GEORGIA SERVICE—A NEGRO’S PREFERENCE—A HAZARDOUS UNDERTAKING.
At this time General Wheeler would detail a fresh brigade every morning
to take the advance and move on the enemy.
When a few miles from Buck Head Creek, Harrison’s Brigade was placed in
advance. Striking the first line of works, we formed a line and prepared
to charge, when General Felix Robertson was seen immediately to the
right of our line on a magnificent horse. At the time, he was acting as
chief of staff to General Wheeler, and he gave the order to forward,
waving his hat and led the charge. We drove them out of their works and
it became a running fight down the road with General Robertson leading,
having a better horse than the balance of us. We soon struck a branch
where the enemy had lined up on the other side, and they poured a
galling fire into our advance. General Robertson had his arm badly
shattered by a bullet and being alone drew his horse to one side at the
ford of this branch. When I saw him he appeared deathly pale, reeling in
his saddle, and a couple of the men behind me started over to assist
him, but he called to them, “Never mind me, boys; crowd ’em, crowd ’em,”
which we did, and again started them on the run. They made another stand
across Buck Head Creek near the church and set fire to the bridge,
covering the fire with a piece of artillery. Wheeler then sent down a
few men with long-range guns, dismounted, who soon drove the artillery
away. We then repaired the bridge floor with benches out of the church
and were soon across the creek, after them, with the Third Arkansas in
advance.
As we were riding rapidly in pursuit, General Wheeler passing our column
to reach the advance called to us, saying, “We’ve got them this time;
Dibrell is in the rear.” General Dibrell commanded Tennessee cavalry. We
soon got into an old sedge field, an open country for several miles,
where Kilpatrick had established a fortified camp, built a line of
breastworks perhaps two miles wide, his left flank touching the road.
The Third Arkansas had formed a line of battle and was charging the
breastworks perhaps two hundred yards ahead of our regiment, which
emerged from the woods in columns of fours, moving rapidly to the
support of the Third Arkansas. The enemy had planted four pieces of
artillery in the road on our right, which poured a galling fire into the
Third Arkansas, as well as our flank. The Third Arkansas finally reached
the breastworks under a galling fire of four thousand Spencer rifles and
drove the gunners away from their artillery, thereby silencing the same,
but they were unable to cross the works and not being supported
promptly, had to withdraw. The reason of our failure to support promptly
was that when we reached about half way across the open, an order came
to us through Adjutant Billy Sayers for the Rangers to file to the right
into the road. This divided our regiment, a part continuing ahead, the
other part moving into the road and, as soon as we struck the road, a
hail of grape and cannister swept it and drove us into the thick woods
across the road and finally forced us to give up the attack, which was
most unfortunate, as the Third Arkansas lost a good many men. Our
regiment lost a few, too, and nothing was accomplished. General Dibrell
was seen in our left front in the woods, unable to strike Kilpatrick in
the rear on account of not being able to cross the creek. General
Wheeler now brought up his entire force, making disposition of them for
a final charge on Kilpatrick’s flank and rear, as well as in front, and
when we moved forward we found the bird had flown; Kilpatrick had
abandoned his works and fled.
We next had quite a severe engagement with the enemy’s cavalry near
Griswoldville, said to have been one of the most beautiful towns in
Georgia, which the enemy had burned. As soon as we caught up with them
we charged and drove them into their infantry, which proved in heavy
force and forced us to retire.
At Waynesboro, Georgia, we had considerable fighting in order to save
Augusta, Georgia, which had one of the largest arsenals in the
Confederacy and no doubt was a tempting prize for General Sherman’s
torch.
General Braxton Bragg happened to be in Augusta, when he conceived the
idea of resorting to a ruse, which proved quite successful. He called up
General Wheeler by telegraph at Waynesboro and instructed him when he
was forced to give up the town, to leave the telegraph office intact,
but give it the appearance of having been abandoned precipitately, then
advise him promptly when the enemy entered town. Waiting a reasonable
time for the enemy to take charge of the telegraph office, General Bragg
called General Wheeler, when a Federal officer answered. General Bragg
said, “General Wheeler, hold Waynesboro at all hazards. Longstreet’s
corps is arriving. I will take the field in person tomorrow. Signed,
Braxton Bragg.” This had the desired effect. General Sherman, satisfied
he would have to give battle before Augusta was surrendered, decided he
had better pass by and move on to Savannah as fast as possible. There is
no question but this ruse saved Augusta, Georgia, though General Wheeler
with his corps put up a strong defense, never permitting the enemy to
cross Brier Creek, which was between them and Augusta.
