RAID INTO NORTH ALABAMA AND MIDDLE TENNESSEE
In a short while after the Memphis raid our commander decided to go east
and break the line that was furnishing Sherman’s supplies while on his
advance into Georgia and the Carolinas.
About the first of September, 1864, we marched east to the Tennessee
River, crossing at Florence and Bainbridge, Ala.; and after several
small fights and skirmishes, we appeared before Athens, Ala., on
September 16, 1864. At this place the Union Army had a strong garrison,
defended by a fort and blockhouses. The latter defense was impregnable
to the assaults of infantry and cavalry, but an easy mark for artillery.
When we approached this stronghold, rain was falling, and I was put
forward on the skirmish line just before daylight. We marched only a
short distance before we drew the fire of the enemy. Nothing was
visible except the quick flashes of flame from the guns on either side.
We were instructed to lie down and hold our position until daylight.
After a few rounds, both sides decided to cease firing.
As the light began to dawn, our line advanced and drove the enemy inside
his fortifications.
After a quick survey of the situation, General Forrest decided that it
would be best to try to “bluff” the Union commander. Accordingly, he was
notified that Forrest’s full command was at his gates, able and ready to
overwhelm him, and that he could avert a useless sacrifice of life by an
immediate surrender. The plan worked, and the fort proper was
surrendered, and the men walked out and became prisoners.
In the west side of the town was a large blockhouse, with a full
regiment as a garrison. The commanding officer refused to surrender, and
in response to the demand he sent a defiant message, challenging the
Confederates to come and take the place. This officer thought the
attackers were only cavalry raiders, without artillery; but his
enlightenment was not long delayed. General Forrest ordered Captain
Morton to bring two guns into action. We placed the guns in a street
overlooking the fortification. The first shot barely touched the top of
the fort, and the second shot tore straight through the center. Before
the gunners could reload, a white flag was run up. We had possession of
the town and all its defenders.
While the details of the surrender were being arranged, we heard a train
coming in from the direction of Decatur. General Forrest hurriedly sent
Lyon’s regiment to fall in behind the train on its arrival and block its
return. It had brought a regiment of Union soldiers to reinforce the
garrison. They jumped from the flat cars and lined up behind a row of
cordwood along the railroad. The train hurriedly backed out and made its
escape. We were lined up on our horses, and the enemy began a very
harassing fire, which had a telling effect on men and horses. Colonel
Kelly, our commander, ordered us to dismount and charge the foe from
his position behind the cordwood. Meanwhile, General Lyon was advancing
upon the enemy’s rear, with his skirmishers well in front. The retreat
of the Union column from our attack was so rapid that it ran over Lyon’s
skirmish line and captured it. This skirmish line was in command of my
boyhood friend, Capt. Henry C. Klyce. Further on in these memoirs I
shall refer to him again. We had this new regiment at the mercy of a
simultaneous front and rear attack, and its position was hopeless.
Captain Klyce, their prisoner, told the commander that we had them
surrounded; that we had captured all the troops in the town, and further
resistance was useless. Captain Klyce protested against the injustice of
thus uselessly subjecting the Confederate prisoners to the fire of their
own men; but the Union commander stated that he would not surrender
while his men were being fired upon, and that he was unwilling to
require one of his men to go forward to announce the desire to
surrender. Then Captain Klyce volunteered to go forward and make the
announcement in the face of a brisk musketry fire. He carried a white
shirt on the point of a bayonet; and, of course, our firing ceased as
soon as he was seen, but not until he had faced the gravest danger for
the sake of friends and foes. In the midst of the brutalities of war it
is such unselfish and heroic acts as this that sublimate the spirit of
battle.
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