THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR

Journey to Texas—John Brown’s Raid—My Secession Resolution—Presidential Election—Lincoln Elected—Excitement in the South—Secession Ordinances—“The Lone Star Defenders”—Fort Sumter Fired On—Camp Life—The Regiment Complete—Citizens’ Kindness—Mustered In—The Third Texas Cavalry—Roster.

No, I am not going to write, or attempt to write, a history of the war, or even a detailed account of any campaign or battle in which I participated, but only mean to set forth the things which I witnessed or experienced myself in the four years of marching, camping, and fighting, as I can now recall them—only, or mainly, personal reminiscences. Incidentally I will give the names of my comrades of Company C, Third Texas Cavalry, and tell, so far as I can remember, what became of the individuals who composed the company. I will not dwell on the causes of the war or anything which has been so often and so well told relating thereto, but will merely state that I had always been very conservative in my feelings in political matters, and was so all through the exciting times just preceding the war while Abolitionism and Secession were so much discussed by our statesmen, orators, newspapers, and periodicals. I had witnessed the Kansas troubles, which might be called a skirmish before the battle, with much interest and anxiety, and without losing faith in the ability and wisdom of our statesmen to settle the existing troubles without disrupting the government. But on my journey to Texas, as we glided down the Mississippi from Memphis to New Orleans, on board the Lizzie Simmons, a new and beautiful steamer, afterwards converted into a cotton-clad Confederate gunboat, we obtained New Orleans papers from an up-river boat. The papers contained an account of John Brown’s raid on Harper’s Ferry. I read this, and became a Secessionist. I saw, or thought I saw, that the storm was coming, that it was inevitable, and it seemed useless to shut my eyes longer to the fact.

The year 1860, my first in Texas, was a memorable one in several respects, not only to the newcomers but to the oldest inhabitant. The severest drouth ever known in eastern Texas prevailed until after the middle of August. It was the hottest summer ever known in Texas, the temperature in July running up to 112 degrees in the shade. It was a Presidential election year, and political excitement was intense. The Democrats were divided, while the Abolitionists had nominated Abraham Lincoln as their candidate for President, with a good prospect of electing him by a sectional vote. Several towns in Texas being almost destroyed by fire during the extreme heat of the summer, an impression became generally prevalent that Northern incendiaries were prowling through the State burning property and endeavoring to incite the negroes to insurrection. The excitement, apprehension, unrest, and the vague fear of unseen danger pervading the minds of the people of Texas cannot be understood by persons who were not in the State at that time. The citizens organized patrol forces and armed men guarded the towns, day and night, for weeks. Every passing stranger was investigated and his credentials examined. The poor peddler, especially, was in imminent danger of being mobbed at any time on mere suspicion.

At the November election Abraham Lincoln was elected President. This was considered by the Secessionists as an overt act on the part of the North that would justify secession. I was out in the country when the news of the election came, and when, on my return, I rode into Rusk the Lone Star flag was floating over the court-house and Abraham Lincoln, in effigy, was hanging to the limb of a sweet gum tree that stood near the northwest corner of the court yard. From this time excitement ran high. Immediate steps were taken by the extreme Southern States to secede from the Union, an act that was consummated as soon as practicable by the assembling of State conventions and the passage of ordinances of secession. Now, too, volunteer companies began organizing in order to be ready for the conflict which seemed to be inevitable.

We soon raised a company in Rusk for the purpose of drilling and placing ourselves in readiness for the first call for troops from Texas. We organized by electing General Joseph L. Hogg, father of Ex-Governor J. S. Hogg, as captain. The company was named “The Lone Star Defenders,” for every company must needs have a name in those days. Early in 1861, however, when it appeared necessary to prepare for actual service, the company was reorganized and the gallant Frank M. Taylor made captain, as General Hogg was not expected to enter the army as captain. Several of the States had already seceded, the military posts in the South were being captured by the Confederates and Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, was fired upon by our General Beauregard on the 12th day of April, 1861. The dogs of war were turned loose. War now became a stern reality, a war the magnitude of which no one then had any conception. President Lincoln’s first call for volunteers was for ninety-day men, and the Confederate volunteers were mustered in for one year.

Having learned that Elkanah Greer, of Marshall, had been commissioned colonel and ordered to raise a regiment of Texas cavalry, we lost no time in reporting ourselves ready to make one company of the regiment, and soon received instructions to report at Dallas, on a certain day in June, when a regiment would be formed. So on Monday morning, June 10, in the year of our Lord, 1861, we were to leave, and did leave, Rusk for Dallas—and beyond, as the exigencies of the war might determine. The population of the town, men, women, and children, were on the streets, in tears, to bid us farewell. Even rough, hard-faced men whose appearance would lead one to believe they hadn’t shed a tear since their boyhood, boo-hoo’d and were unable to speak the word “good-by.” This day of leave-taking was the saddest of the war to many of us.