About ten or twelve years after the war, when General Sherman was a
resident of St. Louis, he gave an interview on the reason he spared
Augusta, Georgia. This had been a subject of discussion by historians
and especially friends of the North and was frequently attributed to
General Sherman having relatives living in Augusta, Georgia. Another
story was that Mrs. Lincoln, through a relative or friend, had stored in
Augusta a large amount of cotton. There were various other stories,
which General Sherman finally set at rest, giving his reasons for
sparing the city. He claimed that one of his officers intercepted a
telegram from General Bragg to General Wheeler at Waynesboro,
instructing him to hold Waynesboro at all hazards, that Longstreet’s
corps was arriving and he would take personal command the next day. He
further stated that on account of his depleted commissary, having to
depend on the country for the rations of his army, he was in no
condition to give battle, satisfied that Bragg would defend Augusta to
the last, therefore passed it by and hastened to the coast. “But if the
people of Augusta think that I spared their city through any love or
affection for them, if the President will give me permission, I will
take a hundred thousand of my bummers and go down and burn it now.” I
read this interview in a St. Louis paper.
When near Savannah, Georgia, the place having been evacuated by our
forces, who crossed the river at Pocatalego, Wheeler’s cavalry was
ordered to cross the Savannah River at a point about fifteen miles above
Savannah. For this purpose we had only one steamboat, and Harrison’s
Brigade was ordered to cross last, necessitating our camping in the
river bottom for several days, during which time details were sent out
of our brigade to collect provisions, as we were without commissary. I
had charge the second day of a small detail, and after riding about
twenty miles, we scattered out, each man to bring in as much as
possible. On my return to camp that evening late, without having
succeeded in securing anything, only a piece of cornbread and a slice of
bacon for myself, I was feeling disgusted. When about a mile from our
camp, following a well-beaten path, I spied a negro man on another path
crossing the one I was on and when within a few yards of me, I stopped
him and asked if he couldn’t tell me where there was something to eat,
telling him that I had ridden all day long, trying to get something for
our command and had signally failed.
The country through which we had passed for several days is the greatest
sweet potato country perhaps in the South; large fields all over the
country had been devoted to sweet potatoes, which had fallen a ready
prey to Sherman’s army and the whole country seemed to be eaten out. I
told this negro, after he told me where he lived, about a half mile from
there, that I was satisfied he knew where there were sweet potatoes and
where there was corn for our horses. He assured me he did not and said
that the Federals had taken everything that his old master had and
didn’t leave him a thing. I continued to talk with him, trying to arouse
his sympathy, told him of our poor fellows not having had anything to
eat for several days and I had been riding all day long without securing
anything, thereby working on his sympathy. Finally he broke down and
said, “Young Marster, if I were to tell you where there are sweet
potatoes, old marster would kill me.” I told him that his old master
never would know anything about it, and he finally said he didn’t think
it was right, that his old master had given these Yankees everything
they wanted, had plenty of potatoes left and refused to give our own
folks anything at all. “Now,” he said, “if you will strike across this
way,” pointing in the direction of his house, entering a lane leading to
the house, “about a hundred and fifty yards this side of the house, on
the left across the fence, you will find some haystack poles standing,
with a lot of shattered hay in the lot and if you will dig down about
two feet you will strike more potatoes than you will need for several
days. Up the river, in the bottom, about two miles, you will find a
couple of pens of corn, enough to feed your horses for several days.” He
had just finished telling me, when I noticed an old man, who proved to
be his master, coming our way, and as soon as the negro saw him he said,
“Fo’ Gawd, marster; there he is now; he’ll kill me; he’ll kill me.”
