On the afternoon of the 22d of September, 1864, the 9th was ordered to
furnish a force of mounted men to march to Elk River Bridge, on the
Nashville & Decatur Railroad.
The detail was promptly made from the mounted men of each company, and,
under command of Major Lilly, senior major of the regiment, started the
same night. The force leaving Pulaski, consisting of portions of the 9th
and 10th Indiana Cavalry, being under the command of Colonel Pace, of
the latter regiment. The command arrived at Elk River Bridge about noon
of the next day. Intelligence having been received that a rebel force
was threatening Sulphur Branch Trestle, some miles further south on the
same railroad, Major Lilly was ordered to report with his command to the
commander of that post.
Late that afternoon he arrived there and reported to Col. Lathrop,
commanding the garrison occupying the earth-work constructed with a view
of protecting the trestle at that point. The garrison consisted of two
companies of colored troops. After a brief consultation between the
officers a reconnaissance was determined upon and moved out on the
Athens road about sunset. About two miles from Sulphur Branch the
advance guard was fired upon by the pickets of the enemy. Light
skirmishing ensued, and, night coming on, by the light of the enemy's
campfires, their camp was reconnoitered, and they were discovered to be
in heavy force. The enemy thus discovered proved to be the command of
Gen. N. B. Forrest, estimated at twelve thousand men, with three
batteries of artillery. On coming from Pulaski a courier line had been
established, thus keeping open communication between Major Lilly's
command and headquarters at the latter place. The courier line was under
the command of Sergeant Anderson, of Company "B." By means of this line
the situation was reported to Rousseau at Pulaski, and, in response
thereto, came the order to "hold the fort at all hazards and to the last
extremity." Major Lilly withdrew his command to the fort and established
his picket lines. It was then 9 o'clock P. M. This fort was a small,
four-bastioned earth-work, mounting two twelve-pounder Napoleon guns. It
was located upon a knoll by the railway trestle, and was commanded by
higher points within 500 to 800 yards, while on the east side within a
few hundred feet, rose a higher hill covered with timber. The remainder
of the night was spent by the men in throwing up traverses and otherwise
strengthening the fort. Firing commenced on the picket line at midnight.
It increased as the night advanced until daylight, when it was evident
the fort was being surrounded, and before sunrise the battle was on. The
parapets were manned so far as they could be with so small a force. The
members of the 9th were in position on the south and east parapets, and
on the southeastern bastion, on their left along the east parapet, were
about sixty men of the 3d Tennessee Cavalry, under command of Col.
Minnis, who had been driven into the fort the evening before; the
remainder of the work was covered by the two companies of Col. Lathrop,
who also manned the two guns, situated on the northeast and northwest
bastions. The entire strength of the force called upon to defend the
fort may thus be fairly estimated at 450 men. The 9th was armed with
Gallagher carbines, a very ineffective weapon, and on leaving Pulaski
had but forty rounds of ammunition, and probably not more than thirty
when the real fighting began.
The attack upon the fort began before sunrise, and at the first onset of
the enemy, Col. Lathrop was killed. During the brief period in which
they knew him, Col. Lathrop impressed himself upon the officers and men
of the 9th as an intelligent and gallant officer; the manner of his
death was worthy of a soldier.
About 9 o'clock Col. Minnis, who succeeded Col. Lathrop in command, was
wounded by a piece of shell and carried unconscious into the magazine.
The command then devolved upon Major Lilly. He was with his men near the
southeast bastion; they were meeting each successive charge of the enemy
with well-delivered volleys, waiting for the command to fire; husbanding
their failing ammunition, the enemy were permitted to come within close
range, showing a good front, before the order to fire was given.
Meanwhile the enemy had gained possession of the wooded hill to the east
of the fort, and their sharp-shooters from the tree-tops had the range
of every part of the fort, except immediately under the east parapet.
The artillerymen suffered severely and the brave men of the 9th were
falling along the lines. The enemy's artillery raked the works from
every direction with great destruction. From every point except the
north, where the ground rose gently across the creek into an open plain,
the rebels were in heavy force and poured into and against the fort an
incessant fire. Eleven o'clock came, and then, in the lulls of the
artillery, the gallant defenders of the old flag were gladdened by the
sounds that told them that reinforcements were engaging the enemy to the
north toward Elk River bridge, but the sounds grew fainter and died in
the distance and they knew that from that quarter no help would come.
Still they hoped for relief and still held the fort. Suddenly across the
open ground to the north appeared a heavy line of the enemy. Major Lilly
sent two messengers, one after another, across the fort to warn the
officer in command of the colored troops and to inspire his men with
coolness and firmness to meet the impending assault. Both messengers, in
making the perilous journey, were killed. Lieut. Jones, of Company M,
then volunteered to go, and in making the attempt was wounded. Placing
Captain Nation, of Company G, in command of the battalion, Major Lilly
went himself across the bloody space in safety.
