Part 4

The battery remained in this camp till Tuesday, Nov. 24th, the morning of the battle of Missionary Ridge, when camp was broken and wagons sent to rear with all camp equipage. The fighting part was ordered to top of ridge near Gen. Bragg's headquarters. There we remained with the battle field stretched out before us, simply ready to move, and viewing the great disaster to the confederate army to our left, we could take no part, could get to no point where needed. Below us, in our immediate front and to our right, our men held their own manfully. Orderlies and aids galloped to headquarters, orderlies and aid galloping away again. It filtered down to us that on our extreme left, the Yankees had gained the ridge and so taking our army on its left flank. In the afternoon came orders to us, to move to the rear. We soon found ourselves traveling rearward with lots of wounded infantry and so continued till we crossed Chickamauga creek and took a position to protect the crossing if necessary. Here we remained until next morning Nov. 25th till 9:00 a.m., the boys finding in a deserted smoke house a barrel about half full of beef tallow. It was broken up and distributed around and came in afterwards to melt up for biscuit shortening. It tasted very well, when biscuits were eaten hot, but to be eaten cold it is not to be recommended.

Hastening to Chickamauga station, we found the torch had been applied to all the warehouses and commisary supplies that our people had been unable to move during the night.

Gen. John Breckinridge was at the depot and ordered Capt. George Little, then on his staff, to get his old Kentucky Brigade and a good battery and place them in the breastworks around the depot to protect the rear in retreat.

He found Lumsden's battery and they remained with the Kentuckians until Sherman's troops had approached within a short distance and were about to cut them off on the east of the railroad, when Gen. Breckinridge ordered them withdrawn to a ridge about one-half a mile to the east where Gen. Cleburne had drawn up his division. As we crossed the railroad, shells from Sherman's battery were falling around the depot. Several women were on the station platform when the first shells hurtled past. Some dropped to their knees in prayer. The balance followed the soldiers to a barn for cover. The kneeling ones were quickly snatched to their feet and hurried away. Despite the shelling, every passing confederate took time to fill his haversack with hard-tack, sugar or anything that came handy and to secure as big a slab of bacon as he could find transportation for. Our gun carriers were regularly festooned with "Old Ned," as the boys called bacon. On the first hill east of the station the battery went into position, and as soon as the enemy appeared, opened on them and so continued to fire on their advancing lines until ordered to leave the position, and away we went at a gallop to the next available point and into battery again. So we continued all that afternoon, assisting the infantry rearguard of the army on that road, contesting the enemy's advance as much as possible. When night came we continued in a slow retreat, the road being blocked with wagons and artillery and in terrible condition with mud and ruts. A mile or two per hour being the best we could do. About midnight we came to a point where another road joined ours, along which another Corps had retreated, with a high ridge ahead of us to cross, mud being in many places axle deep. We had gotton half way up the hill, when the Yanks attacked the rear squad of the other Corps below us. We could see the opposing rifle flashes near the foot of the hill and the minie balls were singing on all sides. It took all the power of the teams and all the men who could get hold of each wheel to get those wagons and artillery carriages over that hill, and out of reach of the enemy while the infantry rear squad held our pursuers in check with a midnight fight in which no man could see another twenty feet away. Everybody and everything was of course coated with mud, but the Yankees got nothing for their pains. When the pursuing forces of Osterhau's division, sustained by Hooker's Corps reached Ringgold gap, Cleburne had prepared an ambush for them and after holding them in check until night, repulsing successive charges and inflicting heavy loss on the enemy. Gen Hardie sent an order to Cleburne, who with Gen. Breckinridge and staff, were at the gap to withdraw the rear squad to Dalton, a former member of our company, by order of Gen. Breckinridge burned the two bridges across the Chickamauga and that night the army took position at Rocky face ridge where it remained until May 6, 1864. This ended the campaign for the year as far as the reserve artillery was concerned, for when we reached Dalton, we were assigned a camp ground and at once went to work preparing quarters for the winter the date being Nov. 26, 1863.

In close proximity to a running brook and nearby springs we built log huts. Each mess was composed of individuals who associated at their own wills, without any interference of military rules or company officers. The camp was located in a nice piece of woodland, composed of oak, hickory, pine etc., on the western side of the brook or branch, from which the ground rose at a gentle slope towards the east and west, the flow being towards the north. On the eastern slope, just opposite the center of the battalion park of artillery, Major Felix H. Robertson located his headquarters camp, with Sergeant Major James T. Searcy as his aide.

Ranged along the western slope, were the four batteries of four guns each, that composed the battalion, Lumsden's on the right, then Barrett's, Massingale's and Havis' batteries. Behind the guns of each battery were the huts of the men, about one half on each side of a wide street reaching back perhaps one hundred yards, at the head of which streets were located the quarters of the officers of the companies.

