MY FIRST MILITARY EXPERIENCES.
R. P. Faddis was a native of Minnesota, raised and educated there, and
was about nine years my senior. He was more familiar with the true
conditions in the North than I was.
When war was threatened, before Sumter was fired on, minute companies
were organized in many of the important towns of Texas; forts and
arsenals on our frontiers were taken possession of by the State, and the
garrisons shipped North. A Captain Stoneman collected about five hundred
picked troops at Fort Brown and refused to surrender. Colonel Ford, an
old commander of Texas Rangers, collected about three hundred men and
demanded the surrender of the fort, which was refused.
An old New Orleans boat, called the General Rusk, was dispatched to
Galveston for reinforcements. On its arrival there, telegrams were sent
to Houston, Hempstead and Navasota, which places had organized
companies, for the companies to report by twelve o’clock that night for
passage on the General Rusk, for Brazos, Santiago. Twelve o’clock that
night found four companies aboard of this boat, coasting down the Gulf
in a storm, without ballast, rolling and making us all seasick; nearly
five hundred men lying on the lower deck. We finally arrived at Brazos
Santiago, where we found some other citizen soldiers in the old army
barracks, including the Davis Guards, under command of Captain Odium and
Dick Dowling.
After two weeks’ camping on Brazos Santiago Island, Captain Stoneman
surrendered Fort Brown, and, after disarmament, was sent North with his
troops. We then returned home and resumed our civic avocations.
We next organized a cavalry company, commanded by a Captain Alston;
Hannibal Boone, First Lieutenant, and W. R. Webb, Second Lieutenant. I
was offered the second lieutenancy, but declined, saying I would only
serve in a private capacity. I was not a military man, and never
expected to be. In about thirty days we were called to hasten to
Indianola on horseback, where they had collected more troops, which had
refused to surrender. We immediately started there and, when near
Victoria, we got information that these troops had also surrendered,
making it unnecessary to go any further, and we again returned home to
resume our several pursuits. The company then disbanded and largely
merged into a new company, organized for frontier protection against
Indians. I remained at home, attending to my business with Faddis.
A couple of young Englishmen had come to Hempstead about a year before
and started a foundry and machine shop, the second one in the State.
They were both experts in their business and good men, receiving the
financial support of the community, and soon owed our firm a large
amount of money for advances to their hands and monies loaned.
In July, 1861, the same year, Colonel Frank Terry, a large sugar planter
in Fort Bend County, and Thomas Lubbock of Houston, returned from the
battle of Manassas, where they had served as volunteer aides on the
staff of General Beauregard and through their intrepid daring and
valuable services, were commissioned to raise a regiment of Texas
Rangers.
Immediately upon their return, they issued a call for volunteers, to
serve during the war, in Virginia; the men to furnish their own
equipment. The response was prompt; in less than thirty days ten
companies of over one thousand men were on their way to Houston to be
mustered into the service of the Confederate States Army for the war.
The personnel was of the highest order, some of the best families in
South Texas were represented, many were college graduates, professional
men, merchants, stockmen and planters; all anxious to serve in the ranks
as privates; all young, in their teens and early twenties; rank was not
considered and when tendered, refused; the main desire was to get into
this regiment.
I told Faddis our firm must be represented, on which we agreed, and that
I wanted to join, but he insisted that it was his time to go, that I had
been out twice, and I finally had to yield him the right. He then
subscribed to join. The day he was ordered to Houston to be mustered in,
he declined to go and frankly told me that he only signed to keep me
from going, and he did his best to persuade me not to go. He said that
the South was deceived in the spirit and strength of the North; that the
North had every advantage of us—they had the army and navy, the
arsenals, the treasury and large manufactories, as well as five men to
our one; the whole world open to them, while we had nothing, our ports
would be blockaded and we would be forced to depend upon our own limited
resources, and, as to relying upon the justice of our cause, in the
language of Abraham Lincoln, “might was right and would surely conquer.”
I told him I could not agree with him and was satisfied the war would
not last three months. As soon as we could drive these people back into
their own territory, they would be willing to let us alone. “I am going
to take your place, Faddis.” I had about an hour to arrange for board
for my young brother and sister and Faddis agreed to look after them and
pay their board out of my interest in the business, which he pledged
himself to continue for our mutual benefit.
