DAVIS’ BRIDGE AND CORINTH.
When we had somewhat recovered from the fatigue and demoralization
incident to the Armstrong raid, four companies of the Seventh Tennessee
and four of the First Mississippi were ordered to march under Lieutenant
Colonel F. A. Montgomery of the latter regiment in the direction of
Hernando, Miss. Colonel Grierson with his Sixth Illinois Cavalry was
making a scout from Memphis, and the eight companies were to watch his
movements. I remember we passed down through Byhalia and Cockrum and
across Coldwater river on the road towards Hernando. Then turning north
and marching leisurely along we recrossed the Coldwater at Holloway’s
bridge, quite a rude affair, about ten miles southwest of Byhalia. The
men seemed to think that we were only making one of our usual marches
for practice. But when we had reached the foothills on the east side,
there was a commotion in the ranks and we were ordered to countermarch,
while the word passed down the line that Grierson was in our rear. He
had crossed the bridge and was following us. In a few minutes the whole
command was in the greatest excitement. As soon as the immediate
presence of the enemy was discovered, a company of the Seventh Regiment
was thrown front into line, but, unfortunately, very near the enemy, who
had advanced on foot and were well concealed in the heavy timber. There
was brisk firing from the Federal line, which portended certain death to
the men and horses of our front company. There was a bolt to the rear,
and what is known to the participants as the Coldwater stampede was on.
Nothing could surpass it in excitement. The other companies had been
drawn up by company front with Company E next in position to the one so
near the enemy. When the latter had reached our front, it had acquired
about sufficient momentum to dash through on their excited horses, which
seemed to have gotten beyond the control of their riders. The Federals
saw their opportunity and promptly advanced, delivering a galling fire
as they did so. The demoralization was imparted from man to man and the
scare from horse to horse till it became a rout. Some of the men of
Company E spoke encouraging words to one another, when they saw what was
coming, and denounced the retreat as cowardly. In some, this was no
doubt a manifestation of inborn bravery, in others, of self-esteem or
personal pride. From whatever motive, it was a creditable act, for it
was one of those occasions when a man can take his own measure to see
whether or not he is a brave soldier, or is prompted by other impulses.
But however much inclined some were to stand firm, it was only a moment
before all were borne to the rear. Concert of action was impossible, and
those who at first resolved to resist, were very soon getting away with
those who seemed to be making the best time. The command did not exactly
take to the woods, but there was no delay in crossing a stout fence
which put us into a corn field where the fall crop of crabgrass seemed
to be the rankest I had ever seen. We happened to be going in the
direction of the rows or we would have played havoc with the crop. As it
was, we trampled great paths through the crabgrass and spoiled a fine
lot of hay. Everybody seemed willing to halt when we got on the other
side and had an open field between us and the enemy. The command was
reorganized with dispatch, after which there were various expressions as
to the cause of the disaster. Smarting with shame and mortification, a
great majority of the detachment would then and there have put up the
fight of their lives, had they been coolly led into action. Clearly, we
had been outgeneraled by one of the most alert of Federal officers, the
first on his side to gain a reputation as a bold raider.
How vividly I recall my own feelings and those expressed by others, when
we retired from the scene of the affair just related! Everybody had some
incident of the disaster to relate, and the usual funny things were said
about how the boys got over that first fence and through that cornfield,
though it did look like smiling at a funeral.
When the excitement was at its height and Grierson’s men were yelling
like demons turned loose, Sherrill Tisdale’s horse was running madly to
the rear with his rider trying to keep himself in the saddle by holding
desperately to the mane. Tisdale fell to the ground and was captured,
but his fine young horse, afterward ridden by the late Emmett Hughes,
escaped and would have carried his owner to safety.
John Allen, a brother of Dr. Joe Allen, killed only a few days before at
Briton’s Lane, was shot through the foot before our line was broken. He
was riding a splendid mule which carried him out of danger by leaping
two big logs, lying one upon the other. Joe and John Allen with their
brother Thompson, who served in another regiment, were, like their
father, Long John Allen, of Whiteville, noted for their sprightly
intellectuality, physical and moral courage and height. John used to
turn his six feet four inches to an amusing account when he encountered
a citizen with whom he wished to swap horses. Putting his hand to his
right ear he would ask his new acquaintance to talk very loud,
intimating that he was very deaf. “Old Innocent,” usually a man of short
stature as compared with John’s, who had, on the quiet, plenty of
confidence in his own ability as a judge of horseflesh, would tiptoe to
John and raise his voice to a high key. John, like a born actor, would
turn his right eye down on his unsuspecting subject while he winked with
his left to his audience. John Allen’s penchant for horse trading caused
him sometimes to be mounted on a mule.
Company E now knew that there was work to be done in the immediate
future. The Federals had garrisoned many places on the Memphis and
Charleston Railroad, and were making incursions into Mississippi. Steps
were taken to unite the armies of Price and Van Dorn for the purpose of
making an attack on Corinth where General Rosecrans was posted. As
preliminary to this attack, Colonel W. H. Jackson was ordered to take
his own and the First Mississippi Cavalry under Pinson and make a
reconnoisance in the direction of Corinth. At Davis’ bridge on Big
Hatchie river Jackson somewhat unexpectedly came upon Ingersoll’s
Eleventh Illinois Cavalry and some regulars just going into camp. The
vidette, who had just taken post, was taken in and the rest was easy.