“No,” I said “he will not; he never will know that you told me; you
stand perfectly still and don’t get scared.” I jerked out my pistol and
threw it down on him, telling him within hearing of his old master, that
if he didn’t tell me where there was something to eat, I would kill him,
and the old man called, “Let that man alone; he don’t know where there
is anything to eat; there is nothing on the place, the Federals just
took everything I had.” I still insisted on killing the negro if he
didn’t tell me where there was something to eat, and finally let him
off, satisfying the old man that he hadn’t told me anything.
As soon as I reached camp I told Colonel Harrison to get out a detail of
fifty men, with sacks to carry potatoes in, when he ordered Major
Pearrie, our commissary, to get out the detail and follow my
instructions. I told Pearrie that I was satisfied the people at the
house about a half mile from there had plenty of potatoes, but did not
tell him the source of my information, determined not to tell anybody.
When we moved up the lane near the house. Major Pearrie halted us, went
to the house to talk to the old man and negotiate for the potatoes, when
the old man satisfied him there were no potatoes on the place. In the
meantime I had no trouble in finding the lot just as the negro had
described to me and when the major returned and ordered us, “About face;
move back to camp; there is nothing to be had,” I dismounted, crossed
the fence into the lot and commenced digging with my hands and in about
two feet, struck potatoes, then called to the men to come over with
their sacks, which, it is hardly necessary to say, we filled up to the
top. We thought we left potatoes enough to last the old man and his
family for another year, and perhaps more. We then sent up the river
bottom and found the corn, on which we fed our horses. Here is another
instance of the attachment of the negro to our own people, his sympathy
for us controlling his actions, and I always regretted not taking this
negro along with us, fearing perhaps that his old master might have
suspected him of giving us information about these potatoes and corn.
After crossing the river and reaching Pocatalego, we found General
Hardee and General McLaws, with the infantry out of Savannah and also
artillery organizations, which were turned into infantry. General McLaws
made a request on General Wheeler for a company of cavalry, preferring a
company of Texas Rangers, to scout and act as escort for him, when
Company B, to which I belonged, was detailed for this purpose.
One night, Captain King, inspector general on McLaws’ staff, came down
to our campfire and requested me to accompany him on a ride across the
swamp, to find Wheeler’s cavalry, which I consented to do. We proceeded
into the swamp on a corduroy road, the night being one of the darkest we
had ever been out in, the only light onto the road was the sky appearing
between the tall trees on both sides, which governed us in keeping about
the middle of the road and kept us from riding off the logs into the
deep mud and water. After riding perhaps a half mile, expecting every
minute to be fired on by Sherman’s advance pickets, our horses
necessarily making a great deal of noise by stumbling over the logs,
Captain King stopped and asked did I not think one of us could get
through easier than both, as it would reduce the noise considerably. I
told him that it certainly would. He then asked me if I would carry a
written order to General Wheeler, which was for Wheeler’s cavalry not to
fail to cross the swamp that night in order to be on hand by daylight in
the morning, when General Hardee expected an attack by the enemy’s
infantry. I told Captain King that I would carry the order, which he
asked me to show every brigade commander that I might find, until I
reached General Wheeler. Captain King then returned to General McLaws’
camp, as he would be needed the next morning.
I rode through the swamp, crossed the bridge and after about a
twenty-mile ride, found Wheeler’s cavalry, first striking a Georgia
brigade, to a colonel of which I read the order, when he immediately
ordered his brigade to saddle up; the next I struck Harrison’s brigade,
who also followed suit; the next I struck Colonel Ashby’s headquarters,
commanding Tennesseans. I found him lying on a pallet in front of a
fireplace, surrounded by his staff, all asleep. I showed him the order;
after reading it and noticing that I was wet, having ridden in the rain
part of the time, he made me step up to the fire, then after drying my
clothes, take his pallet and sleep until it was time to cross the swamp,
his command being very near the swamp. He promised me that he would send
the dispatch direct to General Wheeler, who was not far off and would
have me awakened when the last were about to cross, thereby giving me as
much sleep as possible. This kind treatment of Colonel Ashby’s was much
appreciated, but was not a surprise to me, having known him as one of
the most gallant officers and gentlemen I ever got acquainted with.
