In Winter Quarters, 1863 and 1864--Re-enlistment.
Christmas came as usual to the soldiers as to the rest of the world,
and if Longstreet's men did not have as "merry and happy" a Christmas
as those at home, and in the armies outside, they had at least a
cheerful one. Hid away in the dark and mysterious recesses of the
houses of many old Unionists, was yet a plentitude of "moon-shine,"
and this the soldiers drew out, either by stealth or the eloquent
pleadings of a faded Confederate bill. Poultry abounded in the far
away sections of the country, not yet ravaged by either army, which it
was a pleasure to those fixtures of the army called "foragers" to hunt
up. The brotherhood of "foragers" was a peculiar institute, and some
men take as naturally to it as the duck to water. They have an eye
to business, as well as pleasure, and the life of a "forager" becomes
almost an art. They have a peculiar talent, developed by long practice
of nosing out, hunting up, and running to quarry anything in the way
of "eatables or drinkables." During the most stringent times in a
country that had been over-run for years by both armies, some men
could find provisions and delicacies, and were never known to be
without "one drink left" in their canteens for a needy comrade, who
had the proper credentials, the Confederate "shin-plaster." These
foragers had the instinct (or acquired it) and the gifts of a "knight
of the road" of worming out of the good housewife little dainties,
cold meats, and stale bread, and if there was one drop of the "oh be
joyful" in the house, these men of peculiar intellect would be sure to
get it. So with such an acquisition to the army, and in such a country
as East Tennessee, the soldiers did not suffer on that cold Christmas
day. Bright and cheerful fires burned before every tent, over which
hung a turkey, a chicken, or a choice slice of Tennessee pork, or,
perhaps, better still, a big, fat sausage, with which the smoke-houses
along the valleys of the French Broad were filled.
It was my misfortune, or rather good fortune, to be doing picket duty
on the Holston on that day. Here I had an adventure rather out of the
regular order in a soldier's life, one more suited to the character
of Don Quixote. I, as commandant of the post, had strict orders not
to allow anyone to cross the river, as "beyond the Alps lie Italy,"
beyond the Holston lay the enemy. But soldiers, like other men, have
their trials. While on duty here a buxom, bouncing, rosy cheeked
mountain lass came up, with a sack of corn on her shoulder, and
demanded the boat in order that she might cross over to a mill and
exchange her corn for meal. This, of course, I had to reluctantly
deny, however gallantly disposed I might otherwise have been. The lass
asked me, with some feeling of scorn, "Is the boat yours?" to which I
was forced to answer in the negative. She protested that she would not
go back and get a permit or pass from anyone on earth; that the boat
was not mine, and she had as much right to its use as anyone, and that
no one should prevent her from getting bread for her family, and
that "you have no business here at best," arguments that were hard to
controvert in the face of a firey young "diamond in the rough." So to
compromise matters and allow chivalry to take, for the time being, the
place of duty, I agreed to ferry her over myself. She placed her corn
in the middle of the little boat, planting herself erect in the prow;
I took the stern. The weather was freezing cold, the wind strong, and
the waves rolled high, the little boat rocking to and fro, while I
battled with the strong current of the river. Once or twice she cast
disdainful glances at my feeble and emaciated form, but at last, in
a melting tone, she said: "If you can't put the boat over, get up and
give me the oar." This taunt made me strong, and the buxom mountain
girl was soon at the mill. While awaiting the coming of the old
miller, I concluded to take a stroll over the hill in search of
further adventure. There I found, at a nice old-fashioned farm house,
a bevy of the prettiest young ladies it had been my pleasure to meet
in a long while--buoyant, vivacious, cultured, and loyal to the core.
They did not wait very long to tell me that they were "Rebels to the
bone." They invited me and any of my friends that I chose to come over
the next day and take dinner with them, an invitation I was not loath
nor slow to accept. My mountain acquaintance was rowed back over the
Holston in due season, without any of the parting scenes that fiction
delight in, and the next day, armed with passports, my friends and
myself were at the old farm house early. My companions were Colonel
Rutherford, Dr. James Evans, Lieutenant Hugh Farley, Captains Nance,
Cary, and Watts, with Adjutant Pope as our chaperone. Words fail me
here in giving a description of the dinner, as well as of the handsome
young ladies that our young hostess had invited from the surrounding
country to help us celebrate.
Now will any reader of this question the fact that Longstreet's men
suffered any great hardships, isolated as they were from the outside
world? This is but a sample of our sufferings. We had night parties
at the houses of the high and the low, dinners in season and out of
season, and not an enemy outside of the walls of Knoxville. Did we
feel the cold? Did the frozen ground cut our feet through our raw-hide
moccasins? Did any of the soldiers long for home or the opening of the
next campaign? Bah!
