ORGANIZATION OF “FORREST’S CAVALRY CORPS”--THE SOOY SMITH RAID--FORT
PILLOW.
When the snow began to fly, Company E was comfortably quartered in the
vacant storehouses at Coldwater, thirty-one miles from Memphis. The men
provided themselves with heavier clothing, some articles of which were
brought through the lines from home, while others were secured through
blockade runners, as those citizens were called who carried cotton to
Memphis and brought out supplies on a Federal permit. The service was
light, with no picket duty, for the winter was so cold and the roads so
bad that a Federal raid could hardly be expected. But the hours must be
whiled away. So, when the boys were not rubbing up their arms and
grooming their horses, they were cutting firewood, playing poker or
dancing. The dancing was a feature. Boots were heavy, but the dancers
were muscular and strong. They could thread the Virginia reel or tread
through the mazes of a quartet, but the eight-couple cotillion, in which
a greater number could participate, thus giving more spirit to the
amusement, was the favorite. In this the most intricate figures were
practiced to give zest to the performances. These included the “grand
cutshort,” which, as I recall it, after nearly half a century, was a
combination of “swing corners,” “ladies’ grand chain” and “set to your
partner.” In the parlance of that day, it was “immense,” for I feel it
in my old bones as I tell you about it. The said figure was learned from
a blue-eyed fiddler of Company H of Weakley County, who, like many
others, after a short experience in 1862, concluded he couldn’t kill
them all anyhow, and would, therefore, engage in more peaceful pursuits
beyond the range of the conscript officers. James H. Grove and I, both
of whom knew how to draw the bow, furnished the music, and the boys
declared, of course, that it was good. Grove was the father of E. W.
Grove, the famous manufacturer of medicines of St. Louis, whose remedies
are sold in every civilized country on the globe. The father and I were
fellow private soldiers in the army. The son and I, for some time after
the war, sustained the relation of teacher and pupil.
One day, while on a short scout to Hernando, I met a body of Federals,
under a flag of truce, who were negotiating an exchange of prisoners,
the details of which were soon arranged with a Confederate officer.
Very soon the Yanks and Johnny Rebs were mingling as if they expected
never to shoot at one another again. I had the unusual experience that
day of dining with the Federal officers at the house of Judge Vance, a
well-known citizen.
On the 4th of December, Company E, leaving all impediments in camp, made
a demonstration along the Memphis & Charleston Railroad, between
Rossville and Moscow. While tearing up some railroad track we heard the
noise of battle at Moscow, where Stephen D. Lee, with Ross’ and
McCulloch’s Brigades, met with a hot resistance and considerable loss,
while trying to destroy the railroad bridge over Wolf river. It was
understood at the time that these demonstrations were made mostly for
the purpose of covering Forrest’s advance north. He crossed the railroad
that day at Saulsbury, and, proceeding north, received a cordial welcome
on the next day at Bolivar. It was known that he came across from Rome,
Ga., to Okolona, Miss., with not more than three hundred men, including
Morton’s Battery, around which small command as a nucleus he was to form
Forrest’s Cavalry Corps. His resources consisted of Ross’, McCulloch’s
and Richardson’s Brigades, all very much depleted, with a few petty
commands scattered here and there over the country. The weather was so
cold and the roads so bad that we thought Company E was safely immune
from an attack on its camp at Coldwater, yet Forrest was making a raid
within the enemy’s lines, where he was to stay twenty-one days, defeat
superior forces in five considerable battles, and day and night display
such energy and military genius as would keep him out of the hands of
the enemy, who were moving from many directions to entrap him. He set
about collecting the absentees and other recruits, many of whom were
without arms and poorly mounted. He acted upon the principle that an
unarmed man was better for the occasion than no man at all, for, if a
recruit had nothing at hand but the “rebel yell,” he could at least help
to intimidate an adversary.
Bad roads and swollen streams had no terrors for our General, who, at
the critical moment, turned his face south with his command greatly
augmented, and with a convoy of wagons laden with supplies, besides
about two hundred beef cattle and three hundred hogs.
The Seventh Tennessee did not participate in this campaign, the history
of which is only slightly sketched here in order to give a clear view of
the military situation at the time Company E was ordered to rejoin the
regiment at Como, Miss. Great attention was now given to organization
and equipment. Very many of the recruits had to be armed, and even
clothed, before they could become effective soldiers. The work had to be
done with dispatch, as we were now having more sunshine, and the roads
were drying up. The enemy might soon be on the move. Forrest, having
been promoted to the rank of Major-General, assumed command of all the
cavalry in North Mississippi and West Tennessee. Within a few days the
organizations were perfected, the Seventh Tennessee being assigned to
the Fourth Brigade, commanded by Colonel Jeffrey Forrest, the youngest
of the Forrest brothers. The entire command was greatly elated by the
success of the recent raid, the addition of so many new men, and the
prospect of serving under a man who knew nothing but success.
