USA > Tennessee > The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and early western history, including a chronological summary of battles and engagements in the western armies of the Confederacy > Part 4
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Soon after this conference, two Indians were discovered slipping along from tree to tree. Captain Reid went forward at once, in the same cautious manner in order to get a shot. He had reached a small
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tree and was standing at a ready, when a sharp report broke the morn- ing stillness, and his right arm fell useless to his side, from a bullet which entered at the wrist and come out near the elbow. Double Head, the Indian leader, had crawled to a small log not ten paces from him and fired the first shot. Reid was unable to take advantage of his antagonist's empty gun, and made his way quickly back to his line, with the war whoop ringing in his ears.
The Indians were already in position, and the battle began at once along the entire line. The whites were as brave a body of men as could have been collected anywhere, and cool and cautious enough to make their marksmanship tell in an affair of this kind. Their adver- saries were smarting under the disgrace of having their camp plundered and were disposed to bring on a hand to hand conflict.
The chiefs bravely urged their followers to the attack, but Indian courage was not equal to such a task in the face of what they had already suffered from the rifles of the whites. So, after a prolonged tree to tree contest, they withdrew from the field. There were four killed on the part of the whites-Straitor, Scoby, and two others whose names my informant, Captain Rogan, has forgotten.
Captain Reid being disabled, passed along the line to encourage the men. At one point he met Joe Elliott, who had received a wound across the abdomen. Joe was a good deal disconcerted by the event and supposed he was mortally hurt, until he ventured on an experi- ment in backwoods diagnosis; which was to bore his finger into the wound and carry it to his nose. Not perceiving what he foreboded, he caught up his castaway rifle and went back into the fight, well sat- isfied from the experiment that he was not seriously injured, and so it proved in the end.
The whites retreated soon after the Indians left, and made their way back into the settlements without further molestation.
SKETCHES OF CAPT. EDMOND JEN- NINGS.
C APTAIN EDMOND JENNINGS, one of the bravest and most efficient actors in the Heroic Age of Tennessee history, has re- ceived, by some strange mischance, so little attention from our annal-
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THE ANNALS OF THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE.
ists, that we will publish, from time to time, a number of sketches and anecdotes which will give his name the place on record which it so eminently deserves. We have been so fortunate as to get from the lips of the aged Captain Frank Rogan, of Sumner co., Tenn., a fuller account than could have been expected at this late day, of this neg- lected warrior, who had as much iron in his nature as Andrew Jackson, and who contributed as much, by his valor and fortitude, to the found- ing of this great Commonwealth as any other man in his sphere.
A Buffalo Hunt.
Edmond Jennings and Josh Thomas were out one wintry day on the Cumberland above Nashville, on a buffalo hunt. The ground was covered with snow, and the weather was bitter cold. The buffalo herd being wild, led them into a bend of the river and back to the neck of land whence they started. On crossing their own trail. they discovered a number of moccasin tracks in pursuit. At this discovery they broke for the river, which was swollen from recent rains. Both of the men were expert swimmers, and as hardy as Indians.
So they plunged at once into the icy current, swinging their powder horns to the locks of their rifles so as to keep them above water. In this way they accomplished the passage of the swollen stream, and made their way toward the French Licks, as Nashville was then called. On reaching Stone's river it too was high, and they had to cross it in the same way as they did the Cumberland. It was now night, and the weather bitter cold. On reaching the Donelson settlement, which had been broken up by an Indian attack the year before, they resolved to build a fire out of the fence and dry out; this they did, and spent a comfortable night without further molestation.
Swimming the Tennessee at Florence.
Jennings and Josh Thomas were inseparable on the hunt or scout. Thomas was very strong, and one of the most daring of that race of pioneers which gave to our escutcheon its brightest blazonry. At the age of eighteen he was a match at wrestling or fisticuff for any of the stalwart occupants of the stations. He was the only man mortally wounded at Nickajack, and this was the result of imprudence in not taking a tree, as Jennings urged him to do.
When Colonel Robertson was at the Tennessee river on his Coldwater Expedition, it became a serious question how he could cross his men.