The rebel line halted out of range; within the fort the ground was
strewn with the dead and wounded. The men of the 9th Cavalry were out of
ammunition; for two hours they had been whitling Springfield musket
balls to fit their carbines. The Tennesseeans were out of ammunition;
thus two-thirds of the line was left without defense. Twelve o'clock
came, and along the rebel line the bugle sounded "cease firing," and
from the north across the open plain was borne a flag of truce. It is
likely that not a member of the 9th had ever seen one before; it is more
than probable that it was now looked upon with satisfaction. Every man
had done his whole duty; they had fought like heroes; they had held a
brave army under a skillful and fighting general in check for a day,
thus giving Gen. Rosseau time to concentrate at Pulaski, and had
literally at a great cost, "held the fort at all hazards, and to the
last extremity."
Major Lilly answered the flag of truce, taking with him the Adjutant of
the 3d Tennessee, and, meeting Major Strange, Adjutant General of
Forrest's staff, after the formal salutations, Major Strange handed
Major Lilly a paper, which read:
"General Forrest demands the immediate and unconditional surrender of
the United States forces, with all materials and munitions of war, at
Sulphur Branch Trestle. In case this demand is not instantly complied
with, General Forrest can not be held responsible for the conduct of his
men."
After reading this paper Major Lilly said to Major Strange, that Sulphur
Branch Trestle would never surrender under a threat; that it was a
humiliation his command would not bear and one that should never be
asked by a soldier; that it was true his forces had suffered heavily,
but they had undoubtedly inflicted greater damage upon the enemy; that
they were still capable of inflicting greater damage; that
notwithstanding this he felt that they had done their whole duty, and on
honorable terms he would counsel a surrender. Major Lilly then rode back
toward the fort, but had not reached it when he was halted by Major
Strange, who galloped after him, saying that General Forrest wanted an
interview. He returned and met Generals Forrest and Buford. He then
repeated to General Forrest what he had said to Major Strange, and
added, that he did not believe that General Forrest could not control
his men, and if he did not he would be held responsible. In reply to
this General Forrest handed him a paper, which read in substance:
"General Forrest demands the immediate surrender of the United States
forces and materials of war at Sulphur Branch Trestle. All United States
officers and soldiers will be treated as prisoners of war.
"All officers and soldiers shall retain and be protected in the
possession of personal property.
"Officers to retain their horses, if personal property, and also to
retain their side-arms.
"All officers and soldiers to be taken to some point in the States of
Mississippi or Alabama, and there held for exchange and parole so soon
as communication can be had with General Washburne at Memphis."
Major Lilly then demanded one hour before giving an answer, meanwhile
the troops on both sides to remain status quo. The hour was given, and
he returned to the fort. Colonel Minnis had by this time recovered
sufficiently to resume command, and a counsel of war was held. The
counsel was a unit, with the exception of Colonel Minnis, in favor of
surrender. While the subject was being considered it was reported that
the enemy were moving troops, and our white flag was immediately taken
down and firing was reopened; there was a slight reply from the enemy,
the troops moved back, the bugles on the other side sounded "cease
firing," and the truce was resumed. Colonel Minnis, on being fully
informed of the condition of things in the fort, and especially of the
insufficient supply of ammunition, yielded to the opinion of the
majority. Major Lilly then returned to the post of the rebel flag of
truce, accepted the terms offered, and the surrender was made complete.
The remnants of companies were ordered into line, then stacked arms,
and, after preparing for the burial of the dead comrades, and the care
of those who were wounded, marched sadly away.
About twenty-four hours after the surrender the captured troops crossed
the Tennessee River at Mussel Shoals, some four miles above Florence,
Ala. The first rations issued to them were issued on the night of
September 27th, and consisted of old corn on the cob. This was burnt or
roasted over fire and eaten by those whose appetites were sufficiently
keen.
On the 28th of September the C. S. A. issued rations to the prisoners
the second time--this was at Okolona, Mississippi, and consisted of a
small quantity of flour and an abundance of good water. On the evening
of that day Capt. Buchanan, of the 15th Tennessee Cavalry, C. S. A.,
furnished Lieut. Harrod, of Company B, with stationery and kindly
offered to send a letter through the lines for him. Acting upon the
generous offer, the Lieutenant wrote to his wife. Written under such
circumstances, and while the disaster to our regiment was so fresh, the
letter is certain to be interesting to the 9th. It reached its
destination after some delay, is still preserved by the wife of the
general as a precious memento of the war, and is as follows:
OKOLONA, Miss., Sept. 28, 1864.