Each mess built its own hut or cabin on such plan as suited themselves and their number of individuals. The commissioned officers of each company with their negro servants built their own.

The general plan of each hut was about a 12 x 14 foot space, ground brought to a level. Two sides of 16 foot poles and back end of 14 feet were notched up at the corners to a height of about seven feet. The front end consisted of a fire place and rammed earth, with a stick and mud chimney and the doorway poles notched down on the side walls at top provided joists about 7 feet above the earthen floor, on outer ends of which joists, plates were laid to support the foot of the pole rafters. Boards of four feet in length split out from cuts of straight grained pine, made a water tight roof. Cracks between the logs were daubbed with mud which soon dried. The joists were thrown on top of them and gable ends of the same kind of boards that made the room. Bunks three or four feet wide made in two tiers were at rear end and sides bottomed with small poles, and broom-sedge and oak and pine leaves, with a blanket spread over. Four-legged slabs made good benches, but many split bottom chairs were obtained from country chair makers. With a good log fire three or four feet long in the fire place and an old blanket hung in the doorway, soldiers were fixed to defy the coldest days of winter and sleep in comfort on the coldest nights. A good fat bed-fellow was a luxury not to be despised and on coldest nights, "spooning" was the prevailing fashion with covering well tucked under. When one wanted to turn over, it was necessary for the other to do the same. Sometimes they would do so by word of command as if at drill with "one time and two motions."

The daily military routine was "Reveille" at daybreak, stable call, breakfast, guard mounting, police of park and camp a citizen would call it, clearing up details to go out for forage and provisions. A few were allowed each day permits to go out into the country on private foraging expeditions, seeking to purchase chickens, eggs, milk, butter, buttermilk, vegetables, etc., gun squad drills, dinner, and in fine weather and good condition of the ground in afternoon often, field drill of which battery, with guns, caissons, teams, cannoneers, drivers and all stable call, supper, camp amusements of all kinds, tattoo and finally taps. There were two buglers in the company, Charles M. Donoho was at the company headquarters. He acted as messenger also. The other, Rufus Menander Rosser was in the same mess as the writer. One of his duties was to blow the Reveille call at a certain hour each morning. His habit was to hang his bugle on the end of house plate that extended at the door. One freezing night some of the boys emptied a gourd of water into the open mouth of the bugle, thus filling the coils of same with water. Next morning, at break of day, our friend Rosser essayed to blow "Reveille." His cheeks expand nearly to bursting, but not a note comes from the bugle, not even a part of a breath will pass through. Rosser uncovers the glowing coals amongst the ashes, pushes together the fire chunks and with his breath blows up a blaze and starts to holding bugle in same. Footsteps of boots are heard outside. They stop at our door and in pops the head of Lt. A. C. Hargrove with the question, "Rosser! why have you not blown Reveille?" But his eyes take in the situation, while he asks the question, and Rosser's answer, "Lieut., some rascal has filled my bugle and it's full of ice," is really not needed. Off stalks the Lieut. to find Donoho, and his bugle soon sings out the familiar notes. At the end of which, each man is in ranks, front faced by the Orderly Sergeant who calls the company roll and then a new day's duties are begun.

Thereafter Rosser's bugle forms part of his pillow, for allowing such a mishap to occur again would mean extra work at some drudgery. The officers daily report would show up the excuses, but the boys got some little fun out of such tricks. We were all afraid of Major Robertson. His reputation was that of a harsh disciplinarian and our company was largely composed of young men of the highest social ranks. The fear was general that for some little disobedience of orders, or some infraction of military red-tape, some punishment might be ordered by him, that the culprit would rather die than submit to something degrading. We had some object lessons. The Major's hostler came to camp one night drunk. At some order of the Major, the fellow let in and gave the officer a vile cursing, with opprobrious epithets, called him a half "Injin", etc., and worse still, common rumors had it that the Major did have Indian blood in him and he was called generally "Comanche Robertson", but its only foundation was his unusually dark complexion and eyes.

The sergeant of the guard was sent for and the obstreperous fellow forced off to the guard house. Next morning the sergeant was ordered to bring the poor devil to the Major's quarters, and hang him up by strings tied to his thumbs, with hands behind his back, till only his toes could touch the ground. So he was kept until he was almost frozen stiff. The whole command recognized the fact that the culprit deserved the severest kind of punishment. He was of a class that could not appreciate leniency and yet the men were inexpressibly shocked to see such torture. To see a confederate soldier subjected to brutal punishment under the very eyes of the insulted officer did not seem to be the proper thing. Had he been courtmarshalled and shot, it would not have shocked us half so much, but to see a white man, a volunteer serving the Confederacy subjected to a punishment that public opinion of the South would have considered brutal on even a negro slave, notwithstanding the recognized heinousness of the officer, went to our hearts.