When we parted I expected to return inside of three months; he expected
he would never see me again, as I might be killed and, if I should
return, that I would be a crippled, subjugated man.
Faddis continued the business as far as he was able and finally, to
protect us, had to take over the foundry and machine shop, arranging
with our Englishmen to run it for him. He then, to keep out of the army,
turned his attention to repairing old guns, making swords and other
arms, and finally, on the persuasion of his English friends, cast a
nine-inch Armstrong gun, the only one ever successfully made in the
Confederacy.
This drew the attention of the Confederate Government, who impressed our
property, paid him eighty thousand dollars for it and gave him a permit
to stay in Brownsville and run cotton into Mexico, returning with goods.
On my return from the army, after four years, I heard of him through a
party who knew him in Brownsville. This party reported that Faddis had
more gold than he knew what to do with, and I concluded that I was
fixed, too, but I was unable to communicate with him, as we had no
mails, and did not hear from him until after two years, when he returned
to Hempstead broke. He had lost all in grain speculations in Chicago.
I next proceeded to Houston, where I was mustered in with the balance of
the regiment, to serve in Virginia, during the war. While in camp at
Houston, we organized our company, electing John A. Wharton of Brazoria
County captain of the company; who, on his election, made up a speech,
in which he said that he had no ambition to gratify more than to command
Company B, that he expected to return captain of Company B and did not
want any promotion. He was offered by the balance of the regiment in
connection with our company, the office of major. The balance of the
commissioned officers of the company were Clarence McNeil, first
lieutenant and Theodore Bennett, second lieutenant; and the
noncommissioned officers were distributed among the different sections
from which the company was made up; nobody caring for an office of any
kind, as a private was generally the equal of any officer in command.
All went to do their patriotic duty and contribute their mite for the
success of the cause.
We now started on horseback. After reaching Beaumont we returned our
horses to Texas, having to take boat to Lake Charles, Louisiana, from
whence we were forced to walk to New Iberia, carrying our saddles and
other equipment on wagons, across the country. At New Iberia we again
took boat for New Orleans; this was the only route open, as our ports
had been blockaded for some time, both at Galveston and at the mouth of
the Mississippi River.
During our stay in New Orleans for three or four days, we had a good
rest and waited for the balance of the companies to catch up. Colonel
Terry received a telegram from General Albert Sidney Johnston at Bowling
Green, Kentucky, stating that he had been ordered to take command in
Kentucky, and requested Colonel Terry to urge the men to come and serve
under him and, by way of inducement, authorized him to say that we
should be mounted on the best horses that Kentucky afforded and that we
should always remain a separate and distinct command, never to be
brigaded with any other troops as long as he lived. General Johnston was
well acquainted with the character of Texans, regarding them as fearless
and enthusiastic people, proud of their Texas history; and, knowing the
young men composing this regiment would endeavor to emulate the example
of the heroes of the Alamo, Goliad and San Jacinto, on which point, he
was not mistaken. General Johnston had been connected with the army,
under General Houston, and had also engaged in sugar planting near the
Kyle and Terry plantation in Fort Bend and Brazoria Counties, where a
great friendship sprang up between him and Colonel Terry. Colonel
Terry’s influence with the men of the regiment was unlimited and he had
no trouble in persuading the men to accept General Johnston’s offer and
serve with him in Kentucky.
While in New Orleans Colonel Terry made an official visit to General
Twiggs, an officer of the old army, who had resigned, and tendered his
services to the Confederacy, and who was then in command at New Orleans
and the Southwestern territory. Colonel Terry, while there, asked
information on the matter of obtaining cooking utensils and tents. When
General Twiggs, who had served many years on the frontier of Texas,
laughed him out of countenance, saying, “Who ever heard of a Texas
Ranger carrying cooking utensils and sleeping in a tent?” It is needless
to say that this matter was not mentioned again by Colonel Terry.