_Dear Wife_--I address you this note as a prisoner of war. One
hundred and eighty-seven men of the 9th Indiana Cavalry and three
hundred mostly 3d Tennessee Cavalry, were sent to Sulphur Branch
September 24th. Gen. Forrest attacked the place the 25th with about
12,000 men. We were about 500. The engagement lasted about four
hours after we were surrounded. Our loss was heavy. I had with me
twenty-seven of Company B. I am wounded in right leg. I will get
over it in a few weeks. The killed are: Wm. Harvey and Joseph
Hutton; mortally wounded: Corporal Kirkhoff; severe: Sergeant M. B.
Walker and Private James Hook; slightly: J. J. Winn and G. S.
Bailey. Prisoners and well are: Orderly J. V. Hinchman, Sergeant Wm.
Foster, Sergeant A. E. Anderson, Corporal Blessinger, Privates C. H.
Sears, W. V. Robinson, John Stewart, J. Craining (blacksmith), W. C.
Warner, R. Scott, J. Holloway, W. Parman, Joseph Grey, B. F. Waller,
G. B. Wilson, W. P. Read, M. Chauncy and J. Mooney Church; and no
man of Company B failed to do first-class work. In our capitulation
it was agreed that we should all be paroled soon. I have no money
with me and have on my old uniform. It is reported in camp to-night
that General Forrest has taken Pulaski with 2,000 or 3,000
prisoners. If true, all the 9th has gone up. We have eighteen miles
to go yet to the railroad--Cherokee Station. Then it is said we go
to Meridian, Miss. You will probably not hear from me again until
paroled. It may be some weeks, and it may be months.
I send this by the kindness of Capt. Buchanan, 15th Tennessee
Confederate Cavalry.
J. B. HARROD,
Lt. Company B.
Although by the terms of the capitulation, the officers were allowed to
retain their horses and side-arms, the real advantage of this
arrangement was practically not very great. Every night some horses were
missing, and when Cherokee Station (on the railroad) was reached, there
were few, if any, officers who knew where their horses were.
The day after leaving Okolona it rained heavily, and the troops encamped
for the afternoon and night in the open field. Here was issued a little
fresh beef without salt.
The boys, from the three issues--first of corn, then of flour, then of
beef,--by this time realized that the commissary of the C. S. A. was not
liberally supplied, or that those who controlled it were illiberal in
distribution.
They reached Cherokee Station the next day (29th of September),
remaining there about thirty hours. At this point all officers and
soldiers captured at Sulphur Branch Trestle and at Athens, Alabama, on
the day before, were placed on board two trains of box cars, to be taken
to Meridian, Lauderdale County, Mississippi. The 9th Indiana and 3d
Tennessee were loaded on the last train, which was some hours behind the
first. To each train a guard of about 150 men were detailed. When not
far from Iuka, the track being wet and the grade heavy, the locomotive
not of sufficient power to pull the train up, a stop was made to allow
the track to dry. The officers in charge put out guards and had fires
made on both sides of the track. The guards were tired and soon became
sleepy, and there was but one at each fire. Major Lilly conceived the
idea of capturing the guard, taking possession of and running the train
to Corinth, and then marching the guards to Memphis under a flag of
truce as prisoners.
The officers of the 9th Indiana and 3d Tennessee entered cordially into
the plan and were willing to take the boys' places at the guns. The
major then going to the officers of the colored troops, awakened up
their officers and explained his plan to them. They were afraid to
engage in the enterprise, for lack of confidence in their colored
troops. Without their co-operation the result seemed too doubtful to
justify the attempt, and it was not made.
The next day raw "sow-belly" was issued to the boys on the train. At the
stations sometimes small purchases were made of something to eat. Lieut.
Harrod remembers buying a piece (3 × 4 inches) of wheat bread of a
variety he had not seen before, heavy and solid, for which he paid $5
Confederate money. Arriving at Meridian, they were placed in a small
stockade, where they remained for a week, from which place the officers
were moved to Enterprise, Clark County, Miss., and the enlisted men and
non-commissioned officers to Cahaba, Dallas County, Ala.
The rations at Enterprise consisted of one pint of coarse corn meal to
each man daily, without salt, and a small piece of "sow-belly." Each
mess of eight was furnished a skillet and lid to bake bread in. As a
rule each mess baked twice a day, those of the mess who were well taking
their turn for a day as cook. It was a part of the duties of the cook to
divide the bread, taking the last piece for himself. The preparation of
this bread did not require any special skill nor long experience. The
art was soon acquired. It was only necessary to mix the water and corn
meal thoroughly and to grease the skillet with small bits of meat, that
the bread might be got out without being broken too much.
In October permission was given to buy such eatables as were wanted, but
not many of the officers could avail themselves of the liberty for want
of money. Salt was bought for $3 a pound; coffee, $24 a pound; molasses,
$10 a quart--Confederate money. In the stores, calico sold for $12 and
$15 a yard; muslin, $15; good boots, $500 a pair; paper of pins, $6.
These goods had been brought into Mobile through the blockade.
