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[Illustration: PRIVATE F. M. MIXSON, Forty-five years after the war.]
REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE
by
FRANK M. MIXSON
Company "E" 1st S. C. Vols. (Hagood's)
Jenkins' Brigade Lee's Army
1861 1865
1910
The State Company
Columbia, S. C.
Copyright, 1910
By
The State Company
DEDICATION.
Dedicated to the Sons and Daughters of "the Lost Cause," who should know
of the valor, trials, suffering and privations of the noblest people and
the grandest army that God ever put on this earth, so that _they too_
can pass down to their children and their children's children a true
history of the great deeds of this glorious Southland, for the cause and
principles they loved so well and for which they suffered, bled and
died.
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE
In the summer of 1865 I first met Frank M. Mixson, the writer of these
reminiscences. He was then a boy of eighteen summers, with four years of
continuous service in the army of the Confederate States to his credit.
In that depressing time, when the old civilization of the South had been
prostrated by the cyclone of war, when every hope seemed forever gone
from the sky of the darkened future, he was full of the steady,
unflinching courage of the Confederate Veteran, looking with unwavering
faith to the resurrection that loyalty to principle, trust in the right
and confidence in the destiny of the Anglo-Saxon would assure in the
peace of the patient coming years.
Heroes of the Lost Cause were not then so scarce as now, and from time
to time many of the older comrades of the boy soldier told me of his
deeds of cool daring on the battle line, of mischievous life in the
winter bound camps or on the weary march.
And so the years passed, but they did not dim the memories of those who
had touched elbows with him from Charleston to Appomattox.
At my insistent request, he, now graying with years, wrote for
publication in my paper these reminiscences, as told by the winter
fireside to the grandchildren gathered under his roof tree in the
holiday time. As I read them, feeling their pathos, realizing their
value as giving pictures of the great conflict that no other actor in
that red drama had penned or voiced, the thought mastered me that these
memories were worthy of a larger audience than I could reach and that
from the Lakes to the Gulf, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, they
should find as equal welcome, rouse as equal interest in homes of the
victors by the stars and stripes as among the conquered ones whose flag
had been forever furled. So these reminiscences are given to the broader
world just as he wrote them with the hand that knew better the handling
of the musket than the holding of the pen.
Not a word or a syllable have I changed, not a thought have I suggested.
To those who read his plain, unvarnished story there will come a fuller
understanding of the spirit of the old South than the cultured
historians have written. The heart and hope of Dixie are laid bare to
sight and feeling, the courage and endurance of the legions of Lee and
Jackson, the patient, uncomplaining consecration of the women who kept
the homes and fed and clothed the thin lines that so long held back such
invincible odds. All in all, it is the best book of the many that I have
read touching the War Between the States. It gives an insight into the
life and character of the Southern soldier that must appeal to every
human heart not dead to chivalry and must win from those who were the
bitterest foes of the South and its peculiar institutions a higher
respect for and admiration of those once their enemies, but who have
cast all hate from their hearts. It is a true history. I have verified
by the testimony of as good men as breathe the air of South Carolina the
truth and accuracy of the events described.
Faithful as a soldier in the brave young morning of his life, Private
Mixson has in the afternoon of his years rendered a noble service to the
South he loved so well and the cause he served as becomes a modern
knight.
JOHN W. HOLMES,
Editor of _The People_.
Barnwell, S. C., March 5, 1910.
CHAPTER I.
The author of these Reminiscences (F. M. Mixson) was born at Barnwell
Court House, South Carolina, on the 5th day of December, 1846. I was the
nineteenth and youngest child of Wm. J. and Sarah Ann Mixson. My father
died when I was about six years old, leaving my mother a large family to
see after. My father, Wm. J. Mixson, was recognized as one of the best
men of Barnwell District and had the reputation of being one of the most
truthful and honest and best men of the State. He was familiarly known
in the District as "Uncle Billy," and his word was always taken without
dispute. My mother, before her marriage, was Sarah Ann Johnston, from
the lower part of Barnwell District, now Hampton County. She was highly
connected with the best people of the lower section of the State. She
was a woman of great business capacity, being very energetic, fine
business ability and quite industrious. They married quite young and
raised a large family.
Of my parents' families I know very little. My father had four
brothers--Joyce, Charles, Archie and Miles--all of whom lived in the
lower part of Barnwell District, between Johnston's Landing and
Matthews' Bluff, on the Savannah River. They all had good sized
families. Early in the 1850's they all moved to Florida with their
families and that State is now thickly populated with Mixsons and
Mixson descendants. Father also had four sisters. Aunt Experience
married Ben Brown and afterwards Fogler. Aunt Susan also married a Brown
(Josiah). Aunt Levisy married Robert Kirkland, of Buford's Bridge, and
Aunt Hanson married James Darlington, of the Cypress Chapel section. All
of these had families and were well to do in this world's goods.