Our company arrived at Nashville, Tennessee, ahead of the balance of the
regiment, where we were quartered in the Fair Grounds, there to await
the arrival of the rest of the companies. I forgot to mention we started
out with the name of the “Texas Rangers,” with a reputation we had never
earned, but were called on to sustain; how well we did it, we leave
history to record our services during the four years we served the Army
of the West. While I would not make any invidious distinction as between
our regiment and others who served under Forrest, Wheeler and Wharton, I
am proud to be able to say that opportunities were afforded us, largely
by accident, that demonstrated our ability to meet every expectation of
department commanders, as evidenced by the following expressions during
the war:
“With a little more drill you are the equals of the old guard of
Napoleon.”—General Albert Sidney Johnston. “I always feel safe when the
Rangers are in front.”—General Wm. J. Hardee. “There is no danger of a
surprise when the Rangers are between us and the enemy.”—General
Braxton Bragg. “The Terry Rangers have done all that could be expected
or required of soldiers.”—Jefferson Davis.
While camped in the Fair Grounds, the citizens of Nashville, largely
ladies, came rolling in, in carriages and buggies; all anxious to see
the Texas Rangers, about whom history had written so much about their
fearlessness and being great riders. Colonel Terry called on not a few
of our men to ride horses that were taken out of buggies and carriages,
for the purpose of showing their horsemanship—the most popular feature
being a deposit of gold coins on the ground, the rider to run at full
speed, stooping down and picking them up. This extraordinary feat, in
connection with their general appearance; being armed with shotguns,
six-shooters and Bowie knives, seemed to sustain their idea of the Texas
Rangers that fought at the Alamo, Goliad and San Jacinto and served
under Jack Hayes, Ben McCollough and other Indian and Mexican fighters.
The regular army equipment for cavalry was the saber, the carbine and
six-shooter. This difference in equipment alone indicated that the Texas
Ranger expected and would fight only in close quarters. After a pleasant
stay at Nashville of nearly two weeks, we were ordered to go by rail to
Bowling Green, Kentucky, where we found an army of infantry and
artillery and three regiments of cavalry. Here we drew our horses by lot
and it was my good fortune to draw first choice out of about a thousand
horses tied to a picket rope. When all were ready to make their
selection I was directed to where these horses were tied and ordered to
make my selection, which I was not permitted to do with any degree of
deliberation. Having about a thousand men waiting on me, all anxious to
make their selection, a comrade, seeing I was confused and embarrassed,
offered to exchange his thirty-second choice for my choice, paying me a
liberal bonus. I was glad to accept it, mainly to get time to look
around among the rest of the horses, believing I would stand a better
chance to get a good mount. I had got short of money by that time, as we
paid our own expenses, except transportation, and this comrade was glad
to pay me for my first choice. We had no time to take out a horse and
try his gaits, and it proved largely guesswork in the selection of the
horses. The best gait for cavalry service is a long swinging walk and
fox trot; unfortunately my thirty-second choice proved a pacer.
After drawing our horses and preparing everything ready for active
service, the regiment under Colonel Terry was ordered on a scout to
Glasgow, Kentucky, where we were kindly received by its citizens and
took up our quarters at the Fair Grounds. Here the regiment spent
several days pleasantly, feasting on the good things brought in by the
ladies of the town.
The second day Colonel Terry ordered Captain Ferrell, with his company
and Company B, of which I was a member, to the little town of Edmonton,
Kentucky, where it was reported a part of a regiment of Federal cavalry
were quartered.
We started at night, which proved to be one of the coldest we had ever
been out in, riding all night. When nearly daylight, we reached the
suburbs of the town. I was riding a very spirited and nervous horse,
which refused to be quieted, while riding in line. In order to keep him
quiet, I had loosened the strap on his curb, which proved to be a
mistake. Nearing the town, the order came down the line “Silence in
ranks,” and soon my horse got to prancing. I jerked him by the reins,
throwing him on his haunches, when the hammer of my shotgun struck the
horn of the saddle and fired off my gun, which raised the alarm in town.
Immediately the order was given “Form fours; Charge!” which excited my
horse to such an extent that he broke ranks and flew up the line to the
front. Carrying my shotgun in my right hand, I was unable to check him
without the curb and he ran away with me, carrying me up into the town
on the square, about three hundred yards in advance of my command, where
I succeeded in checking him. For this I was reprimanded by Captain
Ferrell, who would not receive my explanation that the horse ran away
with me and claimed that I was too anxious to get there first.
Had the garrison not received information that we were moving on them
for an attack and left during the night for Mumfordsville, instead of
occupying the town as we expected, I no doubt would have been killed in
this, our first charge.