After we had mounted our horses we assembled around the front of the old Thompson Hotel, which stood where the Acme Hotel now stands, when our old friend, General Hogg, standing on the front steps, delivered us a formal and a very tender farewell address. War was not unknown to him, for he had been a soldier in the early days of Texas, as well as a member of the Texas Congress in the days of the republic. He was a fine specimen of the best type of Southern manhood—tall, slender, straight as an Indian, and exceedingly dignified in his manner. As brave as “Old Hickory,” he often reminded me of the pictures I had seen of General Jackson, and he certainly had many similar traits of character. We venerated, admired, and loved him, and he was warmly attached to the company. In his address he gave us much good advice, even to the details of mess duties and the treatment of our messmates. Among other things, he said, “Don’t ever jeer at or mock any of your comrades who cannot stand the fire of the enemy. Some of you, perhaps, will find yourselves unable to do so. Some men are thus constituted without knowing it, until they are tried. So you should be charitable towards such unfortunates.” Later I found these words of our old soldier friend to be true. This ceremony ended, we sadly moved off by twos, over the hill, and up the street leading into the Jacksonville road.

As we marched forward sadness was soon succeeded by merriment and good cheer. Some of the boys composed a little song, which was frequently sung by I. K. Frazer and others as we went marching on. It began:

“The Lone Star Defenders, a gallant little band,
On the tenth of June left their native land.”

Before leaving home we had spent two weeks in a camp of instruction, and learned something of the duties of camp life and the necessary art of rolling and unrolling our blankets. We camped the first night near Jorial Barnett’s, between Jacksonville and Larissa. Two of the Barnett boys were going with us, and several from Larissa. When we reached Larissa next morning we there found a young man, Charley Watts, who was a bugler, and had been in the Federal Army, he said. He was willing and anxious to go with us, and we wanted him, as he was young and active, but he was afoot, and seemed to own nothing beyond his wearing apparel. So we appealed to the citizens, as a goodly number had gathered into the little village to see the soldiers pass, and in little more time than it takes to tell it, we had him rigged with horse, bridle, saddle, and blankets. Charley proved to be a fine bugler, the finest bugler I ever heard in either army, and he was a most gallant young fellow. We moved on, bidding farewell to Captain Taylor’s noble and patriotic old mother, as we passed her residence.

Fearing we might be left out of the regiment, we dispatched Captain Taylor and one or two others well-mounted men to go ahead and secure and hold our place for us. The ladies of Cherokee County having presented us with a beautiful flag, this we unfurled and marched through the towns and villages along the way in great style and military pomp. At Kaufman we received quite an ovation. Arriving there about ten o’clock in the morning, we were met by a deputation of citizens, who invited us to dine at the hotel at the expense of the town. This was very reluctantly declined, for we were afraid of losing time. Poor fellows, we often regretted missing that good dinner, and we really had plenty of time, if we had only known it. To show our appreciation of their hospitality we marched around the public square, displaying the flag and sounding the bugle. When we had arrived in front of a saloon we were halted and all invited to dismount and drink, without cost to us. We here spent perhaps an hour, during which time numbers of the boys entered stores to purchase small necessary articles, and in every instance pay was declined.

In due time we went into camp in a post oak grove two miles east of Dallas, a locality, by the way, which is now well within the city limits. And here we remained for some time.

Eight other organized companies were soon camped in different localities in the neighborhood, but we were still one company short. However, as there were many men, including a large squad from Kaufman County, some from Cherokee and other counties, on the ground wishing to go with us, and who could not get into the organized companies because they were all full, they organized themselves into a tenth company, which completed the necessary number for the regiment.

We spent about four weeks in Dallas County, a delay caused in good part by the necessity of waiting for the arrival of a train from San Antonio carrying United States wagons and mules captured at that post by the Confederates. The time, however, was well spent in daily drills, in feeding, grazing and attending to our horses; and then, too, we were learning valuable lessons in camp life. While here we had plenty of rations for ourselves and plenty of forage for the horses.

The citizens of Dallas County, as far as we came in contact with them, were very kind to us. Our nearest neighbor was a German butcher by the name of Nusbauman. We used water from the well in his yard and were indebted to him and his family for many acts of kindness.

On one occasion Mrs. Nusbauman complained to Captain Taylor that one of his men had borrowed her shears to cut hair with, and would not bring them back. No, she did not know the name of the offender. The captain then said, “Madame, do you know the man when you see him?” “Oh, yes.” “Well, when he comes to draw water again you sprinkle flour on his back and I will find your shears.” In a few hours one of the men came out from the well with his back covered with flour—and the shears were promptly returned.