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A canoe had been observed on the other side during the day, and it was important to secure it. He called for volunteers to swim the river, which was spread out nearly a mile wide at this point. Josh Thomas offered his services if any one would go with him. . At that moment a plunge was heard in the water, and the Colonel asked, " Who was that ?" "Edmond Jennings," was the reply. Edmond didn't want any formality about the thing, and stood not a moment on the order of his going. Thomas plunged in after him, and they soon disappeared in the darkness. Edmond, in telling the circumstance years after, said he got bothered, and swam a long time without making much headway, but, said he, " I finerly tuck a stair (star) and made the landing on the other side." Thomas also made the passage safely. They found the canoe, and got into it to return, but it was so leaky that one had to bale the water out while the other paddled. They made so much noise that their friends were on the point of firing into them for Indians.
Jennings was with Captain Rains, who was sent to the mouth of the creek to intercept the Indian retreat by their canoes. When the fight opened, the whites charged with great rapidity on all points. Jen- nings was riding a young mare, which ran away with him, carrying him ahead of his party. Being the first to reach the crossing where the Indians were already taking to their canoes, he quickly dismounted, and, according to his declaration, killed two at one shot as they were making off in their canoe; the rest quit the boat and dived for their lives. He was armed with Buchanan's fowling-piece, a famous gun in that day. Putnam states that there were six volunteers who swam the river to get the canoe, but Captain Rogan mentions only the names of Jennings and Thomas in this connection.
Swimming the Tennessee at Nickajack.
Jennings performed another feat of swimming at Nickajack, which shows what manner of man he was. He swam the river many times during the night, pushing over the raw-hide boats, which contained the guns and ammunitions, and wound up by carrying over Lieutenant Blackmore, who was no swimmer. George Flynn, a boy raised by Obi Terrill, was the first to cross. He built up a fire for some pur- pose, and was cursed so loudly by Blackmore from the other side that the latter committed the worst offense of the two.
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THE ANNALS OF THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE
SKETCHES OF THOS. SHARPE SPENCER.
SINGULAR circumstance connected with Spencer is the fact that he had a middle name. Instances of this kind were exceedingly rare among the men of that period. I notice but a few in the records furnished by Ramsey. It was plain Andrew Jackson, John Sevier, James Robertson, etc.
He was remarkable for his great physical strength, lofty courage, do- cility of disposition, and love of solitude. He was, without doubt, the first white man who cleared land on the Cumberland.
The site of this historic spot is on the farm of Colonel A. R. Wyne, at Castallian Springs, Sumner county. He performed this labor after Holiday had left him alone in the depths of the wilderness. His idea was that he would be entitled to hold all of the sections on which he made a clearing. He cleared first at Bledsoe's Lick, then at Green- fields, the site of the Chenault homestead now, and, subsequently, near where Gallatin now stands. Being restrained to one tract, he se- lected the latter, which is known to this day as "Spencer's choice." In making the clearing at Bledsoe's Lick, he used only an axe, with which he felled the trees and cut into convenient lengths; with these he made his fence, carrying logs which no two men of the present day would be able to lift in position. The date of this settlement is not precisely fixed. He was on this spot in 1776, and did this work in one of the three following years. Its centennary has certainly come, and the people of this neighborhood should formally plant another sycamore on the site of the old one, to mark the spot and perpetuate the memory of the man who laid the first foundation of their now peace- ful and prosperous homes, protected it with his strength, and finally paid for it with his blood.
That he was stronger than any two men of his day, the following in- cident will show : With the help of two stout men, he was building a house on "Spencer's choice." One day he lay before his fire sick, and disinclined to exertion. The others continued the work, but finally had to stop on account of their inability to raise the heavy end of a log to its place, though they had succeeded with the lighter end. Spencer tried to stimulate them by saying that he could put it up by himself, when one of them who had frequently expressed the belief that he was a match for Spencer, dared him insultingly to the trial. Spencer arose and lifted the log to its place with the greatest ease, and
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returned to his pallet. His opponent after this ceased to put in any claims of rivalry.
The first Court-house built at Nashville was made of cedar logs, and the first time Spencer saw it he proposed to throw it over the bluff, log by log, if any one would treat to a quart of rum. No one took the banter.
