ficed. 'I know it,' he replied. 'I heard you were down here, and have come to stay with you.' "In a few minutes the fighting was hand to hand. It was in the dusky twilight. A Federal cavalryman, whose horse had been shot from under him, stepped in front of Black Cloud, the horse. Col. Lamar was riding, seized the bit with his left hand and threw up his carbine with his right, and called on Lamer to surrender. Quick as lightning, he plunged his spurs into his horse's sides and tried to ride over his opponent. At the instant, as the horse reared and plunged above the soldier, he fired, and at the crack of the carbine, Lamar fell lifeless to the ground. In a few minutes I was captured. The prisoners were kept that night in an enclosure very near the place where Col. Lamar fell. I asked permission to go out and recover his body. It was granted, and under guard, four of us prisoners went out and found him right where he fell. We carried him into the place where we were confined, composed his limbs, as he lay on the ground, and then laid ourselves down by his side. He slept that night with his friends. Green be the grass above him! I never pass his grave without fancying that I can almost hear again the words he spoke when he joined me at the bridge: 'I know it, I heard you were down here, and I have come to stay with you. [Two of the worthy daughters of Col. Lamar came all the way to Nashville to attend a call meeting of the National Daughters of Confederacy.] "The Confederate volunteers were the flower of our youth. What the heart is to the oak, what the sun is to day, they were to the South. There is no virtue of the soldier they did not possess and adorn; there is no devotion in history more heroic than theirs; no patriotism more sublime. In the darkest 999 hour of the struggle they clung to their colors. Even when chilled by the suicidal blunder and crime of conscription, when duty was partly stripped of its grace, they still kept brightly burning in their hearts the vestal fires of patriotic ardor." Tributes were paid at the graves of other dead Confederates. Col. Rufus E. Lester made a brief speech, in which he said: "Not only the South and the North, but the whole world recognizes the chivalric valor and the heroic devotion to principle which characterized the Confederate soldier. They recognize the fact that he has been true to principles in adversity, and that he is as true to them to-day as he was in the days of '61 to '65. In order to mark out our paths for the future, we must look back to these men for lessons of honor, patriotism, and devotion to principle. The name of Confederate soldier, wherever it goes, is recognized as a password of true manhood." Col. J. H. Estill made a short talk: "I am no believer in the so-called 'N- South.' There never was a better type of civilization than that which existed from Virginia to Texas in 1861. The Southern people are the Americans of Americans, and ex-Confederates of to-day are representatives of an American army-not an army made up largely of foreigners and blacks fighting for pay, but defenders of American principles as handed down by the forefathers of the Republic. I believe in the old South. All progress ad development which has taken place since the war has been the work of Southern men, and the future of the South depends upon the continued efforts of Confederate soldiers and their descendants." THAT ARTILLERY AT SHARPSBURG. W. H. Healy, West Point, Va., who served on No. 1, Section 4, Woolfolk's Battery: DEAR VETERAN: I read with much interest the correspondence in reference to the "abandoned brass six-pounder" at the battle of Sharpsburg, by Capt. Beall, in VETERAN of Aug., 93, and "Rebel," Dec., '94, and Feb., '95. It appears to me things. are much mixed. I don't intend any discussion as to whether there were one or two incidents of finding abandoned guns on that memorable field. I refer to the brass piece and the four officers of the gallant old Fourteenth North Carolina, and not to the two pieces of Miller's, nor at all to Gen. Longstreet and staff. What I know about that one piece, the "brass six-pounder," is as follows: I was a member of the Middlesex Artillery (Virginia Battery); our battery being short of horses. I was one of the twenty men detailed and put with Woolfolk's (Virginia) Battery-S. D. Lee's Battalion-for this battle. I wish no more honor than having been one of those old twenty. We were soon placed in position, and then "there was work." For about two hours we held the enemy, from four to six lines of battle, in check, frequently breaking their lines, and repulsing their charges with double charges of canister, and firing as rapidly as possible, until we were about played out and, having no support, were ordered to retire. My piece was the last to leave the field; we "limbered up," and had scarcely gone one hundred yards, when a shell from Antietam Mountain killed both pole horses, and, having none to replace them, we were compelled to abandon the piece. Just as I thought that I was about to be captured, a portion of Hill's command came up out of the woods near the little brick church and opened fire on the advancing columns. I was for a few