Some time after the war, meeting Lieutenant Fulkerson, the commander of
our company, at Bryan, Texas, he told me that General McLaws told him a
few days after this engagement that Graber’s ride that night, finding
Wheeler’s cavalry, who crossed the swamp in time to cover the retreat of
our infantry, no doubt saved our little army, only about seven or eight
thousand strong. This army was composed of the infantry and artillery
that were stationed at Savannah and Charleston and at different points
along our line of retreat and was joined at Bentonville with the remnant
of Hood’s army, out of Tennessee, after the disastrous Hood campaign in
that State.
While this humble individual service was nothing extraordinary, nothing
more than performed by individual members of our company frequently, yet
the result was such that I always had cause to feel proud of it. I
forgot to mention that I crossed the swamp without being fired on by the
enemy, as they had not reached that part of the crossing when I passed
through.
The following letter from General McLaws was received by me more than
thirty years after the incident just related, as the date indicates:
Savannah, Ga., April 9th, 1897.
My Dear Graber:
Your letter of the 5th reached me yesterday evening, and it gave
me great pleasure to receive it, for I have very often spoken of
the Texas company which formed my escort for a great deal of the
time during that campaign, and always in praise of its daring
spirit and its devotion to our cause. And there is no one in the
company whose name I have mentioned more often than yours, for I
saw more of you personally than of most of them, as you were
sometimes connected with my scouting party.
When the Federal Army, which crossed at Fort Royal ferry,
commenced its movement northward to meet the column under
General Sherman, which came from Savannah, it was your company
scouts which gave me notice of it, and I commenced following
their movement along one side, which was the left bank of the
Salkatchie. The night I left my headquarters was a very cold
one, and the troops suffered considerably. I had an A. D. C., a
relative of mine, whom I had found in Colcock’s regiment of
cavalry, and, not being accustomed to campaigning, he grumbled
some as we rode along and my other A. D. C., Mr. Lamar, hearing
him, asked what was the matter. He replied, “Lamar, if this is
liberty, I would rather be a slave.” We arrived in time to
successfully defeat the crossing at Braxton’s Bridge, and I then
rode on that night to Reeves’ Bridge, some eight or ten miles
above, and, finding everything in readiness, rode on to the
bridge above. When I started from Braxton’s Bridge, I had some
seven or eight of Colcock’s cavalry, who professed to know the
country, and I had sent several of them to find Wheeler’s
cavalry, in order to get a force from him to help defend the
crossing at Reeves’ Bridge the next day, but I heard afterwards
it was not done and in some unaccountable way my escort from
Colcock’s cavalry disappeared, every one of them. Fortunately I
came across my inspecting officer, Captain King, a very
energetic and fearless soldier, and I directed him to go on and
bring over a division of cavalry under Wheeler, have them
dismounted and placed in line close to the swamps on the right
of the infantry force at Reeves’ Bridge. I went on to the bridge
above where General Hardee was in command, and he, seeming
confident of holding his position, I started back to Reeves’
Bridge alone, my escort having disappeared, as I have stated. On
my way back, I came across a camp of a single teamster with his
team and wagon. I dismounted, told him who I was, and asked him
to feed my horse and let me lie down by his fire and to wake me
before daylight, all of which he consented to. Before daylight
the next day, I was on my way and arrived at Reeves’ Bridge very
early and found that Wheeler had sent me a division of cavalry
which was placed as I had directed. I met Captain King, who told
me of the daring ride of you and himself, and of your desperate
venture to find the cavalry, and for which I was very grateful,
for, had it not been for additional force thus acquired, the
enemy would have crossed above me early in the day, for the
Salkhatchie had fallen so much that it had become fordable and
the enemy were crossing not only above, but parties crossed
between Reeves’ and Braxton’s bridges, and after crossing in
sufficient numbers to warrant it they would have come down on my
flank at Reeves’ bridge, and I would have had to retire. The
presence of the cavalry prevented this. The cavalry late in the
day, having exhausted its ammunition, I directed that they be
formed mounted in the woods in the rear, and to charge any body
of the enemy attempting to make a flank attack of the force at
the bridge. This condition continued until sundown, when I
directed the officer in command at the bridge to increase his
force in the fortifications protecting the bridge and then to
withdraw his artillery by hand, and as night approached the
troops were withdrawn and I directed them to march directly to
the rear and bivouac after going four or five miles. I then rode
towards Braxton’s bridge alone, my Carolina cavalry escort never
returning to me. As I rode along I saw a mounted man sitting on
his horse looking intently down the road. As I approached he
heard my coming and turning recognized me and spoke quickly,
telling me that the enemy had crossed and were between us and
Braxton’s bridge. I told him to go ahead and act as scout and