On a visit to Demumbrane's store, he reached across the low counter, took some article from the shelf which he wanted to examine. De- mumbrane, thinking he meant to take it by force, struck him across the head with a small stick. Spencer amply avenged the insult and blow by pulling his antagonist across the counter and greasing him from head to foot with buffalo tallow, of which there was a barrel standing conveniently.
His peaceful disposition is illustrated in the following instance : Two young men were vigorously pommelling each other on some public oc- casion, when Spencer stepped up and separated them at arms length, mildly remonstrating with them on their conduct. Bob Shaw, a very 'stout man himself, wanted to see the fight, and dealt Spencer a sting- ing blow in the face for interfering. Spencer instantly turned on Shaw, and, seizing him by the nape of the neck and the waistband of his trowsers, carried him bodily to a high fence not far off and tossed him over. This ended all fighting while he was present.
While on the scout or march, he always preferred to go some dis- tance in advance or rear, for safety as he thought, trusting to his own watchfulness to avoid danger. This peculiarity finally cost him his life. He had been to North Carolina to get a legacy of two thousand dollars in specie, and was returning with a train of wagons through the South Pass of Cumberland mountains, now known as Spencer's Hill. As usual, he was far in advance, though it was one of the most dan- gerous localities on the route. A number of the whites had been killed or wounded here at different times; among the former, Arm- istead Morgan, the best fiddler in the Cumberland settlement, and, withal, an excellent Indian fighter. On this occasion, Spencer was fired upon at short range and fell dead; his horse turned quickly, throwing off his saddle-bags containing his money, and made his way back to the train. It would be an act of justice and wisdom if the Tennessee Legislature would appropriate a few dollars to have a rough stone on the wayside in this locality, faced and properly inscribed to the memory of one of the bravest defenders of her infant settlements- Thomas Sharpe Spencer.
VOL. I, NO. 1 .- 3.
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THE ANNALS OF THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE
THE HEROISM OF HUGH ROGAN
AT BLEDSOE'S STATION.
D URING a night attack by the Indians on Bledsoe's Station, Col- onel Anthony Bledsoe was mortally wounded. The fires in the Station were extinguished at the first outset. After the Indians were repulsed, mainly by the bravery of Hugh Rogan, Colonel Bledsoe was discovered to be in a dying condition. He was the owner of large tracts of land, and was anxious to make a will dividing it in a certain way between his wife and children. The fire-places were searched, but not a spark could be found from which to get a light. The only resource was at the cabin of old Katy Shaver, who lived several hun- dred yards from the fort. This old lady, whose husband and family had all been killed in the massacre at Mansker's Station some years before, lived alone, and was regarded with superstitious fear by the Cherokees, who knew her history and her defenseless condition. Dur- ing all the bloody encounters in this vicinity, they avoided her with scrupulous care, believing she was under the protection of the Great - Father, who would avenge any injury done her.
Hughy Rogan announced his determination to go to Katy Shaver's for fire, but his proposition met with a universal protest from the little garrison, as a large body of Indians were known to be in the vicinity of the place, and for him to attempt to return with a blazing fagot in his hand, would almost insure his destruction. He merely remarked that a "dying man should have his last request gratified," and, opening the door, plunged into the horrors of the outer darkness, amid the prayers and tears of the garrison, who listened breathlessly for the shot that would lay low their bravest defender. He reached his des- tination in safety, and in a few minutes returned with the fire blazing his way through the darkness. Not a shot was fired at him, as prov. identially the Indians were out of the way at that particular time.
The self-sacrificing spirit of this brave Irishman has never been sur- passed, and rarely equaled. The act had in it all the elements of the " Heroic" in a superlative degree.
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1791001 THE SOLDIER'S WAR-BAG.