minutes between the two fires. It was a hot, sultry September forenoon. Until seeing this correspondence, I was under the impression that my old friend, the brass "six-pounder," had been captured shortly after my leaving it, and am glad to learn that it was saved, and I am satisfied that it was the brass piece worked by the four officers of the Fourteenth Ñ. C. Regiment. I most cordially agree with your Salisbury correspondent in giving full honor to D. H. Hill's Division on this occasion, and I feel assured that no soldier from Virginia, or elsewhere, who served in the army of Northern Virginia, would detract one iota from the honor of these gallant old "Tar Heels." The old veterans of DeLeon, Texas, had a meeting recently, and organized Camp Joseph E. Johnston, electing Wm. Howard Commander, and J. B. Day, Adjutant. Other officers were also elected. Messrs. Wm. Howard and James Terry were selected as delegates to the Houston reunion, with Dr. Redden and Mr. Dabney, as alternates. Upon motion of W. C. Terry, the VETERAN was adopted as official organ of the Camp. TRIBUTES TO GEN. BRAXTON BRAGG. Dr. S. H. Stout, now of Texas, has written a paper upon Gen. Braxton Bragg for the Tennessee Historical Society, of which he has long been an honored member, and gives permission for such extracts as may be desired in the VETERAN. After an interesting historic introduction, he says that Gen. Bragg's career as a Commander of armies, and his intimate personal and official relations with President Davis, influenced the promotion or the degradation of many general officers. Every expression, therefore, of Gen. Bragg concerning individuals was a subject of comment, favorable or otherwise, as he seemed to regard the applicant for promotion. was "industry personified." While commanding in the field he was always offcially accessible, but could rarely be approached socially. He Members of his staff, cognizant of his severe and continuous mental and physiclal labors, were afraid he would not take nutriment enough to sustain life. They would often send his meals to his desk and urge him to eat them there. He was a pattern of sobriety, and had not the slightest epicurean proclivity. His dispatches and all of his official papers, written by himself, were well to the point, and models of clearness and conciseness. None who approached appealing for justice, pleading for mercy, or asking a favor, ever went from his presence unheard. He would not allow needless interruptions. His prompt dismissal from his presence of all parties when their business was completed often offended even those whose requests had been granted. Referring to the unhappy state of the army after the battle of Chickamauga, the arrest of certain Generals for failure to obey orders, and then the petition of a dozen of them to President Davis that the Commanding General be relieved, induced a volunteer official conference with him by Dr. Stout. Under these conditions, Rev. C. D. Elliott, of Nashville, Tenn., who was widely known, and intimate with generals and private soldiers, in speaking with the Medical Director, said: "Ah! when passing about the many headquarters, I heard little else than discussions about the chances of promotion of various parties, and in some circles, nothing but the abuse of poor old Bragg. But whenever, or wherever I have seen him, I have found him hard at work-night and day-always laboring for the cause, thinking not of self-indulgence or personal ease, but living hard. He is respected and loved by the private soldier. He is eminently a just and, I believe, a consecrated Christian man. * * He never praises; he never permits himself to be praised or flattered. If he only had suavity of manner commensurate with his self-denying patriotism and untiring industry, what a grandly successful man he would be!" Gen. Braxton Bragg was born in Warrenton, N. C., in 1815. He was one of the thirty-seven graduates from West Point, and appointed Lieutenant of Artillery. He served in the Seminole war, and was ordered to Texas just before the war began in Mexico. He distinguished himself in the hard battle of Buena Vista. Col. Jefferson Davis also won distinction there. He was made a Brigadier-General on entering the Confederate Army; in less than a year he was a full General, and in command of the Department of Tennessee. When he had attained to the command of this army, he issued orders in expressive language against breaches of discipline, and required strictest conformity to his orders by officers as well as men. He had a soldier Court Martialed and shot for reckless disregard of orders in firing his gun on retreat, and it was reported, to the General's detriment, that he had the soldier shot for killing a chicken. In fact, the man violated orders repeatedly by firing his gun, and had finally shot a negro child. After being superseded by Joseph E. Johnston, Gen. Bragg went to Richmond and remained to confer with the President about military movements. Mr. Davis evidently never lost faith in his ability, and nobody ever questioned his patriotism. President Davis being dissatisfied with the retreat by Gen. Johnston, was inclined to supersede him, but Bragg opposed