During the latter part of their imprisonment, after the guards had been
taken off, an invalid Confederate soldier came into the camp with a jug
of what he called "pine top whisky," and a tin cup. He offered the
whisky at 50 cents a pint. There was only one colonel in the camp. He
was an Ohio man. He bought a pint and drank it. He soon passed into an
unconscious state, in which he remained for forty hours. The "pine top"
could be depended upon. Some of the boys bought a sample pint, but
finding it to be so much inferior to the apple jack of Tennessee,
promptly discarded it.
The prisoners received some courtesies from Major Ward, Commander of the
Post, and his Adjutant. Upon one occasion, in the absence of the Major,
his Adjutant felt called upon to show some of the officers of the
regiment special attention. He invited them to headquarters, extended to
them the freedom of the establishment, which they accepted with such
good will that the fun soon become fast and furious. The Adjutant set
the pace, after a number of healths had been pledged on the absent
Major's whisky, by breaking a camp stool. This example was followed by
the invited guests, who joined in demolishing every article of furniture
in sight. The Adjutant was not in a condition to escort his guests back
to their camp, but they found their way without difficulty and knew the
reason for the issuing of an order, which was read to them next morning,
to the effect that no prisoner should visit headquarters without
permission of the Major in command.
The monotony and weariness of confinement was sometimes relieved by the
drollery of those whose love of fun could not easily be suppressed. The
prisoners were often indebted for a good laugh to Captain Nation, of
Company G, and Lieut. J. M. Jones, of Company M. A small boy rode into
the camp the smallest mule our men had ever seen under saddle. Captain
N.. who was about six feet tall, expressed a desire to ride the
"critter." The boy dismounted, and the captain, letting out the stirrups
to their full length, got into the saddle, his feet almost touching the
ground. After putting the mule through the various paces he announced
his intention of recruiting a "critter gang" for the Confederacy. Those
who heard the captain's speech on the occasion will not soon forget its
general tenor and the impression it made upon them. The speech was made
from the back of the mule to the Union prisoners, Confederate guards and
soldiers, citizens and negroes, who were attracted to the place by the
captain's voice. It is greatly to be regretted that no phonographer was
present to have taken it down literally as it came from the lips of the
Hoosier orator, that it might be incorporated in this true history. He
called for volunteers to uphold the flag of the Confederacy. He said he
was going to raise a "critter gang company." No one would be required to
walk and only to ride when it suited him; that the pay would not be any
object; that each private would be furnished with a "critter" in size
and color like the one he then rode, and should have a nigger to feed
and care for him; that this variety was superior to all others and had
been bred especially for the Confederate service, easy to mount and not
dangerous to fall from; that only a limited number of volunteers would
be received, and that now was the time to subscribe. The captain held
the undivided attention of his audience, surprising and entertaining
them with his wit and humor for a half hour, and dismounted and retired
amid great applause.
While at Enterprise our men were almost entirely shut out from the
world. The Mobile Register, costing 50 cents a copy, was occasionally to
be had, and, unrelished and unsatisfactory as it was, yet was sought and
read with great eagerness.
The privates and non-commissioned officers were marched from Meridian,
Miss., to Cahaba, Ala. This was a violation of the spirit if not the
letter of the terms of the surrender. On the march some ten days were
consumed. They were placed in a pen or stockade and were subjected to
the usual process of searching, and anything of any value found on their
persons appropriated by their captors. They were not the first occupants
of the pen. It already contained Union prisoners, literally
half-clothed, some having only a shirt, some pantaloons without shirt,
and some only a part of pantaloons, and all alive with grey-backs. The
rations issued were substantially the same as those issued to the
officers, consisting of one pint of corn meal a day and a piece of fresh
pork, one inch square every other day, although some times the
authorities forgot or failed to issue the rations for a day or two, very
much to the disgust of the boys. If the prisoners had been fastidious or
over-particular they might have complained of the custom to the prison
authorities, which cut up the meats for distribution on the same log on
which the dead soldiers were placed before burial. A Dutch skillet was
allowed to each mess of ten men, as the only cooking utensil. During the
time of their imprisonment the rains were frequent and heavy, and the
cooking being done out of doors, our men were obliged often to partially
shelter the fire with their bent bodies while cooking, to prevent the
fires from being put out. The wood used for fuel was green white pine.
The Alabama River overflowed its banks and for two weeks the pen was
flooded, the water standing from two to four feet in depth. Cord-wood
was floated in, out of which scaffolding was constructed by the
prisoners to keep themselves out of the water. During this time the
rations were eaten raw. It is needless to say that under such
conditions, without shelter, exposed to the rain, but poorly fed, men
died every day from exposure and want, and that those who survived were
weak as children. Their imprisonment which seemed so long to them, at
last was ended. The officers were sent North on parole December 10,
1864, but the enlisted men not until April, 1865, at which date they
were started North, and in their enfeebled condition, although buoyed up
by the hope of meeting friends and seeing home, it took them five days
to march from Jackson to Black River bridge, a distance of forty miles,
and when they came into the camp of their old regiment these brave
fellows looked so gaunt, famished and woe-begone that they were but
counterfeits of their former selves.