Captain Ferrell had orders from General Johnston to try to capture a spy
by the name of Burrell, who was making this town his headquarters and
who always stopped at the hotel. As soon as we entered the square we
were ordered to surround the hotel, which was done promptly. Captain
Ferrell then called the proprietor to the door, told him to tell the
ladies in the house to rise and dress, as he would have to search the
house for Burrell. The hotel man said that Burrell was there the evening
before, but left for Mumfordsville and was certainly not in the house.
Captain Ferrell told him that it made no difference, but to hurry up, he
was going to search the house.
The house was partly a two-story building, which had been added to the
gable end of the one-story building and the stair landing, built against
the gable of a one-story house, with a solid wood shutter covering, and
opening into the attic of the one-story building. The ladies took their
own time about getting ready for our search, perhaps nearly an hour;
some of them in the meantime coming to the door and repeating the
proprietor’s statement—that Burrell had left the evening before. When
they announced ready, I being near the door, dashed in ahead of all the
rest and up the stairs, when I discovered the wooden shutter, which I
jerked open, peering into the dark attic. Daylight had now fairly lit up
the surroundings and I discovered, through the light of the cracked
shingles, what I took to be a bundle of clothing at the far end, under
the corner of the roof. I cocked both barrels of my gun and called out,
“Come out; I see you; I’ll shoot if you don’t.” He answered, “Don’t
shoot.” If he had not answered I, no doubt, would have concluded, and
perhaps others that followed me, too, that it was an old bundle of
plunder. Proceeding down stairs with the prisoner, Burrell, who proved
to be quite an intelligent and good-looking gentleman, I carried him
into the parlor, where the ladies had congregated. They were all in
tears, with some of our boys laughing at them and telling them they were
story tellers.
Captain Ferrell, immediately on entering the square, detailed two men
for each road leading into the town, to picket these roads about
one-half mile from town. We built log fires on the square to keep us
warm during the day until about three o’clock in the evening. A citizen
then came in and, in an excited manner, told Captain Ferrell that a
large cavalry force was moving in between us and Glasgow, with a view of
cutting us off from our main command. The pickets arrested everybody
coming into town and by three o’clock we had about fifteen or twenty
prisoners, including some four or five Federal soldiers, who rode in on
them, thinking the town was still occupied by Federal troops. On
receiving information about this large cavalry force moving on a road
between us and Glasgow, Captain Ferrell gave the order to mount and form
fours, selecting what prisoners (about seven or eight, including
Burrell) and the soldiers, to take with us, and turning the balance of
them loose. He then placed me in charge of the prisoners, with four
others to help guard them. We then commenced our retreat to Glasgow.
When about three miles from town, another citizen dashed up to Captain
Ferrell, who rode in advance of the column, and reported the same large
cavalry force occupying our road some few miles ahead of us. Captain
Ferrell, who, by the way, was an old frontiersman, Indian and Mexican
fighter, dropped back and ordered me to tie Burrell’s ankles together,
under the horse’s body and if we got into a fight and he attempted to
escape, to not fail to kill him the first one. I don’t think I ever did
anything during the war that I hated as bad as I did to tie this man’s
ankles under the horse, but it was my orders from a man I knew would not
permit any plea for its modification, and I had to obey.
After riding about eight or ten miles, in this way, feeling sorry for
Burrell in his pitiful plight, I couldn’t stand it any longer and told
him if he would promise me he would not make a break when the guns
opened, that I would unloose the ropes and free his legs, for which he
thanked me. Then I told him to be careful and carry out his promise, for
if he did attempt a break, I would surely shoot him.
It seems that the report of these citizens proved only a ruse to induce
us to liberate our prisoners, as we were never fired on or again heard
of any Federal Cavalry in our front and safely reached Glasgow, where we
still found the balance of the regiment in camp.
Colonel Terry sent our prisoners to Bowling Green, highly pleased with
the capture of Burrell, for whom he had a special order by General
Johnston. I am satisfied Burrell was sent to Richmond, Virginia, and was
ultimately exchanged, as I saw the name of a Colonel Burrell, commanding
Kentucky troops mentioned in a war history, published in the North some
years after the War and on which point I trust I was not mistaken, and
that he is still in the land of the living.