it. Mr. Davis sent him there, when he reported that Johnston's only reply as to his movements was that he wonld be "governed by the movements of the enemy." Bragg so telegraphed Mr. Davis, and requested that no change be made until he could see him in person, but in spite of this "the return flash over the wire relieved Johnston and put Hood in Command." This information was direct from Gen. Bragg to Dr. Stout. After the war, having been reduced to poverty, Gen. Bragg went to New Orleans and secured employment in his profession as Civil Engineer, but he lost his position soon through carpetbag domination. He afterward had charge of improvements in Mobile harbor. He lost his position there because he would not approve certain methods of expenditure by the general government, as he believed them detrimental to the interests of the city. The tribute concludes with some pathetic illustrations of Gen. Bragg's sympathy for his fellowman concerning the wounded soldiers whom he left on the battlefield at Murfreesboro. An account is given by Dr. A. J. Foard, who was at the time Medical Director of his army. Dr. Foard stated: * * * "The General was alone, pacing the floor, every gesture indicating great mental agony. At length, turning towards me with tears flowing down his cheeks, he said: 'Doctor, I intend to evacuate Murfreesboro, and have sent for you to consult as to what we had best do for our poor wounded men who cannot be removed.' It was decided to put Dr. W. B. Avent in charge, which suggestion relieved the General perceptibly." Again, when Dr. Stout was in Richmond, April, 1864, Gen. Bragg was talking with him about Federal prisoners at Andersonville. He said: "If the direction of Medical officers falls to you, do see that the poor fellows are supplied with good physicians and surgeons. They are entitled to the most humane treatment at our hands." A story of the lives of our Generals in charge of departments will convince the soldier who simply had to obey orders, and then was freed from responsibility, that he had the better time of the two. Why, the private soldier had no more responsibility than did his slaves in the olden time. DR. S. H. STOUT MEDICAL DIRECTOR OF HOSPITALS. Dr. Stout was born in Nashville, Tenn., March 3d, 1822. Graduated from University of Nashville, A. B,, 1839, and A. M. '42; M. D. from University of Pennsylvania, '48. Married Miss Martha M. Abernathy, of Giles county, Tenn., in '48. May 5th, 1861, he began his service in the Confederate army as surgeon of Col. (afterwards Major General) John C. Brown's Third Tennessee Regiment. In October, '71, was transferred to the hospital department at Nashville, where he was surgeon in charge until Feb., '62. In March, he was put in charge of the hospitals at Chickamauga. In July, prior to Gen. Bragg's invasion of Kentucky, he was made superintendent of all the general hospitals of the army and Department of Tennessee, which position he held to the end of the war. During Hood's campaingn into Tennessee territorial limits, in numbers of medical officers, hospitals and patients, his department exceded that under any medical director in the service. He so organized and mobilized the Department, that at the time of the surrender he had it well in hand. Dr. Stout accepted a chair in tne Atlanta Medical College, but after delivering two courses of lectures, he resigned to attend to his private interests, which were disastrously affected by the war. In 1885, the University of Nashville (his alma mater in the arts) conferred on him the honorary degree of L. L. D., in acknowldgement of his professional services, and in the cause of humanity. Forty-six years after he graduated A. B. from her halls. THE GIRL WHO PILOTED FORREST. It was Emma Sansom, a courageous girl in a home remote from other habitations on Black Creek, a stream with perilous fords near Rome, Ga., who volunteered to go with the Confederates when in hot pursuit of Gen. Streight at the time of his capture. She heard Gen. Forrest express intense concern about fording the stream, and as her father and brothers were away in the war, she wanted to do "some service" herself, and importuned her mother, who objected, but yielded when that "wizard of the saddle," as perhaps no other could have done, thrilled her with his need for a guide at once. It is said that she asked Gen. Forrest on the way to let her ride in front, as she might be some protection to him against the bullets. The young girl had no thought that it would give her fame beyond all that she had ever done or could hope to do, and that she was mounting behind the General who was fast upon making the most noted captures of the war, save only those great events when our main armies surrendered from sheer exhaustion in '65. Miss Sansom married in her mature years, but has long since crossed another dark stream, and may have conferred with General Forrest, who has done likewise, but who had previously made peace with all his enemies. TYPICAL SOLDIERS. When the First Tennessee Regiment (Turney's), was returning from Virginia to join the Western Army, then falling back to Corinth, Miss., we stopped for a few days at Bristol, Tenn., waiting