The terms of the surrender may be said to have been fairly observed,
except that the colored soldiers were sent to Mobile to labor at the
salt-works. Their officers shared the fortunes of the officers of the
white troops. Most of the prisoners of this expedition took passage soon
after their arrival at Vicksburg on the steamer Sultana, an account of
the wreck of which is given hereafter.
During their imprisonment, the officers were treated fairly well. They
were kept in prison at Meridian, Miss., about a week. The prison was a
stockade made of poles with the ends in the ground and a scaffolding
around the outside, near the top, on which the vigilant Johnny sentinel
paced his beat. There was a dead line within the stockade, to which our
boys paid marked respect. There were two log cabins in the centre of the
stockade, entirely destitute of furniture, paved with sand and the
steady companion of the boys--the gray-back. There were probably more
gray-backs than grains of sand. They kept the boys employed when
otherwise time would have lagged most slowly. The boys were not without
money (I speak of the officers). They had dead loads of Confederate New
Issue. They sold their horses for $600 to $1,000 a piece. It was a poor
scrub that would not bring $600 in the market of Meridian. Watches
brought from $500 to $1,500; knives and cork-screws from $50 to $100,
and other articles in proportion. The people had the money and wanted to
get rid of it. They were permitted to buy what the town afforded--not
furnished in their rations, which were liberal in bacon, corn meal, and
salt. After a week at Meridian, they were sent to Enterprise, a village
fifteen miles below Meridian. When unguarded, they were put on their
parole of honor not to leave the limits of the town. They took
possession of a big tobacco warehouse, converting it into a dormitory
and headquarters, but took their meals at the houses of the citizens in
town, they being glad to take the rations of the boys, with what else
they could buy, and a consideration in New Issue, in exchange for table
board. Early in December they marched from Enterprise to Memphis. There
they were ordered to report at Camp Chase, Columbus, Ohio, where they
were exchanged and reported to the regiment at Gravelly Springs, Ala.,
late in January, 1865.
The following officers of the regiment were in the action of Sulphur
Branch Trestle:
Major Eli Lilly.
Captain Nation.
Lieutenant Harrod.
Lieutenant J. W. Watts.
Lieutenant Dunlevy.
Lieutenant Canfield.
Lieutenant Leisure.
Lieutenant Riley.
Lieutenant Jones.
Acting Adjutant Geo. Armstrong.
Assistant Surgeon E. W. Magann.
Lieutenant Leisure, wounded, but not taken prisoner.
Surgeon Magann was left to care for the wounded. They were not made
prisoners, the enemy leaving them behind in their march. Lieut. Jones
was slightly wounded by concussion of a shell, being insensible for a
portion of the battle, but recovered before it ended.
The following is a list of those who were either killed or mortally
wounded:
Chauncey Kimball, Co. A.
William Harvey, Co. B.
Joseph Hutton, Co. B.
Charles A. Kirkhoff, Co. B.
Andrew J. McGahey, Co. B.
Charles Beckly, Co. H.
Cassander T. Houston, Co. B.
Stephen A. Woodruff, Co. B.
Henry Dorman, Co. K.
Abram S. Foreman, Co. K.
Curtis W. Hancock, Co. K.
George Myers, Co. K.
Josiah Saucer, Co. K.
William Torney, Co. L.
William S. Peckham, Co. L.
John J. Maple, Co. M.
Levi Maple, Co. M.
George H. McGee, Co. M.
Lewis Pickering, Co. M.
Sergeant Peckham, Co. M, killed.
Henry G. Hiatt, Co. G, killed.
The following are the names of those who were made prisoners and died in
rebel prisons:
Henry A. Rariden, Co. A, starvation.
John Robert, Co. A, starvation.
Clay Trahune, Co. A, exposure and starvation.
W. J. Foster, Co. B, exposure and starvation.
George O. Houston, Co. D.
Kelita Mendenhall, Co. E, exposure and starvation.
Lewis Jones, Co. G, exposure and starvation.
George W. Bowers, Co. G, exposure and starvation.
John R. Williams, Co. H, exposure and starvation.
Henry Brown, Co. M, exposure and starvation.
Columbus Jessup, Co. M, exposure and starvation.
The following were made prisoners at Sulphur Branch Trestle and lost by
the explosion and burning of the steamer Sultana, on the Mississippi
River, a few miles above Memphis, on the morning of April 27th, 1865:
Daniel Curtis, Co. A.
Patrick Day, Co. A.
Frederick Blessinger, Co. B.
Charles E. Church, Co. B.
Ephraim Parman, Co. B.