Pinson in front charged across the bridge and into the camp of the
enemy, who were largely engaged in gathering corn from a field to the
right of the road, while the Seventh Tennessee brought up the rear and
waked the echoes with the rebel yell. The firing was promiscuous, but
there were few casualties. Pinson was the only Confederate wounded. He
manifested the spirit and courage of the hero, as we bore him to the
Davis residence on a cot secured for the purpose. He had very good
reason to think that the ball had penetrated the intestines, but he,
nevertheless, spoke cheerfully to anxious enquirers as “boys,” and said
that it was only “a small matter” and that he “was all right.” Happily
he was.
The spoils were great, considering the few minutes the battle lasted,
consisting of one hundred and eighty fine Illinois horses with their
accoutrements and arms. We captured only fifty or sixty prisoners, as it
was just at nightfall, and most of the enemy took refuge in the timber.
I always thought that those fine horses and accoutrements should have
been distributed among the boys where most needed and their inferior
articles taken up. This might have been done under a board of survey in
such a way as not only to increase the efficiency of the command, but
also to stimulate it for future enterprises. But we didn’t get a halter.
All went to supply the demands of other commands. There was one
particularly fine horse in the captured lot which had been thoroughly
trained and was evidently something of a pet, as we say, of his former
owner. Jim Weatherly of Somerville, was not long in discovering his fine
points and “smart tricks,” and soon had him “going his way.” The
beautiful brown with two white feet had to be turned in, and Weatherly
was disconsolate. Thereafter, when any legitimate capture fell in the
way of the boys, mum was the word. It was now September, 1862, and Price
and Van Dorn were ready to move on Corinth. This movement was made from
Ripley, Miss., in two divisions commanded by Price and Lovell, with Van
Dorn as chief. The army was well equipped, well fed and in fine spirits.
It had not rained for many weeks, and the dusty roads and scarcity of
water made the marches, which were necessary to effect the concentration
of the two armies, severe ones for all branches of the service. But the
prospect of making a successful assault on the works at Corinth and
capturing Rosecrans and his army buoyed up the spirits of the soldiers.
Ten miles out on the Chiwalla hills the cavalry encountered a small
Federal force which was easily swept back. Company A of the Seventh
Tennessee, was active in this affair as Jackson’s escort and lost the
first man killed on the expedition. I was with a detachment of Company E
that had been ordered forward and deployed as skirmishers. I came upon
the corpse of the soldier, which had, for the moment, been left where he
had fallen. It was the body of John Young of Memphis. This was the first
day of October, 1862. The next day was spent in getting the proper
dispositions made for the assault. On the 3rd, the earth seemed to
tremble with the thunder of artillery and the roar of small arms. It was
a struggle to the death in which both sides lost heavily. The position
had been rendered strong by heavy earthworks and much of the front had
been covered by fallen timber, which made the approach to the main works
difficult. All that day it went well with the Confederates, though the
killed and wounded were numerous. As the cavalry took no part in the
main battle, we could see pretty well what was going on in the rear.
There it was a bloody spectacle as the killed and wounded were borne
back for treatment and burial. That was the first time for me to see our
poor fellows wrapped in their blankets and buried in shallow trenches.
The horror of it! Even on the morning of the fourth, those of us in the
rear thought that all was well in front, for we had heard that Price,
who was fighting on the north of the railroad, had gone over the heavy
works and into the town. And so he had, but the brave men under Lovell
on the right under the terrible fire of the Federals had failed to make
a successful assault. Suddenly there was a calm, which we could not
understand. But it soon flashed upon us that we were beaten, and our
army was in full retreat. During the previous night McPherson’s division
from Jackson had re-enforced Rosecrans and was ready to press the
retreating Confederates. Hurlburt’s division, too, was marching from
Bolivar to intercept the retreating column. There was now likely to be
some lively work for the cavalry. When we reached Davis’ bridge, the
scene of the affair heretofore related, Hurlburt was there to dispute
our passage. With McPherson in our rear we were apparently “in a box.”
Shrewd generalship on the part of the Federals would have captured our
whole army. Van Dorn boldly attacked Hurlburt at the bridge, while his
trains were ordered to take the only road of escape--that up Hatchie
river. The cavalry preceded the trains, and, crossing the river,
attacked Hurlburt in his rear. For several hours there were two Federal
and two Confederate forces engaged and one of each fronting two ways.
Van Dorn drew off at the proper time and followed his trains. The
Federals were not disposed to follow, as good generalship would have
dictated, for our troops, worn out and hungry, could have made but a
feeble resistance. The streams had no water in them and our soldiers
drank the wells dry. When a beef was killed the hungry men were cutting
the flesh from the carcass before the hide was off. In the midst of this
distress, I had my only sight of Sterling Price. He was riding at the
head of a small escort and apparently in deepest thought. He had left
many of the brave men whom he loved dead on the field of Corinth. He was
the idol of his men, a great Missourian and a good man. But the result
at Corinth had made him sad. The disaster brought other troubles in its
train.
The morale of the army was not good, the citizens were discouraged and
many a soldier gave up the fight and went to his home within the Federal
lines. We retired to the vicinity of Holly Springs.