Our next nearest neighbors were a family named Sheppard, who lived a few hundred yards south of our camp, and whose kindness was unbounded. Their house was our hospital for the time we were in their vicinity, and the three young ladies of the family, Misses Jennie Wood, Maggie, and another, were unremitting in their attentions to the sick. On one damp, drizzly day when I had a chill they heard of it somehow, and in the afternoon two of them drove up in a buggy and called for me to go home with them, where I could be sheltered, as we yet had no tents. I went, of course, recovered in one day, convalesced in about three days, and reluctantly returned to camp. In an effort to do some washing for myself, I had lost a plain gold ring from my finger, a present from Miss Cattie Everett of Rusk, and Miss Jennie Wood Sheppard replaced it with one of her own. This ring was worn by me continually, not only during the war, but for several years after its close.

I do not remember the date, but some day near the end of June “The Lone Star Defenders,” that “gallant little band,” were formally mustered into the service of the Confederate States of America, for one year. We were subjected to no physical examination, or other foolishness, but every fellow was taken for better or for worse, and no questions were asked, except the formal, “Do you solemnly swear,” etc. The company was lettered “C,” Greer’s Regiment, Texas Cavalry—afterwards numbered and ever afterwards known as the Third Texas Cavalry. We were mustered in, officers and men, as follows:

Officers—Frank M. Taylor, captain; James J. A. Barker, first lieutenant; Frank M. Daniel, second lieutenant; James A. Jones, second lieutenant; Wallace M. Caldwell, orderly sergeant; John D. White, second sergeant; S. B. Barron, third sergeant; Tom Petree, fourth sergeant; William Pennington, first corporal; Thomas F. Woodall, second corporal; C. C. Acker, third corporal; P. C. Coupland, fourth corporal; Charles Watts, bugler; John A. Boyd, ensign.

Privates—Peter Acker, John B. Armstrong, David H. Allen, James M. Brittain, R. L. Barnett, James Barnett, Severe D. Box, A. A. Box, William P. Bowers, John W. Baker, C. C. Brigman, George F. Buxton, Jordan Bass, Carter Caldwell, William P. Crawley, A. G. Carmichael, A. M. Croft, James P. Chester, Leander W. Cole, James W. Cooper, William H. Carr, W. J. Davis, James E. Dillard, F. M. Dodson, John E. Dunn, O. M. Doty, H. H. Donoho, B. C. Donald, Stock Ewin, John J. Felps, I. K. Frazer, John Germany, Luther Grimes, E. M. Grimes, J. H. Gum, L. F. Grisham, W. L. Gammage, W. D. Herndon, J. R. Halbert, W. T. Harris, D. B. Harris, Thomas E. Hogg, John Honson, Warren H. Higginbotham, R. H. Hendon, William Hammett, James B. Hardgrave, Felix G. Hardgrave, R. L. Hood, William Hood, James Ivy, Thomas J. Johnson, J. H. Jones, John B. Long, Ben A. Long, George C. Long, R. C. Lawrence, John Lambert, J. B. Murphy, William P. Mosely, John Meyers, Harvey N. Milligan, W. C. McCain, G. A. McKee, W. W. McDugald, Dan McCaskill, Samuel W. Newberry, William A. Newton, George Noland, Baxter Newman, J. T. Park, T. A. Putnam, Lemon R. Peacock, W. T. Phillips, Lemuel H. Reed, T. W. Roberts, Cythe Robertson, Calvin M. Roark, John B. Reagan, A. B. Summers, John W. Smith, Cicero H. Smith, Rufus Smith, Sam E. Scott, J. R. Starr, James R. Taylor, Reuben G. Thompson, Dan H. Turney, Robert F. Woodall, Woodson O. Wade, F. M. Wade, E. S. Wallace, R. S. Wallace, John R. Watkins, C. C. Watkins, Joe L. Welch, Thomas H. Willson, N. J. Yates.

Total rank and file—112 men.

In addition to the above list of original members, the following named recruits were added to the company after we had lost several of our men by death and discharge:

A. J. Gray, Charles B. Harris, J. T. Halbert, John E. Jones, Wm. H. Kellum, W. S. Keahey, S. N. Keahey, J. D. Miller, T. L. Newman, T. L. Nosworthy, John W. Wade, Wyatt S. Williams, Eugene W. Williams.

Total—125 men enlisted in the company.

Of these recruits, six, the first on the list, came to us in February and March, 1862; the next three joined us in April, 1862; the remaining four joined us in 1863, while we were in Mississippi.

The company consisted mainly of natives of the different Southern States, with a few native Texans. Aside from these we had Buxton, from the State of Maine; Milligan, from Indiana, and three foreigners, William Hood, an Englishman; John Dunn, Irish, and John Honson, a Swede. Milligan was a printer, and being too poor to buy his outfit when he joined us, he was furnished with horse and accouterments by our friend, B. Miller, a German citizen of Rusk.