John Stenarl, Co. B.
John M. Englehart, Co. C.
Warren A. Huckens, Co. C.
Wm. H. H. Wood, Co. D.
John Bonner, Co. F.
Charles W. Clevenger, Co. G.
Jonathan R. Downing, Co. G.
George Downing, Co. G.
William H. Graves, Co. G.
William C. Hooper, Co. G.
Charles W. M. King, Co. G.
John M. Maynard, Co. G.
Enoch T. Nation, Co. G.
James C. Olon, Co. G.
Martin V. Rodeporch, Co. G.
John R. Reasoner, Co. G.
Nathan Thornburg, Co. G.
Franklin Ballenger, Co. H.
James Bell, Co. H.
Alonzo Dunham, Co. H.
George W. Delano, Co. H.
Josiah Pratt, Co. H.
John W. Shull, Co. H.
Hiram Bailey, Co. K.
John W. Emmons, Co. K.
George S. Fisher, Co. K.
Jacob Hurald, Co. K.
Henry Newton, Co. K.
William F. Rea, Co. K.
Joseph Survaul, Co. K.
George H. Shockley, Co. K.
Darius Stevens, Co. K.
Matthew Zix, Co. K.
James N. Christian, Co. L.
Robert A. Morehouse, Co. L.
Leander McCartney, Co. L.
John M. Armstrong, Co. M.
Joseph D. Alexander, Co. M.
William Brigg, Co. M.
George W. Blake, Co. M.
Nathan E. Gruell, Co. M.
Enos Halloway, Co. M.
William H. Huffman, Co. M.
James M. Isentrager, Co. M.
Samuel King, Co. M.
Franklin Ridley, Co. M.
Total killed at Sulphur Branch Trestle, 21
Died in prison, 11
Lost on the Sultana, 51
--
83
NOTE.--The last dispatch sent out of the fort the day of the
surrender was carried by John McCorkle, of Company B, and a member
of the 3d Tennessee Cavalry. They left the fort about 7 o'clock A.
M., and accomplished the feat by their coolness and "bold riding."
SULPHUR BRANCH TRESTLE.
BY CORPORAL J. A. BROWN, CO. L.
On Sunday, the 25th day of September, 1864, the mounted portion of the
9th Indiana Cavalry, about two hundred in number, were called to do
battle at Sulphur Branch Trestle, Alabama. Firing began on the skirmish
lines at 5 o'clock in the morning, and was kept up at a lively rate
until about 8 o'clock, when the battle began in earnest. There were with
us about one hundred of the Third Tennessee Cavalry, and there were also
about three hundred colored troops that were stationed in the fort. We
were ordered to dismount and corral our horses and climb the hill and
enter the fort, except myself and ten men, who were ordered to guard the
horses, until the battle became so hot that it was considered unsafe to
remain outside of the fort. We remained with the horses until a
cannon-ball or slug or something of the kind--anyhow, it was something
from a rebel gun--landed in about fifteen feet of us. It tore a hole in
the ground large enough to bury a small-sized cow, and threw dirt all
over us. We then thought it was time to desert the horses and let them
take care of themselves, and climb the hill and get into the fort as
soon as we could conveniently without hurting ourselves, and up the hill
we went, and when we arrived at the entrance to the fort we asked where
the 9th Indiana Cavalry was stationed. We were told that they were on
the opposite side of the fort. So we had to go through the center of the
fort to get to where our boys were stationed. That was the most
dangerous trip I ever experienced in my life. There were a lot of
barracks in the fort and the rebel cannon were playing on them and
knocking them all to pieces, and throwing the loose boards in every
direction. It made the hair raise on our heads as we went dodging
through the barracks among the flying boards and shell and cannon ball,
but we finally got to our men in safety.
The colonel commanding the fort was killed in the beginning of the
battle, and Major Lilly, of our regiment, took command, and, by the way,
Major Lilly was a hustler. He was one of the bravest officers that ever
went to the front. During the hottest of the battle one of our men got
scared so badly that he wanted to surrender. So he pulled off his shirt
and placed it upon the end of his bayonet and held it up as a flag of
truce. That got the enemy excited and they went for us hotter than ever.
They made charge after charge, but some of our boys pulled that old
dirty shirt down and made the fellow put it on again. We kept the rebs
at bay as long as we had ammunition, but at 1 o'clock we were out of
ammunition, and there we were about 800 strong, with no ammunition and
surrounded by ten thousand rebels. So we surrendered. We were then
conducted out of the fort and taken to the woods and a rebel guard
placed around us until they got ready to start to Dixie with us. While
we were waiting there a rebel captain that some of our boys had shot in
the heel in the fight rode around among us and cussed us for an hour. He
swore that if he knew which one of us damned Yanks it was that shot him
in the heel he would shoot his heart out. But we did not tell who it
was, and I don't think he has found out to this day.
