought issue in athletic exercises. When the copious fall of snow came, it brought the opportunity not only for exercise, but for royal sport as well. But before proceeding further, let us explain that in selecting a camp, the subdivisions of the same command are placed as near together as sanitation, water supplies, the conformation of the ground and general convenience, will allow. That is to say, the regiments of a brigade are located near each other. So, the brigades of a division; and so the divisions of an army corps. General B. F. Cheatham's Division of General Hardee's Corps, was composed of four brigades of Tennesseeans,—Maney's, Vaughan's, Carter's and Strahl's, and was camped on one side of a considerable depression in the ground, not sharpenough to be called a ravine, but through which a small branch ran during wet weather. On the opposite summit and slope to this depression, and about three hundred paces from the Tennesseeans, was camped Gen. Walker's Division of Georgia troops—also of Gen. Hardee's Corps.
The day after the snow had ceased to fall, "snow-balling" first began among the men of the same companies and camps, and many interesting, exciting and clamorous contests were had for several hours. But finally a body of Tennesseeans and Georgians became arrayed against each other and very soon the contest became highly exciting. As the news spread through the camps that a fight was on hand between the Georgians and Tennesseeans, division pride and State pride became excited, the small fights ceased, and reinforcements poured in to both sides of the State forces until all interest was absorbed in one grand battle between Georgians and Tennesseeans, in which several thousand men were now engaged, making the heavens wild with shouts and the air striped with the tracks of flying snow-balls. Charge after charge was made and repulsed. Shout after shout rent the sky. For two hours or longer the battle raged, with partially varying successes. The prisoners who were captured in one charge would make their escape under the excitement of the next, and rejoin their comrades in the fight. Sometimes the assaulting columns would have to retreat because their ammunition would give out, and would, in turn, be countercharged and routed by the receiving forces who had held their ground and defended their magazines (large piles of snow-balls as high as a man's head all along the line and prepared beforehand) and were thus supplied with ammunition. Sometimes these magazines would be charged and captured by massing a force for that purpose. In these charges the supreme efforts made by the defending forces to resist the momentum of the assaulting mass, raised excitement to its wildest height. The place where a magazinewas captured was always retaken, but sometimes not until the ammunition had been used up on those making it, or carried away by the enemy into his own lines. Finally, after alternating successes of a very partial and indecisive character, the battle ceased as if by common consent and the weary combatants "rested upon their arms"—each upon his original ground and upon opposite sides of the depression, or small branch before referred to, and not more than a hundred paces apart. Neither side seemed to be satisfied. Neither was whipped and neither appeared inclined to leave the field. Besides, during this cessation of hostilities, both armies were vigorously engaged in making ammunition, which, with other demonstrations of a hostile character, clearly indicated that the battle was soon to be renewed and upon a much grander and more imposing scale than ever before.
Up to this juncture, the writer had been only a highly interested spectator of the contest from a distance, and had not expected to take any personal part in the fight. But at this moment, a messenger, and one of my own command, came running to my quarters and said that he had been sent by the Tennesseeans to ask me to come and command them, and to come mounted; that with a mounted commander to lead them, they thought they could win the fight. With my interest already highly excited, it needed no persuasion, and I told my colored boy to saddle my horse immediately. By the time he had done so, the messenger had improvised a flag for me to carry, out of an old bandanna handkerchief, about two feet and a half square, and the largest and dirtiest one, I think, I ever saw. I mounted my horse, a beautiful dappled iron grey, and with the bandanna flag in my hand, flying to the breeze, I charged to the field—my horse leaping logs, ditches and other obstructions and running faster as I approached the exciting scene. When I checked up in front of the Tennesseeans, (now in battle array) and waving my flag, such a tremendousshout shook the air that the very atmosphere seemed to quiver around and above us. Excitement was now intense, and the men wildly impatient to make the charge. Immediately after my appearance on horse-back in front of the Tennesseeans, Major ——, (whose name I regret to have forgotten) of Gen. Walker's staff, appeared mounted at the head of the Georgians. His coming was greeted with a tremendous shout fromhismen, and was answered by mine with another shout, as if to say: "We accept your challenge." Excitement was now extreme. Non-combatants had assembled by hundreds on the surrounding hills and house-tops to see the fight. General officers and their staffs, at their headquarters, had mounted their horses or ascended higher elevations to witness the impending struggle. All was now ready. And after directing the men to fill their pockets, bosoms and hands with balls, and the ordnance officers to follow the line with all the ammunition their details could carry, I ordered the charge. With a shout that signaled victory, and an impetuosity that seemed irresistible, we dashed upon the brave Georgians, and for a few minutes the struggle was fierce and furious, desperate and doubtful. The air was white with whizzing and bursting balls; men were tripped up, knocked down, covered with snow, or run over. The writer was struck with at least a hundred balls, and his horse by as many more. The momentum of the charging column was too great, however, to be successfully resisted, more especially so when it outflanked both wings of the enemy, which soon gave way. The center then being flanked, and at the same time being sorely pressed in front, also gave way, and his entire army fled in great confusion. The rout on the field was now complete, and the enemy was not only driven therefrom, but through his own camp and into the woods beyond. The object of the campaign (victory) being now accomplished, I ordered the pursuit to cease and the men to return to their camps. As they did so, however,some of them stopped in the deserted camps of the Georgians and plundered their mess chests, which had been well filled by supplies from their friends at home. When I heard of this, and reproved it as not being a legitimate object of the campaign, the reply and defense were in that questionable old maxim, "All is fair in love and war."