transportation. We went in camp, and soon some of the boys went out to see what they could pick up in the way of provisions. In their rounds they came across a number of box cars side tracked. In some way, Ames White ascertained that one of the cars was loaded with barrels of apple brandy and molasses. Dave Newson with a squad found an auger, with it Ames crawled under the car and, lying flat on his back, he soon bored a hole through car and barrel, and out came the brandy. The boys caught it in buckets and camp kettles which they soon procured. Ames bored another hole, thinking he would get more brandy, but he struck molasses, and they saved about half of it. The squad returned to camp loaded with buckets and camp kettles, and you will guess our stay in Bristol was one long to be remembered. We lived on brandy sweetened with molasses. When The foregoing was contributed by one of the First Tennessee Regiment, but the name was mislain. Those first Tennessee fellows! They were as bad as "old Forty-one"-the Forty-first Tennessee. this regiment waited over at Atlanta, enroute from Dalton to Demopolis, Ala., the men broke into cars loaded with whisky and peanuts. What a fix they were in that night! The writer ate gluttonously of goobers, but was not as debauched as others who ate nuts and drank whisky. The North Carolinians are called "Tar Heels;" South Carolinians, "Rice Birds;" Georgians, "Goober Grabbers;" Alabamians, "Yaller Hammers;" Texans, "Cow Boys;" Tennesseans, "Hog Drivers;" Louisianians, "Tigers;" Floridians, "Gophers;" Virginians, "Tobacco Worms;" Arkansians, "Tooth-picks;" Missourians, "Border Ruffians;" Kentuckians, "Corn Crackers;" and Mississippians, "Sand Lappers." The Cavalry, "Buttermilk Rangers;" Infantry, "Webfoot." A regiment of deserters from the Federal Army, kept behind by us to build forts, "Galvanized Rebs." The Federals called us "Johnnies;" we called them "Yanks" and "Blue Bellies." See a fellow with a Bee Gum hat ride down a line, "He's a gentleman from the States." The soldiers guy him with such remarks as "Come out of that hat. I know you are thar; see your toes wigglin'." If boots are long and big, they will say, "See your head stickin' out." In passing a troop in camp, a number will look up a tree and halloo, "Come out of that tree. See you up thar." This See you up thar." This attracts, and then the laugh comes. In camp, when all is still, the monotony is broken by some forager making a hog squeal. His fellows cry out, “I'll kill any man's hog that bites me." A cavalryman, passing infantry, is accosted with "Jump off and grab a root." A by-word of the soldiers"I havn't had a square meal for three days." Soldiers in camp say to soldiers going to the front, "You'd better gim me that hat; you'll lose it out thar." Cavalry tantalization to Webfoot: "If you want to get buttermilk, jine the Cavalry." Old Webfoot replies: "If you want to catch h-1, jine the Webfoot." One of the staff, in drilling a Brigade, told them to dress up in the center about half an inch. As he would pass afterward, they'd begin, "Boys, there goes half-inch." Fun, to be sure, but it worried him shamefully. I got hold of a silver crescent on the Dalton Campaign, placed it on the left side of my hat, put on a biled shirt and a paper collar, and rode down Division line. They began on me, "Ahem! Umph! Umph! Biled shirt! Ladies' man! Parlor ornament! Take him to his ma!" On the march to Tennessee, the officer who would get them out of the sorghum patches caught it. They'd say, "Boys, there goes old Sorghum." In Cavalry, Number Four invariably held horses in battle. It was such a delightful number that when it fell upon a soldier, he would say, "Bully!" Col. Paul Anderson changed the mirth by saying, "Boys, Number One will hold horses, and you 'Bullies' will dismount." One night, one of Col. McLemore's Captains formed a line of battle by saying: "Boys, you can't see me, but dress up on my voice." Col. Anderson would say, “Dress up on my friend Brit." These things got to be bywords in those commands. Instead of "Blow the Bugle," it was "Toot the Dinner Horn." That takes me to some of our greenhorns in the drill. When we first started, a fellow in East Tennessee began drilling his Company thus: "Men, tangle into fours! By move forward! Put! Wheel into line! By turn around! Git!" A Middle Tennessee Captain, wanting his Company to cross a creek on a log, said: "Attention Company! In one rank to walk a log! Walk a log! March!" It carried you back to old times to hear the guards around a regiment halloo out, "T-w-e-l-v-e o'-c-l-o-c-k and a-1-1-'s well!" The rude and untrained soldier would play on that and say, "T-w-e-l-v-e o'-c-l-o-c-k, and as sleepy as H-1!" When a soldier goes out foraging, it is called "Going on a lark;" when he goes stealing, it is "Impressing it into service;" when a Quartermaster wants to shield his rascality, he has a favorite abstract called "L," which is used, and means "Lost in the service:" when a squad runs from the enemy, it is "Skedaddling;" the ricochetting of a a cannon ball is "Skiugling"-words whose origin began with this war. Let a stranger or soldier enter camp and call for a certain company-say, Company