Well, along towards night the rebs got ready to start with us for Dixie.
Then fun began; we marched nearly all night through the mud and under
rebel guard. Sometime after midnight we were halted and allowed to lie
down in the woods on the ground without undressing, but before daylight
we were rousted out and on the go again. This kind of business was kept
up for three long days, until we had marched something over one hundred
miles, with about enough to eat to make one good square meal. With the
Alabama red mud enough sticking to each foot to make about three brick
we finally arrived at Tuscumbia, Ala., where the rebs were operating a
kind of a one-horse railroad. There they piled us into a couple of
freight trains and we were hauled around over half of the State of
Mississippi and back again into Alabama, and were finally landed at
Cahaba, Ala., at the end of ten days from the time we were made
prisoners. We were then stripped and examined, and robbed of everything
that we possessed that was of any value. We were then marched into the
prison pen. The prison pen was a large cotton warehouse, surrounded by a
stockade with an elevated walk around the outside of the building. On
this walk the rebel guards were stationed about every forty feet with
loaded guns ready and anxious to kill any poor Yankee who might see fit
to set a foot across the dead line. There was also a walk on the inside
of the building around next to the wall, and a rebel guard was stationed
there about forty feet apart. The dead line was a mark they made about
eight feet from the inside wall, all around the inside of the building,
and no prisoner was allowed to step across that line. If he did the
orders were to shoot him on the spot, and the order was obeyed to the
letter, but we were generally careful to keep off of that dead line.
I shall never forget the morning that we were first marched inside of
that prison. The old prisoners that were there before us on seeing us
march in all seemed glad to see us, and yelled at the top of their
voices, "Fresh fish! fresh fish! Hands on your pocket-books," just as if
we had not already been robbed of everything we had by the rebs. But we
soon got used to that for we had not been there long until we yelled
"fresh fish" to other new prisoners that kept coming in every few days.
There were on an average about three thousand of us there during the six
months that we were there. Sometimes there were as many as thirty-five
hundred of us. When there was that many we could not all lie down at one
time inside of the prison. There was a cook yard in front of the prison
about seventy-five feet square, enclosed with a stockade. We were
allowed to pass out into the cook yard during the day so that we could
cook the little grub that was allowed us. Our rations consisted of one
pint of corn meal per day and a piece of fresh pork, about one inch
square, every other day, but that was not issued to us very regular.
Sometimes they would forget to issue rations to us for a day or so at a
time. It did not seem to disturb the rebels in the least to forget to
issue rations to us. We were divided into messes consisting of ten men
to the mess, and every ten men were allowed one old-fashioned Dutch
skillet and lid. In this we did the entire cooking for the ten men or
mess. So we were engaged in cooking all day, if we happened to have
enough to cook to keep the skillet going. It rained nearly the entire
time we were there. It seemed to us that it rained at least forty days
in each month, consequently we had to do the most of our cooking in the
rain. I have stood in a stooping position over the skillet for hours at
a time to keep the rain from drowning out the fire while cooking. Our
wood that we used for cooking with was generally green white pine,
nearly as hard to burn as green buckeye. We were allowed to go outside
of the prison to carry the wood in. They would let five of us out to the
wood-pile at a time; we would rush out and chop a load of wood and then
carry it in. We would form what we called the wood line, and go out as
our turns would come. I have stood in the wood line many times for a
half day at a time in the rain, and then perhaps I would not get to go
out after wood. We would do this work by turns and when we were not busy
in this way were busy fighting "gray-backs." That part of the business
we had to attend to whether we got dinner or not, for if we had
neglected to kill off the "gray-backs" once a day at least we were in
danger of being eaten up alive.
We had a regular police force of our own men. It consisted of about
thirty men. It was their duty to keep order in the prison and to punish
any one who did not conduct himself in a proper manner. If any two got
into a fight the police would at once form a ring and let them fight it
out. They would make it their business to see fair play. There were
three or four fights in the prison every day. That was a natural
consequence where there were so many men huddled in together that it was
almost impossible for them all to lie down at one time, and
half-starved, it was natural for some of them to get cross and be ready
to get up and fight at a moment's notice; but they were so weak and in
such a famished condition that they seldom ever hurt one another in a
fight. We also had a few dishonest men in the prison; they would steal
anything they could get their hands upon. The police would sometimes
punish them very severely for their misdemeanors--such as stealing, but
there was no punishment for a fair fist fight.