Old Darb Greer's Joke on Lewis Peach .- All of those who ever came in contact with the late John Greer, of Fayetteville, Tenn., will remember him as the "Ned Brace" of Tennessee. He and Lewis Peach belonged to the same mess in the Eighth Tennes- see Confederate Infantry. Peach was under medium size, but Darb said that he could hold his own at eating with any man in the army. He had often twitted him about the habit; but Lewis, unluckily, one day, afforded the opportunity of a practical joke, which Darb was not slow to take advantage of. We will let him (Lewis) tell it his own way, as he did years after in response to an inquiry :
"We were camped near Tullahoma, after the battle of Murfreesboro, and some one of the mess got to making corn-meal dumplings. When it came my turn to cook, I was ignorant of the process, but thought it was easy enough ; so I put on a big camp-kettle of them to cook, but they crumbled to pieces, and were nothing more than a mass of badly scorched mush. I took the kettle of abominations to a log near by, and emptied my dumplings on the ground. Old Darb had been down in the other end of camp, playing 'freeze out,' but, getting froze out before night, he came on back to the mess. . As he passed the log, he spied my dumplings, and asked ' Who did that?' 'Lewis Peach,' was the reply. That was as good as Darb wanted. He instantly yelled out, 'I told you all Lewis Peach was the biggest eater in the army ; come here and I'll prove it to you.' He was as solemn and earnest as an owl, and soon had a crowd of curious and astonished spectators around him, to whom he related a circumstantial account of the whole proceeding. Said he, 'I saw at dinner that he would have 'to throw up this mess or go to the grave-yard, and I watched him. He come right here and set right down on this log, and tossed it up." His imi- tation of the act, the location and the suspicious looking character of the mess, which had run down the slant for several yards, were con- vincing. Not a man doubted the truth of his story, but gazed, won- dered and believed; nay more, went off and reported the wonder in
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THE ANNALS OF THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE.
the most solemn manner. In an hour there were five hundred men crowding the spot, and tip-toeing, to get a look. Darb remained on the field to explain things and swear, in the most positive manner, that he would n't have believed any thing human could have held that much if he had n't a seen it with his own eyes. I knew it was of no use to try to explain the matter as long as Darb was present. In fact, I was badly plagued at the turn of events, and crawled off into my bunk, and staid there the rest of the evening. I thought the matter would blow over by the next morning, but, bless you, the crowd only in- creased. They came from all over Polk's Corps to see the eighth won- der of the world. Darb was at his post to swear to the fact, and when he pointed me out as the little fellow that did it, men looked on me in astonishment, pity and disgust, and I was glad to take refuge in my bunk, where I staid the rest of the day. The whole of Polk's corps religiously believed Darb's story, and do to this day, for aught I know, I was a marked man, and was continually pointed out as 'the little fellow who eat a camp-kettle of corn dumplings.' Darb, poor fellow, died of yellow jack, at Havana, several years ago, and I reckon I'll have to forgive him the best I can."
We are happy to be able to set Lewis right before Polk's Corps, after fifteen years of misconception and flagrant injustice.
A Mother's Devotion .- On the 25th of December, 1864, a party of Confederate scouts made an attack on a band of Union Home- Guards at the house of Sol. Goodman, in Grundy co., Tenn. The latter took refuge in a barn, to which the attacking party set fire, and so compelled their surrender. In the fight, George Goodman, of the Confederates, had his arm broken by a bullet. At that time, and under the circumstances, it was almost equiv- alent to death, for it was a conflict of neighbor against neighbor, and animosities were embittered and intensified by many bloody acts on each side, which called loudly for revenge. In this instance, Goodman's father had been brutally murdered by three of Brixey's men, who had formerly lived on his place and had often expe- rienced his kindness. This act, of course, raised all of the devil in George's nature, and at every opportunity he made a raid into that section, and wreaked his vengeance upon his enemies. Now, that he was too badly wounded to make his way South to a place of safety, death truly stared him in the face as soon as his enemies should become
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AND EARLY WESTERN HISTORY.
aware of his defenseless condition. The news of his situation was borne to his widowed mother, and she at once realized its nature. As soon as possible she hastened to his assistance, determined to save him from the butchery which she knew would be his fate as soon as his whereabouts were made known. Four miles from her house there was a high cliff of rocks, near the top of Cumberland mountains, in a wild and unfrequented spot, and thither she contrived to get him without any one's help; for she feared the indiscretions of friends and a precious life, to her, hung on the event of concealment. The place was admirably suited for the purpose; the cliff jutted over, forming a roof, and some fallen rocks walled it in on one side. Waiting until midnight, she returned to her house four miles off, to get food and clothing. She knew that her absence and its object were known, and that her enemies would be on the lookout to discover George's whereabouts, so eager they were for his blood, and it can only be imagined with what caution she approached her own house, and what anxiety filled her breast until she secured what she wanted and was safely on her return. She had to cross Elk river on a log, but she said that she trusted in Providence that it would not break under her until her journeyings were ended. For thirteen long weeks, in the middle of the unusually severe winter of "64-5, she returned every third night to her home for provisions, crossing and recrossing the frail bridge, until George was sufficiently recovered to take care of himself. It was but a short time after she ceased her travels that a party of Federals attempted to cross on the log that had borne the faithful old mother so long, when it broke and precipitated them into the river.