It was during our stay in winter quarters, March, 1864, that the
term of our second enlistment expired. The troops had volunteered
for twelve months at the commencement of the war; this expiring just
before the seven days' battle around Richmond, a re-enlistment and
reorganization was ordered in the spring of 1862 for two more years,
making the term of Kershaw's Brigade equal with other troops that had
enlisted for "three years or the war." By an Act of Congress, in
1862, all men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five years were
compelled to bear arms. This had been extended first to forty and then
to forty-five and during Grant's memorable campaign against Richmond,
the ages ran from sixteen to fifty-five, though those between sixteen
and eighteen and those between fifty and fifty-five were to be used
only in State service. This brought out the expression of Grant to
the authorities in Washington, that "Lee had robbed the cradle and the
grave." Our re-enlistment was only a form, no change in officers or
organization. Some few failed to voluntarily re-enlist, not with any
view to quit the army, but some had grown weary of the hard marches of
the infantry service and wished to join the cavalry. However, when the
morning came for re-enlistment the troops were called out in line of
regiments and a call made by the Colonel to all who were willing to
enlist for the war to step two paces to the front. All, with the very
fewest exceptions, stepped proudly to the front. Of course, none were
permitted to leave his company for the cavalry, as that branch of
the service was yet filled to its full quota, its ranks had in no
discernable degree been depleted by the casualties of war. It seemed
that fortune favored our troopers, for battle as they would, none were
scarcely ever wounded, and a less number killed. Infantry soldiers
were furloughed, through wounds, by the thousands, and artillerymen by
the hundreds, after every great battle, but the cavalryman was denied
this luxury, and his only hope in a furlough was a short leave of
absence to replace a wornout horse that had fallen by the wayside.
Their ranks of furloughed men in this line were usually quite full.
As for returning to their homes, no soldier, however humble his
station, either in the army or socially at home, would have dared
to leave the service had a discharge been offered him. A man in good
health and with stout limbs preferred facing bullets and even death,
rather than bracing the scorn and contempt the women of the South had
for the man who failed his country when his services were needed. No
man, however brave, would have had the hardihood to meet his wife or
mother unless "with his shield or on it" in this hour of his country's
need. There were some few exemptions in the conscript law; one
particularly was where all the men in a neighborhood had gone or was
ordered to the front, one old man to five plantations, on which were
slaves, was exempted to look after said farms, manage the negroes, and
collect the government taxes or tithes. These tithes were one-tenth of
all that was raised on a plantation--cotton, corn, oats, peas, wheat,
potatoes, sorghum, etc.--to be delivered to a government agent,
generally a disabled soldier, and by him forwarded to the army.
During the winter most of the vacancies in company and field officers
were filled by promotion, according to rank. In most cases, the office
of Third Lieutenant was left to the choice of the men, in pursuance to
the old Democratic principle, "government by the will of the people."
Non-commissioned officers usually went up by seniority, where
competent, the same as the commissioned officers.
All these vacancies were occasioned by the casualties of war during
the Pennsylvania, Chickamauga, and Knoxville campaigns. The Seventh,
Fifteenth, and Third Battalion were without field officers. Captain
Huggins was placed in command of the Seventh, and Captain Whiter, the
Third Battalion. No promotions could be made in the latter, as Major
Miller and Colonel Rice had not resigned, although both were disabled
for active service in consequence of wounds.
There was considerable wrangling in the Fifteenth over the promotion
to the Colonelcy. Captain F.S. Lewie, of Lexington, claimed it by
seniority of rank, being senior Captain in the regiment. Captain
J.B. Davis, of Fairfield, claimed it under an Act of the Confederate
Congress in regard to the rank of old United States officers entering
the Confederate service--that the officers of the old army should hold
their grade and rank in the Confederate Army, the same as before
their joining the South, irrespective of the date of these commissions
issued by the war department. Or, in other words, a Lieutenant in the
United States Army should not be given a commission over a Captain, or
a Captain, over a Major, Lieutenant Colonel, or Colonel, etc., in the
Southern Army. As all the old army officers entering the service of
the South at different periods, and all wanted a Generalship, so this
mode of ranking was adopted, as promising greater harmony and better
results. Captain Davis had been a Captain in the State service, having
commanded a company in Gregg's six months' troops around Charleston.
And, furthermore, Davis was a West Pointer--a good disciplinarian,
brave, resolute, and an all round good officer. Still Lewie was his
peer in every respect, with the exception of early military training.
