USA > Florida > Dixie County > Seventy-seven years in Dixie : The boys in gray of 61-65, civil war memoirs of a soldier in the first Florida infantry > Part 5
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CHAP. XI
OUR LAST BATTLE IN THE WAR
A FTER our retreat from Nashville, we went to Corinth where we stayed four or five days. We had captured six so-called bushwhackers. We were marched out to an old field the fifth morning and drawn up in line; those six bushwhackers were placed down upon their knees fastened with their hands tied behind them to a stake. Twelve men with loaded guns were marched in front of the six men, and orders were given by the officers in command of the twelve men to fire, and the six men dropped dead except one, who was shot the second time. Our whole command was marched along by the six dead bodies.
A little incident that shows what men will do sometimes, occurred when our ragged remnant of Hood's army was going to reinforce Johnston in South Carolina. After moving down through the Mississippi Valley onto the Alabama River, we took the steamboat for Montgomery [Alabama]. We took the train to Columbus, Georgia, and when we reached there we were formed in line in the street while the ladies of the town gave us a splendid supper from baskets. We took the train again for Macon [Georgia], the higher officers all being in the rear coach, and some of the boys, to have a good time in Macon, pulled the coupling pin and dropped off this rear
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OUR LAST BATTLE IN THE WAR
coach, so when we got to Macon we had no generals. They were good and mad but could never find out who it was that pulled the coupling pin.
From Macon we went to Milledgeville [Georgia] where we took up a line of march through the country to Augusta [Georgia]. Here we crossed a very large bridge over into South Carolina, then onto Chesterfield near where we got into North Carolina. We marched direct through the state until we met Sherman's army at Bentonville [March 19-21, 1865], then we whipped Sherman's troops and drove them back and also captured a lot of the Yankees' baggage and guns. This battle was the last battle of war with us.
We were then commanded by General J. E. Johnston. Soon after our fight at Bentonville, we fell back to the railroad leading from Greensboro to Wilmington [North Carolina] and went to camps at a station called Smithfield, where we remained six or seven days. Then we received orders to go up to the commissary and draw four days' rations, blue beef and musty corn meal-every soldier to cook up his four days' rations and be ready to march at four o'clock next morning. We were all ready to march on the road at the appointed time-we were put on what our generals called a forced march for four days and nights and ate our blue beef and musty, half-cooked cornbread as we marched along the long road. The word was that we were trying to meet General Lee's army; it seems to me that we crossed a great many creeks and other streams of water on that four days' long march through North Carolina. Some of the creeks were so deep that our men had to put their equipment on top of their heads. We waded every stream we came to, the water would take us up to the armpits-the
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order was to hurry up to meet Lee. The night of the fourth day's march we were up near Greensboro, where we halted about nine o'clock and were ordered to stack arms and rest. By the time I stopped and sat down I was asleep and knew nothing more until the next morning.
I was awakened by the voice of some commanding officer calling the soldiers to attention. He said that the order was for all the soldiers to remain in place until further orders. Some of the boys yelled to the officer to bring rations around, that they had not eaten anything in two days-it is true to say that there was a great many men who would eat up four days' rations in two days. I believe that most of our command was out of rations after about two days and nothing else to eat. About eight o'clock the same morning General Brown, our division commander, came around on our part of the lines and called the command to attention and said:
My fellow soldiers, I have sad news to tell you. We have struck arms here for the purpose to surrender to General Sherman. General Johnston is now in conference with General Sherman coming to the terms of surrendering [April 18, 1865]. General
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OUR LAST BATTLE IN THE WAR
Lee has surrendered already. I advise you, good soldiers, to remain as you are and get your parole and try to get back to your old homes. Our army is completely surrounded by the enemy.
Then General Brown turned his large, black horse around to bid us farewell; a regular yell turned loose along the lines saying, "General Brown, we want rations. We are hungry and must have something to eat!" This was the fifth day since we drew the four days' rations.
General Brown turned and fronted the lines again and says, "Boys, our side has no more rations for you. I will see that you get rations from the other side."
Some of the men says, "General, we want something to eat today."