Such is a brief description of the mental tension this heroic woman had to undergo for more than three months. She thought, for a long time, that George would die, but she says she never lost hope. She had dreamed before the war that she would save him on that mountain, and would cover him with a certain quilt. So, when she started to his succor, she remembered her dream and took the quilt with her, and, in the darkest hours, in looking on it she felt her courage revive. Now she says it all seems like a dream-the occurrences that made p that age of suffering under the cliff. She prayed to God every step she took-prayed continually. She scarcely ate or slept, for George needed constant attention ; the large nerve in his arm had been cut by the ball, and his suffering was acute and long continued, and his nervous system so shattered, in consequence, that he would scream out
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THE ANNALS OF THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE
in terror at the slightest noise. Erysipelas also attacked his wound, and added to his danger; he was often delirious, and groaned contin- ually. His mother says that one night, as she started off for food, she could hear him groan for a long distance, and could hardly hope that he would be alive on her return ; but, when she approached the spot and heard his moaning, these evidences of life, though tokens of great sufferings, and were the sweetest sounds she ever heard.
Although it was the dead waste and middle of winter, she dared not build much fire, lest the smoke would be a cloud by day and the light a pillar of fire by night to guide her enemies to the spot. Nearly every day she could see them in the valley below, and fre- quently the light of a burning house ; her own house was threatened, but she told her daughter to let it burn, and move nothing out.
Wild cats were numerous on the mountain, and their savage screams at night added to the wildness and loneliness of her situation. The bleating of a flock of sheep, which came occasionally and rested on the mountain side, was of the greatest company to her, for it betokened no harm, and it was a blessed consolation, amid the warring elements surrounding her, to hear some sounds of innocence and peace.
Poor woman ! as has been stated before, she scarcely ate or slept, and how she endured the mental strain of continual anxieties and fears, passes understanding. Faith, Hope, and Love all blended to give her strength, but the greatest of these was Love, which never once thought of bodily comfort, which halted before no danger nor sacrifice, but followed relentlessly as fate but one object-the saving of her darling boy.
The names of the murderers of old man Anderson Goodman were Mart. Phipps, - McChristian, and - Conatzy. The immediate cause was this: The old man was at a prayer-meeting one night, when these men shaved his mare's mane and tail. He met them on the Sunday following and upraided them for the act. They immedi- ately reported him to the blood-thirsty Brixey, at Tracy City, and he sent a squad to kill him, which they did on the following Tuesday. He was taken from his plow and carried about a mile. Phipps and Conatzy did the shooting, one ball striking him in the brain and the other in the chest. They forbade his body to be touched or buried, but this was attended to by the neighbors after the murderers left.
Conatzy was killed afterward, and Phipps, at last accounts, was a wanderer in the West, fearing to return.
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"Jeff Davis" Captures "Abe Lincoln."-Colonel James H. Hol- man, of Tennessee, was acting on the staff of Major-General Withers in the movement against one of Buell's columns in the neigh- borhood of Lawrenceburg, Ky., on the eve of the battle of Perryville. The hostile lines lay one night in short distance of each other, ready for the battle which was to begin the next day. The Colonel awoke at daylight from a hard bed by the road- side, where he had dropped down the night before, tired and supper- less, and, feeling the need of a square meal to support him through the arduous duties of the day, he set out for a farm-house, five hun- dred yards to the front and between the lines. As he reached the door, he saw two soldiers of the Nineteenth United States Regulars sitting at the fire-place. Being a man of great self-possession, he ' quietly remarked, "Boys, you are our prisoners."
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