Rumors came in thick and fast that the Federals were preparing to
advance both from Memphis and Vicksburg. The Fourth Brigade dropped down
to Grenada, in order to watch and frustrate any movement from the south.
We had frequently camped at Grenada, and the scenes were familiar. As
for myself, I had known the country and many of the people ten years
before--yes, indeed, before old college days. We occupied the very
ground whence we started on the Holly Springs raid, about one year
before. Who could tell but that we should start on one just as
remarkable from the same place?
Strong columns of Federals were reported moving from Memphis. From his
headquarters at Oxford, the Confederate commander made such dispositions
of his four brigades as would most likely defeat the plans of the enemy,
so far as they were developed. During the first days of February, it was
discovered that about seven thousand well-appointed cavalry were on the
road to the rich prairie lands of East Mississippi. Gen. Sooy Smith,
their commander, moved with so much dispatch that Forrest, though moving
with celerity eastward, found it impossible to head him off till the
Federal forces had reached West Point. It was the morning of the 20th of
February, 1864. The Federals, going down through Pontotoc and Okolona,
had marked their advance by burning houses, barns and fences, and
plundering larders and hen roosts. Up to that date, nothing like this
had been seen in our part of the country. Our soldiers were aroused by
the reports brought in. Of course, there was a firm-set resolution not
only to give the ruthless enemy blow for blow, but to avenge the wrongs
done to old men, women and children. It looked as if a great battle was
impending, and the Confederates were never more ready. We did not know
it then, but Forrest was merely trying to hold the enemy in check until
reinforcements, under Stephen D. Lee, could arrive from some point
below. Jeffrey Forrest’s brigade had already come in contact with
Smith’s cavalry between West Point and Aberdeen, and was being pressed
back upon West Point. General Forrest, attacking the enemy with a small
force on their extreme right wing, discovered, to his chagrin, that they
were retreating. There was nothing to do but to press them with energy,
so as to inflict as great a loss as possible upon them. Soon it was a
lively chase, and the men of Company E were, for the first time, to see
Forrest in battle. He was soon right up with the Seventh Regiment, as
the men urged their horses through that black prairie mud. Four miles
north of West Point the enemy made a stubborn resistance, in the edge of
a small woods, but the pursuers, dismounting quickly, drove them away in
confusion. Again it was a rattling pace through the mud till the enemy
made another stand, five miles further on, where they sought to protect
themselves at a rude bridge over a miry little creek, by tearing down
fences and making barricades with the rails. Here the Confederates again
pressed them in front and on the flanks till they gave way. This
running fight, with intervals of resistance, was kept up till nightfall.
It was an all-day fight, and we had many sad things to remember. Our
dead and wounded were behind us, even if victory was in front of us.
Weary and worn, our men and horses were given a few hours of rest.
Fortunately, the men found plenty of subsistence and forage in the camp
abandoned by the Federals, which helped wonderfully in the work to be
done next day.
By 4 o’clock on the morning of the 22d of February, McCulloch’s and
Jeffrey Forrest’s brigades, led by Forrest himself, were moving toward
Okolona, and driving the enemy before them. The distance was fourteen
miles, over a road almost impassable.
When the Confederates arrived at Okolona, they found a strong line of
the enemy drawn up in such a position that they could have made a
stubborn resistance, but Barteau, commanding Bell’s brigade, and
McCulloch with his own, promptly drove them from the position and rushed
them in some confusion along the road towards Pontotoc. The Federals
adopted the tactics of the previous day by forming heavy lines in
favorable positions and resisting stubbornly till attacked front and
flank, in many instances with Forrest in the forefront, they were
compelled to retreat. The last stand made was at Prairie Mound, seven
miles from Okolona and some thirty miles from West Point, where the
fighting began on the morning of the previous day. The Sooy Smith raid
was at an end with heavy loss to the invaders and a proportionate loss
to the victors, for during the two days Forrest fought the 7,000 well
equipped cavalry with a force only about half as large and made up
largely of raw recruits. In one of the last encounters Jeffrey Forrest
was killed at the head of his brigade, and died in the arms of his
famous brother. No more pathetic scene was ever witnessed on any
battlefield.
To look upon the ghastly dead or to hear the groans of the wounded
lessens the sweets of victory and emphasizes the horrors of war.