The General turned again in riding off. He says, "Good soldiers, I will get you something just as soon as I possibly can." I believe if I remember right we got no rations for three or four days after General Brown had left us. I believe it was the night of the third day when the rations came to our part of the lines, but when it did come, it came plentifully, good bacon, hard biscuits, sugar and good coffee. There was heavy eating done for a while-the Yankees were very kind to us, but now and then there would be one that would throw off on us. Myself and several others went up on the hill in the old field where all our wagons, cannons, ambulances, horses and mules were parked for the Yankees. There I got a very large mare, one of the battery horses that helped to pull our cannons. I got one old saddle and bridle and rode this mare home to Florida. I was three weeks in the saddle-I came through North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and into the Sea Coast of Florida. My old
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mare brought me through all of that long distance, but before I got halfway to Florida my old mare was as blind as a bat, and she died at my old home.
FLORIDA
ALABAMA
Coming through Georgia it was a very hard matter to get anything to eat or to get feed for my horse. I was very hungry one day about noon and noticed a good-looking house a short distance from the roadside. I thought that I would try to get dinner and my horse fed. I had tried several houses back on the road for something to eat but failed and I had not had breakfast, so I rode up to this house and hallooed.
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The landlady came out on the porch. Soldier-like I asked for something to eat and feed for my horse. In those days soldiers never called at a house for a meal, for if he did, he failed to get it. This good lady answered my call, "Who are you? A Yankee?"
I readily answered, "I am a Confederate soldier going home."
The good lady said, "Alight and bring your horse inside." I was very soon inside and met the landlady on the porch. She said, "We have but little for ourselves, but we will divide with a Confederate soldier. The mean old Yankees came along here the other day and took everything we had."
I told the good lady that the war was over and the soldiers are going home and she said, "Good news, daughter, and let us fix this soldier a good dinner, the war is over. I am so glad your papa will be home soon." She sure did give me a good dinner. After I finished eating I asked the lady what I owed for dinner and feeding my horse. She answered, "Nothing," but I paid her twenty-five dollars in Confederate money.
I said to the lady, "I have not told you the bad part of the war. Lee's and Johnston's armies are both surrendered, and we are whipped in the hands of the Yankees." The good woman almost shed tears.
I believe I was three weeks getting to Geneva, Alabama, near the line of Florida.
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CHAP. XII THE LITTLE WONDER THAT NEVER WAS SATISFIED
T HIS story tells of two little baby girls who were very hungry. Late in the evening when General Lee was falling back slowly before the enemy in front of Richmond, Virginia, he saw that it was important to plan a battle to save Richmond. He was forming his lines of battle through the thick underbrush to meet the great army of the North.
He saw it was necessary to have all the families that would be in danger of shells and shot to move to the rear, out of danger. The mother of these two little girls was near General Lee's lines, and General Lee sent his headquarters' wagons to the aid of this noble family to move them to the rear at once.
When the wagons arrived they were soon loaded and off for the rear with those little baby girls and furniture. After traveling all night they found themselves near a neighbor's house and they stopped for a call and a few minutes' rest. Daylight was just approaching and those two little girls had been hurried off from their home that night without supper and they were very hungry. This lady neighbor called the refugees in to have breakfast, so the retreating lady with her two hungry little girls were soon out of the wagon and in the house around the cook stove waiting for the biscuits to get
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THE LITTLE WONDER THAT NEVER WAS SATISFIED
done. But it seemed that the woman's stove was filled with green wood and those little girls were waiting and watching those biscuits to get done, but it was all in vain. A staff officer came up and said those wagons must go to the rear at once, so the little girls were forced away and did not see the biscuits done.
Several years afterwards, when those little girls were young ladies, one of them wrote a little piece about the biscuits. Her little wonder was this: "Did those biscuits ever get done?"