keep a good lookout. So on we went until we saw a man on
horseback. His horse was half hidden in a blacksmith’s shop. He
also was looking down the road intently, and, as I came up, he
also said the enemy had crossed, and were occupying the road. I
told him to join the other man and go ahead. We had not gone far
when I heard the rapid gallop of a number of horses, and I
thought to myself if the enemy have crossed cavalry I may be
captured, so I withdrew a little off the road, so as to have a
chance of running quickly to my infantry in the rear. A
considerable body appeared, dashing wildly on, each man having
his pistol drawn, and, as they came near, I was saluted with
wild hurrahs. It was the lieutenant with his Texas company, who
told me that he had heard I had been captured, and he had
determined to rescue me at the risk of the lives of all, and the
men demanded it. Of course, I was much gratified, and, feeling
myself secure, we rode on rapidly to find out what had been done
at Braxton’s bridge. As we went, the first of the parties who
had crossed the river were visible but a short distance away,
three or four hundred yards along the edge of the river swamp to
which they had retired. We halted where the Braxton bridge road
joined the one I was on, and I sent in my staff officer, Captain
King, to tell the officer to march his command in my direction.
After waiting a long time, word came that he had started his
command on another road. He had become alarmed, because parties
of the enemy had been seen by his command to cross the river
above him, and he was apprehensive of being intercepted. I let
him go, although his scare cost his men a good many more miles
of marching. My escort, with myself in charge, rode on towards
the Ediste, bringing up the rear. I would very much like to read
your account of what took place when you were with Paysinger. He
would come in after a scout between twelve and daylight at
night, and would report to me at once, and he gave valuable
information as to the movements of the enemy.
The morning after the Battle of Bentonville he came to my tent
about three o’clock a. m., and told me that the enemy were
moving on our left. I so reported to General Hardee, but he had
been notified by General Hampton that the enemy were marching on
my right, and I was sent with my command on the right. I then
told General Hardee that I was apprehensive that there was a
mistake, that I was so certain that our left would be attacked
and not the right, I would not fortify it, but wait for the
order to return to the left. We had not been on the right an
hour before General Hardee came himself in great haste, calling
for my command to hurry to the left, and we did get back just in
time to check the enemy. Of the things done in these days there
are many that I would like very much to have related again by
those who were participants, but it would hardly do to put them
in print. The conduct of the enemy was, however, so exasperating
that there was no treatment too harsh as a punishment for their
misdeeds, and I have always regretted that there had not been
more scouting parties organized to follow in the wake of
Sherman’s army and circulate on his flank. Your company acting
as scouts, as well as escort, working in small parties,
encouraging individual daring and enterprise, was equally as
efficient as a much larger body moving in compact mass under one
head.
I shall always remember with pleasure the duties you performed
while acting as my escort and also the pleasure I had in my
personal intercourse with you, as individuals. I always kept in
my mind that the individual soldier was entitled to be treated
with the respect due to a gentleman, if his behavior warranted
it. This in our Southern army. You will oblige me by assuring
all of Company B of my high regard and respect for them
individually as brave and honorable men, and collectively as an
organized company, for I gave them a chance to show their
characters in both ways, and was sorry to part with you all.
Very truly your obedient servant,
L. McLAWS.
We served with General McLaws until after the Battle of Bentonville and
to the time of surrender of Johnston’s army at Jonesboro, North
Carolina, never uniting with the regiment again, though occasionally
meeting with them, notably at the Battle of Bentonville, where they
distinguished themselves by one of the most brilliant charges ever made
by cavalry. This charge was made without our company (as we were with
General McLaws and the infantry) and resulted in the safety of the whole
army by saving an only bridge across a deep river, the only means of
retreat of the army. It seems this bridge was guarded by some of
Hampton’s cavalry, when General Sherman ordered Mower’s corps to make a
dash around our left flank and capture this bridge and destroy it. While
Mower was proceeding to do this by a rapid advance in the rear of our
army, he had his pioneer corps with their spades and picks ready to
entrench, and when in sight of the bridge, he poured a volley on the
South Carolina cavalry, who immediately abandoned it. General Hardee
dashed up to where our regiment was formed, at the time perhaps not
numbering two hundred men, and asked, “Who commands this regiment?” A
Lieutenant Matthews spoke and said he was in command of the regiment
this morning. The general asked, “Lieutenant, can you hold those people
in check until I can bring up the infantry and artillery?” He answered,
“General, we are the boys that can try,” and called to the Rangers to
“Come on.”