My mother had, so far as I am informed, two brothers--Uncle Joe Johnston
being the eldest. He remained in the State, his home being in the upper
part of Beaufort District, now Hampton County. He, too, was well off in
this world's goods. He at one time represented his District in the
Legislature. In those times travel was not like now. When Uncle Joe
would leave home for Columbia, the capital, he would mount one horse,
his negro boy another with the hand-bag of wearing apparel. It would
take them some three days to make the trip. Then was the time when the
State House was a small wooden building situated on the same grounds as
now. The only place the members and public had to stop and put up was at
Granby's--a high bluff on the Congaree River, about two and a half miles
from the present State House, where there was a boarding house. Uncle
Ben Johnston moved to Shreveport, La., before the war and amassed quite
a fortune. Mother had three sisters--Aunt Charlotte married Amos Smart,
Aunt Jerusha married Henry Best--both of the Allendale section--and
Aunt Elizabeth married ---- Worton, of Bainbridge, Ga. At the death of
my father, mother immediately administered on the estate and she decided
it best to take her share and have the children's portion put in the
hands of guardians; consequently, she had everything sold, including
about sixty-five negroes. This being converted into money, the guardians
of those under age were placed in charge of it for their respective
charges.
It happened to my fortunate lot to have as my guardian the Hon. James J.
Wilson, then State Senator, and at that time a practicing attorney at
the Barnwell Bar. He, however, did not remain long in Barnwell after
taking me in charge, but returned to his plantation on the Four Mile
section of Barnwell District, near the Savannah River, which is now the
Ellenton section. I went with him and regarded that my home and was
treated as a child by both Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, they having no children
of their own except a grown son of Mr. Wilson's by a former marriage. I
would occasionally go down to Barnwell to visit my mother and family,
sometimes remaining for several weeks. I was truly fortunate in falling
into the hands of these good people. Mr. Wilson was one of the best
Christian gentlemen I have ever known, and during the many years I
remained with him I never saw nor heard any word or act but that bespoke
the true Christian, honest and lovable man; and Mrs. Wilson, too, was as
kind as a mother to me, a good woman in every sense, but who spoiled me
with kindness. I cannot, even now at sixty-four years of age, forget
their parental care and kindness to me. They have long ago gone to their
reward, a place of peace and rest prepared for such as they were and so
richly deserved by them.
The first year of Mr. Wilson's guardianship of me we spent in Barnwell.
I was then quite young, but to keep me out of mischief, I suppose, I was
sent to school in the village. This school was presided over by a Mr. H.
Melville Myers, who taught in Barnwell for many years and died there at
an advanced age.
On going up to the plantation on the Four Mile I did nothing for some
time, but finally a new school house was built by the neighborhood--the
Bushes, Dunbars, Williams, Newmans, Wilsons, and perhaps one or two
others, and a Mr. R. H. Alfred, a Campbellite preacher, was engaged to
take us in charge. Mr. Alfred was a fine scholar and teacher, and a
perfect gentleman. This school house was built about four miles from my
home and I had to walk alone. This would seem hard these times, but then
it was not so much. This school ran for more than a year, when, for some
cause, it closed. In the meantime, my mother had sold out her belongings
in Barnwell and purchased a plantation ten miles above Barnwell, on the
Hamburg Road, and known then and now as Joyce's Branch.
In the summer of 1860, there being no school on the Four Mile, and my
sister Sarah, now Mrs. Richmond, of Atlanta, having a school at Joyce's
Branch Church, I went down home and went to school to her; but she gave
up the school in the fall and was succeeded by Mr. McBride, an old
teacher of much note, who had taught so long that he knew every sum in
the Arithmetic by heart. At this time came the excitement of secession,
minute men, war _and the big comet_--all on us at one time. I had no
time for anything else, and attended every meeting of every kind. A
company of minute men was organized with Dr. Frederick as Commander.
This I joined, though not yet fourteen years old. We had our meetings
every Saturday at Fred Killingsworth's, near Cypress Chapel Church, for
the purpose of drill and to talk over the events that were happening and
things _we knew would_ happen in the very near future. I tell you, I was
proud of my cockade and wore it on every occasion. This company was not
formed with the idea of going into service as a company, but for the
purpose of meeting together, talk over matters and keep enthused. I am
proud to say, however, that when the call was made to enlist in
companies that every member of our Minute Men responded like patriots
and joined some command. I had then reached about fourteen years, and,
while I had been admitted a member of the Minute Men, there was no
company that was being organized that would consent to take me in,
especially as I could not get the consent of my mother and Mr. Wilson.