After so strenuous a campaign, both men and horses needed recuperation,
and so the Seventh Tennessee went into camp in that bountiful section of
country about Mayhew, west of Columbus. It was easy to see that the
military situation, now at the opening of spring, was such that if the
Federals did not come after Forrest, he would certainly go after them.
Therefore, preparations for a campaign were active and men and horses
were put in the best possible condition. On the 15th of March Forrest
with only part of his command was moving north for the purpose of
crossing the railroad at Corinth and marching into Tennessee. By the
23rd we had passed Trenton and were still moving north without any
resistance. We were now satisfied that either Union City or Paducah was
Forrest’s objective point.
On the morning of the 24th Colonel William L. Duckworth of the Seventh
Tennessee, in command of a temporary brigade, consisting of his own
regiment, McDonald’s battalion and Faulkner’s Kentucky regiment, was
ordered to attack the Federal works at Union City, while Forrest with
the main force was hastening towards Paducah. Duckworth with his 500 men
completely invested the Federal fort at Union City in the early morning
and after a brisk firing, participated in by both sides, under a flag of
truce demanded a surrender of the place. Lieutenant Henry J. Livingston
of Brownsville, with a detail of three or four men of which I happened
to be one, had charge of the flag of truce. When the firing ceased we
rode up close to the fort, where an officer met us. Livingston requested
to communicate directly with Colonel Isaac R. Hawkins, the commander of
the post. This was granted and a short parley ensued in which
Livingston, acting under orders of his superior, demanded a surrender.
Hawkins demurred and asked for an interview with Forrest. Colonel
Duckworth, being now called in and acting with an adroitness and finesse
that were altogether creditable, insisted that he was acting under the
direct orders of Forrest, who was near at hand with his artillery (sic)
and who was not in the habit of meeting officers of inferior rank to
himself. That most gentlemanly Federal officer, Colonel Hawkins, who was
now about to surrender to some part of Forrest’s cavalry for the second
time, wishing to avoid the effusion of blood, which might be caused by
Duckworth’s imaginary artillery, concluded to make an unconditional
surrender. When the facts came out and there was slight jeering on the
part of our men, these men of the Seventh Tennessee, Federal, bore up
manfully and turned out to be jolly good fellows, molded much after the
pattern of the men of our own Seventh Tennessee, Confederate. Talking
with many of the officers and men I concluded that their chagrin would
have been amusing, if it had not been pathetic. Four hundred and
seventy-five prisoners with all their supplies and camp equipage and
three hundred horses with accoutrements were surrendered. There was not
at that time an effective Confederate cannon in West Tennessee, and
Forrest was well on his way to Paducah.
When the Confederates reached the objective point led by Forrest in
person, they took possession of the town, but met with a bloody
resistance when they charged the fort in which the Federals had taken
refuge. They drew off with large spoils of war, consisting of horses and
equipments. The whole force now turned south, having accomplished the
object of the expedition. Company E was ordered to Bolivar, where the
men, subject to order, dispersed to their homes to enjoy a furlough. The
good old town “put her best foot foremost” and gave us a quiet but
hearty welcome. Some of the boys “shucked their army duds,” and appeared
in other vestments as beaux, for there was a bevy of pretty girls in
Bolivar. In the round of dances and other social gatherings, there was
many a sweet word spoken upon which, it was hoped, something might be
realized “after the ratification of a treaty of peace,” as the
Confederate bills all said. Doubtless, some of my friends found, when
peace did come to the land, that love, even the platonic kind, which is
sporadic only, is somewhat like Mr. Finnegin’s train, which was “off
agin, on agin, gone agin.” In other words, the grand passion does not
always stick like Spalding’s Prepared Glue or Aunt Jemimy’s Plaster,
which the more you try to take it off, the more it sticks the faster.
But there was a bugle call and all good things must end. The men came
rushing in to report. In the little excitement incident to the occasion,
Sol Phillips, while romping with some of his fellow soldiers, jumped
into what he took to be a large box, which turned out to be an old well.
Sol soon found bottom and set up a yell to which there was a quick
response by his friends, who drew Sol up greatly frightened but only
slightly bruised. He still makes his home in the hills of Hardeman.
At the end of about three weeks, or more precisely on the 2nd of May,
1864, there was hurrying and scurrying among the soldiers. Company E was
present in force for duty and McDonald’s Battalion was on the ground
under Major Crews. General Sturgis, with a large force of cavalry and
artillery, was in such close proximity that he would reach Bolivar late
in the day. Forrest had already been properly informed and had given
orders for our little force to check the Federal advance in order that
everything on wheels moving south might have a better chance to escape.