Right here I would mention a sad incident in connection with this
charge. General Hardee had an only son, a boy about eighteen years old,
who importuned him for a month or more, to allow him to join the Texas
Rangers, and he had only given his consent that morning for the boy to
join the regiment and he had fallen into rank with Company D. Another
case: Eugene Munger, a cousin of our Dallas Mungers, who had borne a
charmed life from the time he joined the Rangers after the Battle of
Shiloh, and had never had a scratch, happened to be on a visit to the
regiment, talking with some friends, when this charge was ordered. As
they went in, passing by General Hardee, his son saluted him. The
Rangers went into a thick woods, hardly suited for a cavalry charge,
raising their accustomed yell and with their pistols, dashed into the
first line of infantry, who on account of the sudden, unexpected
onslaught, must have overshot them in their first volley. The Rangers
were right among them, drove them into the second line, which became
demoralized and fell back in confusion, the Rangers immediately
withdrawing with quite a number of prisoners, bringing out their dead
and wounded. Among the dead were Hardee’s son and Eugene Munger. But
they accomplished what was intended. General Hardee had brought up his
infantry and artillery, which held the enemy in check until night, when
the army crossed the bridge and was saved.
About an hour before the Rangers’ desperate charge, General McLaws sent
for me, when I found him immediately in the rear of his breastworks. He
instructed me to take two or three men of the company and move around in
the rear of Sherman’s army and ascertain if Schofield’s army, who had
headquarters at Goldsboro, was moving to the support of Sherman, telling
me that our army would fall back that night on the road to Raleigh and I
would find him somewhere on that road. Taking three other members of the
company, among whom was Virge Phelps, an old Mexican and Indian fighter,
a man of extraordinary nerve, we proceeded across the bridge, then up
Mill Creek towards Little River, where we found a division of the enemy
camped about fifteen miles towards Goldsboro. We then proceeded on
towards Goldsboro and found everything quiet outside of the enemy’s
camps. We ran in vidette pickets on several roads leading into
Goldsboro, when finally we reached the town of Pikeville, the first
station on the Goldsboro and Weldon Railroad. Here we stopped to make
some inquiries, wearing our Federal overcoats and drawing up at a house
for this purpose we asked for a drink of water. A very good looking,
intelligent lady came out with a bucket and dipper and handed us water.
On inquiry we found the enemy had never entered the town and none had
been seen there. Finally this good lady asked us what command we
belonged to. We told her that we belonged to the Fourth New York
Cavalry, which claim we had made at several places where we had stopped
for information. This woman kept looking at us and finally said, “Young
man, you can’t fool me; you are no Yankees, you are some of our own
folks.” I asked her why she thought so. “Well,” she said, “I imagine
Yankees don’t talk like you do,” which caused us to laugh, and as we
then had decided to return and make report to General McLaws, I thought
it wouldn’t make any difference to tell her who we were and stated that
we belonged to Wheeler’s cavalry. This brought forth a tirade of abuse
from this woman. I said Wheeler’s cavalry purposely to ascertain if the
terrible name of Wheeler’s cavalry had reached there. Wheeler’s cavalry,
through misrepresentations and frequently through the acts of Yankee
scouting parties claiming to belong to Wheeler’s cavalry, had gained a
very unenviable reputation, so when we claimed to belong to Wheeler’s
cavalry, this woman said, “I wish I was a man; I would shoulder a gun
and help put you down and only wish the Yankees would come in here right
now and kill the last one of you.” I said, “Madam, you needn’t wish for
the Yankees, you will have them soon enough and get a taste of some of
their deviltry.” We then proceeded back in the direction of the Raleigh
road from Bentonville.