We undertook to break out of the prison one morning about 4 o'clock, and
captured all the rebel guards inside the prison. We took their guns from
them and put them in the privy and placed a guard over them and kept
them there nearly an hour, but the rebels on the outside got wind of it
a little too soon for us, and there happened to be more rebel soldiers
there at that time than they usually kept at that point; they rolled a
big cannon up to the door of the prison and scared us out of the notion
of breaking out at that time. The rebs called that a mutiny and issued
an order that we should have nothing to eat until we delivered up the
leaders of the mutiny. Then we thought that starvation stared us in the
face sure, for we had no idea that there was one among our number that
would give away the leaders; but alas! the leaders were sadly
disappointed, for after three days of starvation, some one--I never
could find out who he was--got so hungry that he gave the plot away and
informed on about twenty of the leaders. The rebs took the informer out
of the prison at once and gave him his freedom for his information. If
they had not taken him out of the prison he would have fared badly among
the prisoners for being a traitor.
They took the leaders of the mutiny out and punished them in various
ways. Some they put in dungeons, some in chains, and one fellow was
sentenced to be put in a four-foot square box for one hundred days. Some
of them were never heard of by us after they were taken out. We supposed
that they were killed. We were always scheming for some place to get
out. So the next thing we were up to was tunneling out. We had a tunnel
dug about fifty feet, and in a few more days our tunnel would have let
us out on the bank of the river, when the river raised and filled our
tunnel full of water, so that was all work for nothing. I had two
special friends as fellow prisoners--George W. Addington and William
Collins. We three stuck together like brothers. One day the rebs took
Addington out. Myself and Collins did not know what had become of him.
We thought that, perhaps, they had killed him for some imaginary
offence. Well, things went on as usual for about a week when a reb came
in and took Collins out, and no explanation was given, so we thought
that he was gone up also, but in another week the same reb came in and
called for me. That scared me nearly out of my boots, for I thought my
time had come sure, but to my surprise he took me to the hospital where
I found my friends Addington and Collins busily engaged in washing
clothes for the hospital. I will say now before I go further that the
hospital was for Federal prisoners only, and they required prisoners to
do all the work about the hospital. Addington had managed in some way to
get the job of washing for the hospital, and as soon as he could make an
excuse for calling in help he sent for Collins and myself. We got that
washing business down to a regular system. We would wash sheets and
pillow-slips on Monday, shirts and drawers on Tuesday, colored clothes
on Wednesday, odds and ends on Thursday, and on Friday we would boil
"gray-backs," that is, we would wash the clothes of prisoners that came
out to the hospital sick. When a prisoner was brought out of the prison
sick they would take him to an out house, strip him of his prison
clothes, and take him to another room and put hospital clothes on him,
and every Friday we had to boil and wash all clothes that accumulated in
that way. Sometimes it would be a sickening job, but it was far better
than lying in prison. We three had to work about four hours each day.
This gave us about half work and we received about half enough to eat at
the hospital, except occasionally we got something extra. We got it in
this way: The managers of the hospital were all rebs and aristocrats,
and they had negro women to carry their meals to their private rooms. Of
course they got plenty to eat and sometimes there was something left.
This the waiters always saved for us, and about two or three times a
week, after dark, our door would be pushed open and we would see a tin
pan slip in and it always had something in it good to eat, such as cold
biscuits and cold beef-steak, and it was always good, and we felt very
thankful to the colored people that run such risk in furnishing it to
us, for if they had been caught at it they would have been punished
severely for it. We were not allowed to speak to any of the colored
attendants about the hospital, but we often talked to them when there
were no rebs in sight. I once saw a prisoner that was sick but
convalescing so that he was able to walk about some, come out of the
ward in search of a fresh drink of water. He asked a colored woman for a
tin cup to drink out of, and the rebel doctor happened to hear him, and
he was sent to the prison for the offence. The next morning the poor
fellow was brought back on a stretcher dead. About the first of March,
1865, the Alabama river raised and overflowed and spread itself all over
the town and was from two to four feet deep inside of the prison. Our
boys had a terrible time of it then for about two weeks. The rebs
floated wood inside the prison for the prisoners to roost on. Our boys
had to eat what little grub they got raw, and sleep while sitting on a
pile of wood. This happened while I was at the hospital, consequently I
missed the fun of having to sit on a wood pile for two weeks and eat raw
grub. While at the hospital we always had hash for dinner. I remember
one day the hash had soured, and we liked it better, because it made a
change. About the time the river went down to its proper level we were
all paroled; then we started for Vicksburg by rail until we got to
Jackson, Miss., about fifty miles south of Vicksburg; there we had to
take it afoot. It took me just eight days to walk from Jackson, Miss.,
to Black River, forty miles. When I got there, there was just one man
with me, about twenty behind us, the others being ahead of us. At Black
River there was a pontoon bridge--a rebel guard on the south side and a
Yankee guard on the north side. We arrived there about sundown and had
to stay on the rebel side all night. Our boys on the north side were
allowed to bring us over some coffee and hard-tack, which we enjoyed
very much, as it was the first coffee that we had tasted for six long
months. The next morning we were transferred to the north side and
amongst friends. We staid at the hospital in Vicksburg a few days and
then took a hospital boat for St. Louis, and from there home.