The effect on the men in the ranks was not good, the utter helplessness of a private was brought home to us. It was hurtful to pride as Confederate soldiers serving our country for duty's sake, and fear of officers replaces badly a soldier's pride in his work. Each soldier from that time feared Robertson. Had this soldier watched his chance and murdered the officer, and then deserted to the enemy, the general opinion would have been that such action was to have been expected.

That such did not happen, showed that the disgrace was not keenly felt, by reason of the social state from which the soldier sprung, something on the New Orleans "wharf rat", order. One morning between midnight and day, one of my mess-mates was on guard at the stable lot, a mild spring morning, and the moon shining. He got tired "walking his post" so he climbed on top of the fence, under shadow of a tree and there took his seat overlooking the lot. He expected to be able easily to see or hear any inspecting officer first and to be able quietly to slide down and resume "walking his post" from under the shadow without being caught, "sitting down on a post," a disobedience of military orders always.

All at once a voice just behind him, outside the fence calls out, "Where's the sentinel here?" and there stood the Major. "Here I am, Sir!" "Get down and walk your post, Sir!" "All right, Sir!" But very shortly after, the Corporal came from the guardhouse, with a Supernumerary of the guard and relieved our friend, who was marched off to guard quarters under arrest.

Next morning he was turned over a prisoner to the charge of the succeeding guard, with a feeling of wonder hanging over him as to what sort of punishment he might expect. But he did not have to wonder long. The officer of the day came to guard quarters with instructions to give this prisoner an axe and a pick and to set him to grubbing a big pine stump in the battery park, i.e., the ground occupied by the gun carriages and caissons in regulation order. My recollection is, that the stump lasted our friend several days and that it took some little help of his body servant, Rube, in the small hours of the night to get that stump out of the ground.

The grubber was busy about it during the day, and slept around the guard house fire of a night, until the stump got out of the ground. Then he was sent for to Battalion Headquarters and our Major gave him quite a gentlemanly admonition, as to such "lapse from duty," etc., which was thankfully received and duly noted. Now this offense against military rules must needs have some punishment, and this punishment was received in good part, and there was no degradation in it. Our friend took the chances, got caught and cheerfully took his medicine without a shadow of ill will against the officer ordering it. Rather he was much obliged to him for the leniency of it. It was on a par with a quite common punishment imposed on soldiers, "straggling" on a march. One of his superior officers coming upon him a way behind his command on the road would say: "Well, what is the matter, Mr. Smith or Jones?" Oh! I just dropped out to get some water from a spring." "Were you detailed? Where's your canteens?" "No Sir! I just dropped out!" "All right, you take a rail off that fence and bring it along, and we'll go on together." There was no help for it. He'd have to "carry that rail." At least as long as the officer chose to stay along with him. When he wanted to ride ahead and leave the rail carrier, it would be, "Well Smith, I'll ride on, catch up soon, or I'll have to report you for straggling." Away the officer would go, down would go the rail, and Smith would probably catch up at the next resting place. Soldiers never minded such punishments inflicted in the line of military discipline. The more intelligent the private, the more he was cognizant of the necessity of discipline to an army, to prevent its disintegrating into a mob. The officer and the private might be close personal friends individually, but as soldiers, one commanded, the other obeyed.

During the winter quarters, an election was held for the Junior Second Lieutenant, as commonly called. The two principal candidates were Orderly Sergeant John A. Caldwell, and private Robert W. Foster, both planters sons, both equally educated, and both from Tuscaloosa County. My impression is that Foster received the most votes, and he was of a most popular disposition. It is probable that Caldwell's being Orderly Sergeant, had lost him some votes, as no man in authority, could always please everybody, and be of any account.

Then each candidate had to stand an examination by a Board of Officers in some way, Caldwell got the commission. Foster felt much that he had been treated unfairly and wrote out an application to be transferred to the Confederate Navy. This he sent to Bragg's headquarters direct, not up through the hands of company Battalion Officials. Bragg ordered him court martialled for this breach of military etiquette. The result was a verdict of guilty and a sentence to solitary confinement on bread and water diet for a certain number of days. A small log hut was built close to guard quarters 10×6 feet inside, 7 feet deep, without any door, the ceiling of heavy logs and roofed over, with the ordinary split boards. Foster had to climb over the wall and into the hut through a hole left in the ceiling for the purpose, logs were replaced, and roof also. His blankets of course were put in with him. His mess carried him, his big thick bread, and it was not all dough between the crusts. We do not think that water alone quenched his thirst. He had the sympathy of the whole command, who believed that his sentence was out of all reason, for a violation of military "red tape," and perhaps, treading on some one's corns. But Lumsden saw the ill effects, threats were being made to tear the hut down, and release him; and the finest kind of soldiers were beginning to get sulky. So he mounted his horse and went to Bragg's headquarters. What transpired there none of us ever knew, but Lumsden rode back with orders for Foster's release and restoration to duty. The whole thing was a mistake, first on Bragg's part, and lastly in the sentence placed by the officers who constituted the military court. A mere reprimand would have been ample, and not caused any sulkiness among spirited men. Forcible release of the prisoner would surely have resulted in serious consequences to many, and the possible ruining of a good command. We relate the incident as illustrating the traits of character of the two officers.