When the Confederates had been properly placed behind the old Federal
earthworks, west of the town and the battle had begun, General Forrest
with his escort came unexpectedly upon the field at a gallop and took
charge. Knowing that he was fighting at great odds, at an opportune
moment he drew off, but not until several men and horses had been
wounded. Here D. Hill and John McClammer, temporarily attached to
Company E, were wounded so severely that they were left in the hands of
the Federals. Major Strange of Forrest’s staff had his right arm broken,
but rode off the field. The enemy numbering two thousand sustained a
heavy loss, forty or fifty killed and wounded, as they fought at a
disadvantage, the Confederates being fairly protected by the old works
constructed by Grant two years before.
The Confederates necessarily retreated in some confusion, as the
Federals making a flank movement had the advantage when our men started
to leave their partial shelter. Bringing forward their artillery they
threw several shots into the town. One struck the residence of Mrs.
Brooks, another went through the roof of the stable on the Harkins
place, and I saw one cut off the top of a cedar tree in front of the Dr.
Peters place, now the residence of Dr. Hugh Tate. Just think of it. Here
was Company E, being chased through its home town. It threw a damper
over every tender sentiment and all thoughts of love vanished into thin
air, for we were thanking our stars that we had escaped death at the
hands of the Federals. Just as we were procuring forage at the Dave
McKinney place south of Bolivar, I heard the report of the gun in the
hands of Robert Galloway that killed Major Sol Street, a somewhat famous
partisan fighter or guerrilla. On the 44th anniversary of this tragedy I
met Mr. Galloway in Memphis. In reply to my request to give me a
statement in regard to the killing of Street, he said, in substance,
that he killed him because Street had killed his father for the purpose
of robbery. That a younger brother of Galloway’s was with his father at
the time of the murder, and was able to give full particulars. The boy
remembered the exact dying words of his father. Street and his
companions did not secure the elder Galloway’s money as something,
unknown to the boy, caused them to hastily leave the locality. This was
when Robert Galloway was about sixteen years old. When in about two
years he had reached the military age, he joined the army and was in the
fight at Bolivar where Street was pointed out to him by a friend. He
shot Street before they had dismounted at the bivouac, and in the
confusion made his escape, but was arrested by Lieutenant Statler of
Company E. He offered Statler a thousand dollars to release him, but the
offer was declined. Galloway and others state that General Forrest was
in a towering rage when Galloway was brought before him, and said that a
drum-head court-martial would sentence Galloway to be shot at sun up.
He tells me that he knows just how it feels to be condemned to death,
but was not present at the contemplated tragedy, as he made his escape
at daylight, and within a few days was safe within the Federal lines at
Memphis. Mr. Galloway resided in Illinois till after the surrender when
he returned to Hardeman county. He has reared a large family and is an
excellent citizen.
There was much talk when we got quietly settled in camp at Verona,
Miss., about the capture of Fort Pillow, an affair in which the Seventh
Tennessee, being on detached duty near Randolph, did not participate.
Most of this was in regard to what seemed to be the senseless conduct of
the garrison after they must have seen that the place was doomed. After
the officer in command had refused to comply with the demand to
surrender and the whole Confederate force moved on their works, the
entire garrison, having left their flag flying, fell back to a safer
place under the bank of the river. Much has since been said by Northern
writers concerning what they term an unnecessary slaughter. It should be
remembered that this same garrison of both whites and negroes had
committed numerous outrages upon the people of the surrounding country.
These things had come to the ears of the Confederates and many of the
victims had petitioned Forrest to avenge their wrongs by breaking up
what appeared to be a den of thieves and marauders. Howbeit, part of
them were Tennesseeans. Add to all this, that the garrison had been
lavishly stimulated with whisky, as was evident from the fact that a
number of barrels of whisky and beer with tin dippers attached were
found by the Confederates, and it is not hard to see why there was
unnecessary slaughter. The incident could be dismissed by saying that
those within the fort knew that they deserved condign punishment because
of the outrages committed on innocent people, and being somewhat in a
state of intoxication, were incited to resist to the last extremity,
while the Confederates were incited to victory by every instinct that
impels a manly soldier to resent an insult and to protect the innocent.
If General Forrest had no other victory to his credit, his fame would be
secure.
Belated soldiers coming down from Tennessee soon brought to us the
information that Sturgis took possession of Bolivar as soon as we had
retreated on the evening of the 2nd of May, and burned the courthouse,
the Baptist church, one of the hotels and several other buildings. Bad
news for Company E.