Both were graduates of medical colleges--well educated, cultured, and
both high-toned gentlemen of the "Old School." But Lewie was
subject to serious attacks of a certain disease, which frequently
incapacitated him for duty, and on marches he was often unable to
walk, and had to be hauled for days in the ambulance. Then Lewie's
patriotism was greater than his ambition, and he was willing to
serve in any position for the good of the service and for the sake of
harmony. Captain Lewie thus voluntarily yielded his just claims to the
Colonelcy to Captain Davis, and accepted the position of Lieutenant
Colonel, places both filled to the end.
* * * * *
COLONEL J.B. DAVIS.
Colonel J.B. Davis was born in Fairfield County, of Scotch-Irish
decent, about the year 1835. He received his early education in the
schools of the country, at Mount Zion Academy, at Winnsboro, in same
county. Afterwards he was admitted to the United States Military
School, at West Point, but after remaining for two years, resigned and
commenced the study of medicine. He graduated some years before the
war, and entered upon the practice of his profession in the western
part of the county. He was elected Captain of the first company raised
in Fairfield, and served in Gregg's first six mouths' volunteers
in Charleston. After the fall of Sumter, his company, with several
others, disbanded.
Returning home, he organized a company for the Confederate service,
was elected Captain, and joined the Fifteenth Regiment, then forming
in Columbia under Colonel DeSaussure. He was in all the battles of the
Maryland campaign, in the brigade under General Drayton, and in all
the great battles with Kershaw's Brigade. In the winter of 1863 he was
made Colonel of the Fifteenth, and served with his regiment until the
surrender. On several occasions he was in command of the brigade, as
senior Colonel present. He was in command at Cold Harbor after
the death of Colonel Keitt. Colonel Davis was one among the best
tacticians in the command; had a soldierly appearance--tall,
well-developed, a commanding voice, and an all round good officer.
He returned home after the war and began the practice of medicine, and
continues it to the present.
* * * * *
COLONEL F.S. LEWIE.
Colonel F.S. Lewie was born in Lexington County, in 1830, and received
his early training there. He attended the High School at Monticello,
in Fairfield County. He taught school for awhile, then began the study
of medicine. He attended the "College of Physicians and Surgeons"
in Paris, France, for two years, returning a short while before the
breaking out of hostilities between the North and South.
At the outbreak of the war he joined Captain Gibbs' Company, and was
made Orderly Sergeant. He served with that company, under Colonel
Gregg, in the campaign against Sumter. His company did not disband
when the fort fell, but followed Gregg to Virginia. At the expiration
of their term of enlistment he returned to Lexington County, raised
a company, and joined the Fifteenth. He was in most of the battles in
which that regiment was engaged. Was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel,
and in 1864 was elected to the State Senate from Lexington. He refused
to leave his regiment, and did not accept the honor conferred upon
him by the people of his county. While with his regiment in South
Carolina, early in the spring of 1865, he was granted a few days'
furlough to visit his home, at which smallpox had broken out, but was
captured by Sherman's raiders before reaching home. He was parolled in
North Carolina.
He was elected to the Legislature in 1866, serving until
reconstruction. He died in 1877.
There was never a Major appointed afterwards in the Fifteenth.
About the last of January we had another little battle scare, but it
failed to materialize. General Longstreet had ordered a pontoon bridge
from Richmond, and had determined upon a descent upon Knoxville. But
the authorities at Washington having learned of our preparation to
make another advance, ordered General Thomas to reinforce General
Foster with his corps, take command in person, and to drive Longstreet
"beyond the confines of East Tennessee." The enemy's cavalry was
thrown forward, and part of Longstreet's command having been ordered
East, the movement was abandoned; the inclemency of the weather, if no
other cause, was sufficient to delay operations. Foster being greatly
reinforced, and Longstreet's forces reduced by a part of his cavalry
going to join Johnston in Georgia, and a brigade of infantry ordered
to reinforce Lee, the commanding General determined to retire higher
up the Holston, behind a mountain chain, near Bull's Gap.
On the 22d of February we quit our winter quarters, and took up our
march towards Bull's Gap, and after a few days of severe marching we
were again snugly encamped behind a spur of the mountain, jutting out
from the Holston and on to the Nolachucky River. A vote of thanks from
the Confederate States Congress was here read to the troops:
"Thanking Lieutenant General James Longstreet and the officers and men
of his command for their patriotic services and brilliant achievements
in the present war, sharing as they have the arduous fatigues and
privations of many campaigns in Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania,
Georgia, and Tennessee," etc.
* * * * *