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CHAP. XIII
SUMMARY -
THESE BATTLES OF '61 - '65 WERE FOUGHT BY THE BOYS IN GRAY
( OMRADES of Fishing Creek, Shiloh, Perryville, Murfreesboro, Jackson, Chickamauga, Missionary Ridge, Kennesaw Mountain, Peach Tree Creek, Atlanta, the battle of the 22nd of July near Atlanta, Jonesboro, Franklin, Nashville, Bentonville, our last battle on this historic battlefield, amid the roar of cannons, shrieks of shells, the rattle of musketry, and the shouts of living and groans of the wounded and dying, cheering each other on to victory or defeat, or death ties of affectionate friendships were formed that bind us into one brotherhood by an invisible chain that is being shortened link by link, and ere long the last link will be broken in the presence of the new-made grave, some of the tenderest recollections of our lives are awakened and brought forth from memory, memories however sad, dear alike to you and me, because they are embalmed in sorrow, suffering, sacrifice and tears.
The visitation of this sad dispensation of an all-wise and a most merciful God, visibly reminds each of us old
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SUMMARY
comrades that at best, a very few years remain to us upon this earth.
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Let us this day resolve to make our callings and election sure and so live that when the roll is called up yonder we will have an unbroken reunion of all Confederate veterans who risked their all amid privation and suffering for four long years in defense of all that is dearest to man, home and loved ones, and to protect and maintain the most brilliant and magnificent civilization the world has ever known-that of our Southland. Every Confederate soldier's tombstone is as touching as his last tear upon the white bosom of his young manhood's bride and as tender as his farewell words to those who will sit among the graves of the Confederate veterans some future day and write sweeter songs than mortal ears ever heard before, because each tombstone is a volume within itself.
Forty-five years ago the 26th day of April, 1865, the Confederate flag, with its cross of its stars and bars, was furled at Greensboro, North Carolina, for the last time, and we are content to let it stay so forever. There is enough of glory and sacrifice encircled in its folds, not only to enshrine it in our hearts forever, but the trumpet of fame that must be silenced within it ceases to proclaim the splendid achievement over which that flag floated while we wore the gray four long years.
I am sincerely Seventy-Seven Years in Dixie.
H. W. REDDICK SANTA ROSA, FLORIDA
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CHAP. XIV
CIVIL WAR POEMS
nancy Voith
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
THE GOOD OLD CONFEDS
T the good old Confeds marched over hills, fields, and valleys,
On lots of battlefields they discharged many roaring volleys. They knew not what moment that would be their last, That they would be slaughtered in the fields of the blast. They marched over broad fields from East to the West, To fight for their rights which they thought best.
The good old Confeds in Gray,
Are now at home in peace,
We hope each one a long, happy life,
And at home he may stay.
Let us now do honors to the "Good old Confeds,"
For it won't be long before They'll all be dead.
We must not forget our Mothers Who stayed and kept their homes, Praying, and working at their looms. The war is now ended between the North and South, Twas four long years spent at the cannon's mouth. My Father allowed me this space in his little book, Which is an opportunity I gladly took.
WALKER H. REDDICK NOMA, FLORIDA
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
THE BOYS IN GRAY OF '61 -'65
W ho fears to speak of "Sixty One" Who blushes at its fame? When cowards sneer at deeds then done, Who hangs his head in shame?
He's all a knave or half, a slave, Who slights his record thus:
But a true man like you men, Will fill his glass with us.
We drink the memory of the brave, The faithful not a few,
Some lie near Potomac's wave, Some sleep in "Oakdale too."
Hundreds are gone, but still live on. The names of those who died, All true men like you men, Remember them with pride.
Some 'neath the sods of distant States, Their patient hearts have laid,
Where with the stranger's heedless haste, Their unwatched graves were made.
But though their clay be far from us, Where friends may never come, In true men like you men, Their spirit's still at home.
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
The dust of some is Southern earth: Among their own they rest, For the same land that gave them birth Has caught them to her breast.
And we will pray that from their clay Full many a race may start, Of true men like you men, To act as brave a part.
They rose in dark and evil days, To right their native land:
They kindled here a living blaze, That nothing could withstand.
Alas, that might should vanquish right! They fell, and passed away. And true men like you men, Are far too few today.
Then here's their mem'ry, may it be For us a guiding light, To cheer, though lost our liberty, And lead us in the right!
Thru good and ill be patriots still, By each good impulse stirred. And you men, be true men, Like the dead of the gallant Third.