So far from this episode of camp life having been a source of unkind feeling between Walker's Division of Georgians and Cheatham's Division of Tennesseeans, it ever afterward seemed to be rather a bond of sympathy and union. The writer never afterward passed or met the Georgia Division, that its men did not greet him with shouts, often with "Three cheers for the Snowball Colonel!" "Colonel" was my rank at the time and "The Snowball Colonel" was the designation they ever afterward gave me. This "snowball battle" seems to have made a deep and indelible impression on all the soldiers who took part in, or who witnessed it; for one of the first questions I am often asked by old soldiers whom I have not seen since the close of the war, is: "General, do you remember the snowball battle at Dalton, Ga.?" This, and the additional fact that it is still so often a topic of conversation among the old soldiers, is, I suppose, why Gen. Vaughan has requested me to write an account of it as an appendix to his book.
In concluding this report of the celebrated snowball fight, I suppose the writer can say, without being charged with vanity, that he won more "reputation" ("that idle and most false imposition; often got without merit and lost without deserving") than in all the other battles in which he participated during the war. He is said to have performed prodigies of daring and desperation during the action, as men can generally do when there is not much danger in front, and no disgrace in defeat. With a bowed head (after the manner of a pugnacious sheep) to protect his face and eyes from the balls of the enemy, he rode rightinto and through their ranks, amid a deluging snowstorm of flying missiles, and emerged therefrom with a floating flag, but a hatless head. He congratulates his command and himself that though the battle was intensely boisterous, it was practically bloodless—the only casualties being a few blinded eyes and two or three broken arms, during an action in which not fewer than five thousand men were engaged.
The Tennesseeans were so enthused with their great victory over the Georgians, that they wanted another fight before the "weary sun," then sinking low, "had made his golden set." But as there was not time to seek it with troops in a distant camp and from a different State, they concluded to fight each other. Accordingly an issue was joined between Maney's Brigade, commanded by Col. Hume Field, mounted, and Vaughan's Brigade, commanded by the writer, also mounted. The dispositions for battle having been duly made, the charge was mutually sounded, and when the opposing lines, advancing on each other with great speed and impetuosity, clashed, the shock was tremendous. Men fell right and left, in front and rear. Some were dragged from the field, hatless and coatless, amid the greatest cheering and wildest shouts. "When Greek meets Greek, then comes thetugof war." The battle raged till all the reserves had been brought into action, when a supreme effort was made by both sides to close the fight with victory. The writer, venturing too far into the enemy's ranks, had his horse seized by as many of them as could get hold of him, and was thrown to the ground; the rider was grabbed by the head and arms (his bandanna flag going down in the wreck), and was being dragged to the enemy's rear, when a large squad of his own men seized him by the other end in an effort to recapture him, and he was raised from the ground and actually strung up between the heavens and the earth by the pulling forces at each end of him. At this moment hefeltthat his situation was nowserious indeed, and that it was time to stop such "d—n foolishness." So, by vigorous kicking, "cussing" and yelling to his men to release him, they did so, and he was left a prisoner in the hands of the enemy, but without any serious injury. In the meantime, however, his own men had captured the commander of the enemy, and as neither side now had a leader the men ceased fighting and entered into negotiations for an exchange of prisoners. By the time the exchange was effected, the ardor of the combatants had greatly cooled, and neither side seemed disposed to renew the contest.
As to the result of the fight, it may be called a drawn battle, or described by an anecdote of a darkey attached as a servant to Gen. Floyd's command in Virginia. When Gen. Floyd had been beaten and was being pursued by the enemy, the darkey moved to the rear far in advance of the retreating troops, and when he was met by a soldier going to join the command and was asked what was the news from Gen. Floyd, he did not want to admit that he had been defeated, but said: "When I lef 'em, our men wuz vancin backwards on de Yankees, and dey wuz retreatin on us." As the last beams of the setting sun gilded the icy branches of the leafless trees with the beauteous tints of the rainbow, the soldiers returned to their camps from the white field of the great "snowball battle," and retired that night with the fadeless memory of a glorious day.
Transcriber's Notes:Omitted periods repaired.Punctuation typos in rosters have been corrected for consistency.Retained period spelling of 'intrench' and its derivatives throughout.Alphabetizing errors in the Roster listings have been preserved.Linked Table of Contents has been added.Page 86: The spelling of 'schrapnel' has been retained as it appears in the original publication. ["when a schrapnel shell came over"]Page 90: Changed 'hight' to 'height'. ["raised excitement to its wildest height"]
Transcriber's Notes:Omitted periods repaired.Punctuation typos in rosters have been corrected for consistency.Retained period spelling of 'intrench' and its derivatives throughout.Alphabetizing errors in the Roster listings have been preserved.Linked Table of Contents has been added.Page 86: The spelling of 'schrapnel' has been retained as it appears in the original publication. ["when a schrapnel shell came over"]Page 90: Changed 'hight' to 'height'. ["raised excitement to its wildest height"]