F. Some soldier will say, "Here's Company F!" By the time he can get there, another will cry out at the far part of the regiment, "Here's Company F!" Then the whole command will take up the refrain, until the poor fellow in vexation will sulk away. Let an old soldier recognize a passing friend, and say, "How are you, Jim?" a marching division will keep it up, with "How are you, Jim?" until the poor fellow swoons. In the army we have some of the finest mimics in the world. Let one cackle like a hen, and the monotony of camp is broken by the encore of "S-h-o-o!" Then other cacklers take it up, until it sounds like a poultry yard stirred up over a mink or weasel. Let one bray like an ass, others take it up until the whole regiment will personate the sound, seemingly like a fair ground of asses. As mimics they are perfect; as musicians, also. I met one once who said, "If you'll give me a jigger, I'll give you some 'chin music."" "He put his hand to his chin, and with his teeth made a sound like rattling bones, keeping time to his song and pat. Some of the finest singing I ever heard, and some of the best acting I ever saw, are done by the soldiers. In camp it is so delightful to hear the brass bands dispensing music in the sweetest strains. Near Atlanta, a Dutch Battery entertained us every fifteen minutes, and whilst we kept our eyes open to the music of the shells, from far away would beat upon our ears the music of the enemy's brass bands; our bands would tune up and make us oblivious to the roar of that old Battery. I tried once in the progress of battle to assimilate it to music. The sound of a minie ball-Zip! Zip! I dubbed the soprano; the roar of musketry, the alto; the lingering sound of battle, the tenor; the artillery, the basso. Now, intersperse it with the interlude of an old Rebel yell, and you've got it. As to the wit and sarcasm you hear in camp, I'd defy the world to beat it. Anyone attempting to be consequential, or unnatural, is the character to work on, and the gravest of the Chaplains cannot look upon their ridicule without smiling. A psalm-singing soldier one day gave out a distich for song, to sing to the long metre hymn of St. Thomas. Some blasphemous fellow changed it to "The possum am a cunning fowl, The Regiment broke out with the chorus, "Rye-straw! Rye-straw! Rye-straw!" "And when he wraps his tail 'round a limb, "Rye-straw! Rye-straw! Rye-straw! Rye-straw." This is shocking to us now, but when you reflect upon the idea that in their daily walk the soldiers had no way of entertainment, it was excusable to find some means of pastime and of keeping cheerful, if sacrilege is pardonable. Some of the parodies on our Southern songs should be remembered. I copy a verse to the tune of "My Maryland." (If you know the tune, sing it). Old Stonewall Jackson's in the field, Here's your mule, Oh, here's your mule! And now, since my native place is Old Jefferson, Tenn., within a stone's throw of the battlefield of Murfreesboro (Stone's River), and I think of the devastation and desolation created there by war, I will give a verse of my parody that I used to sing as I rode along in Ward's Regiment, Morgan's Cavalry. (Also to enjoy it, sing it as you read.) The yankee's heel is on thy street, I hear the tramp of the vandal's feet, Hark! I hear a rooster squall, The vandal takes them hen and all, And makes the men and women bawl, One more, on the Happy Land of Canaan, and I am done. (If you know the tune, sing it.) "I will sing you a song, as the ladies pass along, I will sing it in rhymes, and suit it to the times, ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON. C. E. Merrill resurrects this manuscript for the VETERAN, which he wrote August 18, 1869: Honor to him who only drew In Freedom's cause his battle blade, In artless truth, a simple child; Like some lone rock, 'gainst which the flow What tho' detraction grieved the heart That rose in curses on the air, The myriad hosts of human wrong. The wounded lion stands at bay! Ah! how he stood. and where he stood, Where strong men perished in their strength, On Shiloh's field of death and blood His bolted thunders fell at length! The fires of vengeance, hot and red, Far flashed where rode his knightly form; Oh, peace to him who slumbers now Our children's children bless the mold The Calcasieu Camp, U. C. V., No. 62, met at its quarters, Lake Charles, La., Feb. 8, and transacted expeditiously much important business. W. H. Albertson was chosen Commander to succeed Dr. W. A. Knapp, who is absent. The Lieutenant Commanders elected are H. C. Gill, I. A. Perkins, and J. L. Lyons. G. M. Gossett was made officer of the day, and W. L. Hutchins, Adjutant. Delegates and alternates were chosen to attend the Houston reunion, and to local duties. The Commanders were instructed by the Camp to cause the spread of the organization, known as the Daughters of the Confederacy, and to promote and aid in organizing camps of Daughters in this and Cameron parishes; also Sons of the Confederacy, and that W. A. Knapp be added to said committee. It was ordered that the CONFEDERATE VETERAN be selected as the organ of the Camp, and that a copy be subscribed for the Camp. Carried. |