(AUTHOR UNKNOWN) SELECTED BY JOHN H. REDDICK SANTA ROSA, FLORIDA
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
BENEFITS OF THE CIVIL WAR
T the war, known as the Civil War, Which the men in Gray fought so noble to win, Was not without benefits to us, And even now we can see them.
It was inevitable, it could no more Have been avoided than you could have stayed The movements of the tides.
The world will be the final arbiter, So long as society remains irrational, and human Governments are imperfect; But the war, with all its dark catalogue of horrors, Brought many many blessings.
It developed the many virtues of our people, And taught them to be more self-sacrificing.
Again, the war built upon more certain and enduring foundations the government of the United States, and it firmly stands upon a broader and stronger basis than before.
The question may be asked, "Were we honest in our convictions and sincere in our alignage to the Confederate States?" We may most assuredly say, "Yes," nor does this affect our loyalty to the government of the United States.
It is something to have illustrated the valor of a people, to have carried a nation's flag without dishonor through a hundred battles and set an example to coming eyes of what unselfish heroism can accomplish.
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
And the day is not far distant when the courage and heroic deeds of these brave and noble men will be recognized as the common heritage and glory of a prosperous and patriotic people.
All honor is due this dear old soldier who has composed this little book as a token of the brave and heroic deeds of his countrymen and himself, who is hale and hearty at the age of SEVENTY-SEVEN, and may he survive many happy years on earth with us yet.
ETTIE LOUISE STRICKLAND INDA, MISSISSIPPI
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
ALL SOON BE GONE
n eighteen hundred and sixty-one The war between the States had just begun.
There came a call for manly men- Both father and son enlisted then. They were true, brave and strong; Only a few more years and they'll all be gone.
We meet them everywhere we go,
Some are lame, halt, and blind, you know.
God knows we love them. He loves them more.
It was for a noble cause, and Oh! When the guns begin to roar,
Brave, true and noble men onward they would go.
And then we thought they'd come back to stay, Let's honor them while they live, they'll soon go away, But don't forget their loved ones were at home, They worked, tugged, wove and spun, Prayers were heard from every loom, "God save our noble men!"
Confederate soldiers they were brave and true, As they marched under the RED WHITE AND BLUE. Say kind words to them as you go on For they all will soon be gone.
ARTHUR B. HARRISON NOMA, FLORIDA
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY
n battle array the Blue and the Gray, Met in arms on the soils of the South,
And without any fear, though life was so dear, To be spent at the cannon's mouth.
Fierce was the fight for what was deemed right, By the warriors, each for his own,
But little the care each other would share If the future could only atone.
Then came the glad day for the Blue and the Gray To depart from the fields of the strife:
Once more to engage (And peace was the wage) In the goodlier callings of life.
Oh! Great was the blight, whether wrong or right, Of the war of the Blue and the Gray,
And sad was the song, howe'r grievous the wrong, In the hearts of the people that day.
So many were lost of that mighty host That marched to the beat of the drum,
That their graves are found on every mound- They never would homeward come.
But there's never a wrong that hasn't its song Of a right and a triumph, too;
And the triumph is sung, by every tongue, Of the war of the Gray and the Blue.
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
For in freedom's own land united we stand On the ashes of hate and strife;
And as peace will endure so our flag is secure As the emblem of National life.
All honor today for the Blue and the Gray Whether they fought for the right or the wrong; Their old story is told and 'twill never grow old- Tis a glorious triumph song.
(AUTHOR UNKNOWN)
SELECTED BY VELMA MCDONALD SANTA ROSA, FLORIDA
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
THE GRAY AND THE BLUE
T
"wo armies covered hill and plain Each fought with all might and main,
General Scott pressed forward that day With his boys in blue, While Beauregard said to his boys in gray: "To the flag we'll stand true."
The soldiers flocked down to the banks, Till bordered by its pebbles. One wooded shore was blue with "Yanks," And one was gray with "Rebels."
When all was silent, and the band, With movement bright and tricksy, Made forest and stream, hill and strand, Reverberate with "Dixie"
Then a pause and then again, The boisterous trumpets pealed And "Yankee Doodle" was the strain, And the music was revealed.
In Blue or Gray the soldier sees As by a wand of a fairy, The cottage 'neath the live-oak trees, The cabin by the prairie.