Bragg's want of tact, and Lumsden's possession of that same quality in the handling of volunteer citizen soldiers. Foster had probably more friends than ever in the whole battalion.

When not on duty, the men in camp followed their own inclinations. Books and letters and games, of all kinds. Furloughed men went home and returned for others to go. Boxes of provisions and clothing came first to one and then to another from home. Some had good musical talents, and impromptu concerts were of almost nightly occurrence. H. Calib Peterson, and others of like talents, contributed largely to the amusements of the camp, with ministrel shows and songs with banjos, bones, reed, and other accompaniments. One of the books that went the rounds was "St. Twelmo," a traversity on Miss Augusta Evans, (Mrs. Wilson), St. Elmo, the heroine of St. Twelmo being described as being such a "plenary pulchritude" with attainments to suit.

At company headquarters, when the full quota of officers was on hand, were Capt. C. L. Lumsden, Lieuts. Eb H. Hargrove, A. C. Hargrove, John A. Caldwell, and Cadet Lieut. Sykes. Also Chas. M. Donoho, bugler and messenger, and Henry Donoho, his cousin, headquarter's clerk. But it sometimes happened that every commissioned officer was away with Cadet Sykes, left in the command. Caldwell, being promoted to Lieut., J. Mack Shivers, was appointed Orderly Sergeant. The other Sergeants were John Little, James Jones, (from Autauga County,) James Cordwell and Wilds, with John Snow, quartermaster and commissary Sergeant.

The Corporals were: Thomas Owen, T. Alex Dearing, Wade Brook, and J. R. Maxwell, gunners, J. Wick Brown, John Watson, W. B. Appling, and ----, chiefs of caissons. About May 1st, 1864, Sherman moved out from Chattanooga, and Lumsden's Battery left winter quarters for good, never again to be in a permanent camp for any length of time.

It was placed on the left of railroad north of Dalton, on Mill creek gap at east end of Rocky face ridge.

Gen. Joseph E. Johnston was now in command. The whole army had lost all confidence in Bragg's ability to secure the fruits of victory, gained by the hard fighting alone, of his troops. Perryville, Murfreesboro and Chickamauga had also ended.

On May 8th, the enemy attacked Stevenson's Division, along Buzzard Roost Ridge, east of railroad, and Mill creek gap with Geary's Division. They were easily repulsed. Lumsden's battery assisting by placing a few shells in the gap on the right of the attacking Division. Geary reported a loss of 200 to 300 men, and that it was impossible to take the position by assault. As Sherman's army forged to the South west on its flanking movement, the battery was withdrawn, and on May 15th, next faced the enemy in a field of green wheat on the Oastenaula river, below the railroad bridge at Resaca, 18 miles south of Dalton, on the day of McPherson's attack at that point, but did not get to fire a shot.

The position was on the west of a gentle rise, that inclined slightly to our rear. Had infantry charged our front, a few steps forward, would have enabled us to sweep the field. A Federal rifle battery, fired at us for a while, where we lay on the ground barely covered from their fire, when one of the shells skimmed the crest of the hill, it would miss our back a foot or two and pass on with no damage to us. The ground was hot under us, and the sun shining hot down on us, but we avoided stopping any of the shots, and we could not reach them with our smooth bores. We lay there, with our guns loaded with canister, ready to stop an infantry charge, but it was all delivered farther to our right. Our monotony was released by chatting and munching the contents of our haversacks. We surely had a hot time there in the hot sun and shell combination, but we had no causalities. We had protection from Yankee projectiles, but none from those of Old Sol. It was McPherson's corps in our forest and south westward to success the Oastenaula. His rifle batteries commanded the railroad bridge, with pontoon and common bridge below. That night Johnston's army withdrew across the Oastenaula.

At Cassville thirty miles south of Resaca, on night of May 19th, Johnston had contemplated giving Sherman a general battle.

Orders were read to all commands announcing the battle for next day. Our men were ready, believing Johnston had Sherman's army where he could whip first one portion, then the other, but for reasons about which there is controversy, the attack of our right wing on the enemy the next morning was delayed, the opportunity was lost and the retreat continued. When we crossed the Etowah below Cartersville, the railroad bridge was burned and the battery went into position facing the crossing on a low, rocky ridge, in the afternoon.