This, however, did not dampen my enthusiasm, for I just knew if I did
not get there on time the Yankees would "_lick_" _us in short order_,
hence, I determined to go whenever the troops were ordered out, consent
or no consent.
About the first of the year 1860 I returned to the Four Mile. I found
that during my absence at my mother's a young physician--Dr. Martin
Bellinger--had located in that section and had taken board at our house;
and also a nephew of Mrs. Wilson's had lately come to study law under
Mr. Wilson. I made fast friends with both these gentlemen, especially
Dr. Bellinger. Mr. Steve Laffitte was the name of the law student. He
not having much to do, and I nothing, he took me in charge for
instruction, but neither of us did much. There was also staying at our
house a great big Irishman, by name John Nicholson, a true son of Erin.
It goes without saying that Nicholson and I were the very best of
friends. The war talk continued and companies were being raised.
Nicholson volunteered in a company being raised by Capt. Wm. J. Crawley.
This company was assigned to Holcombe Legion when ordered out. I do not
remember the date, but the company was ordered to report and get
together at Williston, S. C., at a certain time. I slept with Nicholson
his last night home, and next morning I arose before daylight, without
breakfast or anything to eat, with no clothing--with nothing but
enthusiasm. I headed off for Williston, a distance of twenty-seven
miles, _a-foot_. I expected, however, that the wagons containing the men
would overtake me during the morning. I had gotten perhaps as far as
three miles on my way, walking leisurely along, meditating on the life
of a soldier, the many battles I would be in, the gallant deeds I would
do, and, above all, the host of Yankees I would kill and put to flight,
when I heard the tramp of a horse's feet coming up from the rear. I
intuitively knew what it was, but, deigning to look back, I continued my
onward course. The horseman soon overtook me, and, riding by me until he
got to a pine stump on the side of the road, he rode up to it and waited
for me, and on my approach, he (Mr. Wilson) said, "Get up," which I did,
and we retraced our way for home. Not another word but "get up" was said
during the whole time. I felt that I was being badly treated, and I had
the sulks, and Mr. Wilson, in the goodness of his heart, spared me the
humility of a lecture.
There were other companies being formed which were to form Hagood's
First South Carolina, and it was not many days before they, too, were
ordered to rendezvous at Orangeburg, S. C. I had in the meantime gone
down to my mother's; she thought the best thing for me was to be put to
the plow. This she did. I had been plowing only a few days--perhaps only
two days--when in the morning a wagon came along loaded with men on
their way to Barnwell to join Hagood there and go from there to
Orangeburg, where the famous Hagood's First South Carolina Volunteers
were organized. I did nothing less than drive my horse in a fence, jam
and load myself on that wagon. Arriving at Barnwell, Johnson Hagood met
us, and, looking us over, he spied me and said, "Frank, go back home.
Too small now; you will do later." There was nothing else for me to do
but get back again. This was some time about the first of April, 1861.
About two months after this, I could just stand it no longer, and off I
go again without saying a word to any one. I went to Charleston and over
to the Regiment and joined Company I, commanded by Capt. J. J. Brabham,
in which my brother, J. S. Mixson, was First Lieutenant. When Hagood saw
me down there he again ordered me home, and I told him I had already
joined. Besides, if he drove me away I would go somewhere else and join.
He let up, and I was happy beyond measure. The regiment at that time was
only twelve months' troops, and during the fall and winter the
reorganization for the war commenced. In the reorganization Company I
became Company C, with B. B. Kirkland as Captain. My brother, J. S., did
not re-enlist, but went to a cavalry company serving on the coast and
became Quartermaster Sergeant of the regiment. I remained with Company C
for over a year, when Ely Myrick, of Company E, and I exchanged, he
going to Company C, Capt. Kirkland, and I to Company E, Capt. Wood.
There was in Company E my eldest brother, Joyce, between whom and myself
there were seventeen children--his son, G. D. Mixson, and two Nelson
boys, who were my nephews, all of whom were several years older than I.
We were stationed on Coles Island during the winter of 1861, but after
the reorganization we were moved to James Island and remained there till
we were ordered to Virginia. Brother John and his two sons, Elliott and
Adrian, re-enlisted in Hunter's Company, Lamar's Second Artillery, and
remained in South Carolina and saw hard service on James Island. While
on James Island I would get a pass to Charleston whenever I could and
spend the day with my sister Susan, who was Sister Mary Magdeline, in
the Sisters of Mercy, and on every visit I was treated right royally by
them. I remember that before leaving for Virginia my sister placed
something around my neck, and until the string wore out and I lost it I
was never hurt, but the first fight I went into after losing this I was
wounded.