IDA DAVIS MERIDIAN, MISSISSIPPI
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CIVIL WAR POEMS
THE PARTING VOLLEY
W ith arms reversed the ranks passed on, The muffled drum marks flattered tread, A muster roll reads simply gone, One more is numbered with the dead. A Crash! The parting volley rolls, A requiem among earth's souls.
The flag hung drooping from the masts, Faint echoes come and go and die, Tears fill the eyes welled from the past, Of those who see a comrade lie Where memory must be a name, And tablets praise a hero's frame.
What then? A soldier gives his life,
For love of country valorous deeds, And lies as one whom carnal strife Marked for its own among its seeds. Ah, yes! Ere yet a flashing blade Was drawn or sheathed his grave was made.
Who calls the names of those to fall? Ask of the God of battles, who? But they are known. And some of all Who go to war to dare to do Know that the piercing shot will bring To him his altar's offering.
- Continued -
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SEVENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN DIXIE
Some meet the shock within the fray,
Some fall within the nurses' tent maintained. Weak and gaunt they waste away, Yet to its end each way is bent; The end? Deserved promotion calls To higher life each one that falls.
(AUTHOR UNKNOWN) SELECTED BY LILLA GUNN SANTA ROSA, FLORIDA
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ABOUT THE EDITOR
Karen Schansman is a native of Wichita, Kansas. She was one of the founders and served on the board of the South Walton Three Arts Alliance in Walton County, Florida for three years. Karen served on the editorial staff and contributed articles for the Three Art Alliance's two historical books, The Way We Were: Recollections of South Walton Pioneers and Of Days Gone By: Reflections of South Walton County, Florida. In addition to editing this volume, Karen has edited This Is My Life by Walker H. Reddick Sr. Karen and her husband Terry live on Hewett Bayou off the Choctawhatchee Bay a few miles from the homestead of Henry Reddick on Four Mile Point.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
Nancy R. Voith is a native of Maryland, but her twenty-six years of residing in Texas have influenced her artwork by offering numerous opportunities for professional study and artistic inspiration. She currently lives half of the year in Nashville and the other half in Santa Rosa Beach. Her work has been featured in numerous national juried shows in thirteen states. Harmony Farms Antiques and Gallery in Pulaski, Tennessee is currently offering several of her paintings. Nancy's favorite media are watercolor, pastels, and ink.
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Seventy-Seven Years in Dixie
Retiring after supper to the porch swings and hammocks overlooking the Choctawhatchee Bay in Northwest Florida, H. W. Reddick's children would be enthralled as he regaled them with stories of his Civil War battles in Kentucky, Mississippi, Tennessee, North Georgia and North Carolina.
At the age of seventy-seven and losing his eyesight, Reddick set his Civil War experiences to paper by patiently dictating to two of his adult children. Self-published in 1910, the few remaining copies of the original book have rarely been accessible, hence the importance of this revised edition.
Reddick's words on the Battle of Franklin, Tennessee
When my comrade and I reached the breastworks we met an officer who told me that I was to go to the Carter house and join the burial detail. . .. The next two days was the most horrible that I ever put in, in my life. Though it has been more than forty years since then, the scenes of that battlefield are as fresh in my mind as though it was yesterday. . .. The bodies were so thick that we could have stepped from one to another, and to think that these were our own boys, who had left all that was near and dear to them to fight for the cause they believed was right.
One of the first things I saw that morning was General Pat Cleburne's old sorrel horse astraddle of the Yankee breastworks, just as he had tried to jump over. We went up to him and lying just over inside the breastworks was the body of the General and near his that of General [John] Adams, both surrounded by the bodies of the Yankee and Confederate dead.
Reddick's eloquent summary
Every Confederate soldier's tombstone is as touching as his last tear upon the white bosom of his young manhood's bride and as tender as his farewell words to those who will sit among the graves of the Confederate veterans some future day and write sweeter songs than mortal ears ever heard before, because each tombstone is a volume within itself.
I am sincerely Seventy-Seven Years in Dixie.
H. W. Reddick Santa Rosa, Florida 463
ISBN 0-1. $8.952-9
90000 >
EAN
9 780966 680577
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