HISTORY of the 18th ALABAMA INFANTRY REGIMENT - CSA

By Reverend Edgar W. Jones

Edited by Zane Geier 

Web Editor Stephen P. Barber

Flags of the 18th Alabama

Hardee pattern captured at Missionary Ridge. St. Andrews pattern - 1864

FOREWORD

In 1904 and 1905, Reverend Edgar W. Jones published a series of articles about the 18th Alabama Infantry Regiment in the Jones Valley Times, a local newspaper in Birmingham, Alabama. Reverend Jones was then editor of the Times. During the War For Southern Independence he was a corporal in Company G of that regiment.

This material is a 1994 reprint, with minor editorial changes, of all 35 of Reverend Jones's articles. Each article is presented as a separate chapter by date of publication in the Times. Location-oriented chapter titles were added to help the reader follow the route of the 18th Alabama during its existence.

David Pulcrano copied the articles from microfilms of the Jones Valley Times contained in the Tutwiler Collection of Southern History and Literature, Birmingham Public Library, Birmingham, Alabama. He graciously shared his computer file with me and agreed to further use of the material.

I added chapter titles where appropriate, made minor editorial changes - mainly paragraphing and capitalization - and reprinted. I also included an appendix containing information about regimental field and staff officers and companies and their captains. The appended material is the work of Alan Pitts and was developed from sources other than Reverend Jones.

My interest in the 18th Alabama Infantry Regiment stems from several ancestors who served with Company G: Robert Wiseman Huffman, Thomas William Huffman, Daniel Jackson Huffman, James C. Parsons, Wesley C. Parsons and Ringold Scott Parsons.

Deo Vindice

Zane Geier

3401 Eaton Road

Mountain Brook, AL 35223

(205) 967-2792

Organization and Movement to Mobile

Shiloh

Corinth/Mobile/Wartrace

Chickamauga

Results at Chickamauga

Chattanooga

Dalton

Rocky Face Mountain

Resaca

Resaca to Kennesaw

Kennesaw to Atlanta

Atlanta to Jonesboro

Jonesboro

Jonesboro to Dalton

Enroute to Gadsden

Across Sand Mountain

Down the Tennessee Valley to Florence

Florence

North from Florence

Columbia

Enemy Passes on Franklin Pike

Franklin

Nashville

Retreat at Nashville

Return through Franklin

South from Franklin

Back through Columbia, Pulaski and Shoal Creek

Struggle to the Pontoon Bridge

South of the Tennessee River to Mississippi

Back to Mobile Bay

In Spanish Fort

Seige of Spanish Fort

Leaving Spanish Fort

Guard Duty at Demopolis

Parole at Meridian

Appendix - Regimental Staff and Field Officers / Companies and their Captains



ORGANIZATION AND MOVEMENT TO MOBILE

December 22, 1904:

The ten companies that made up the 18th Alabama Regiment rendezvoused at Auburn and were mustered into the service of the Confederate States of America on the 19th of September 1861, though the date of service of most of the troops was weeks earlier. For instance, Company G's enlistment dated from July 7th, more than two months earlier.

The 14th Alabama was at Auburn when the companies of the 18th arrived. The 14th was commanded by Col. Thomas J. Judge, who immediately took command of all the volunteers and organized the 18th Regiment and was to command for several days before the arrival of Col. Edward C. Bullock. Col. Bullock was of the most genteel of gentlemen. He made a most favorable impression on all the men. Alas, he was stricken with fever only three or four weeks after his arrival in camp. He never recovered. His death was greatly regretted by officers and men alike. Eli S. Shorter, the Lt. Col. went up to Col. and James T. Holtzclaw, the First Major, was promoted to Lt. Col.

The regiment was made up as follows:

Company - Captain ----- County

A ----------- Moxly ------- Covington

B ----------- Brady ------- Coffee

C ----------- Oliver ------- Jefferson/Shelby/St. Clair

D ----------- Cox ---------- Coosa

E ----------- Inge --------- Tuscaloosa

F ----------- Armstrong - Butler

G ----------- Haughey --- Jefferson

H ----------- Smith ------- Pike

I ------------ Hunly ------ Shelby

K ----------- Calhoun --- Talladega

Perhaps I had as well to say here that much of what I shall write will be from memory, and may not always be absolutely correct hence we solicit corrections from any one who may know the facts to be other than as I state them.

The regiment remained at Auburn until toward about the first of November, when we were ordered to Huntsville, by way of Atlanta and Chattanooga. We remained only a few days at Huntsville when we were ordered to Mobile by way of Corinth, Miss. Arriving at Mobile, we were sent down the bay to the mouth of Dog River, where we went into a camp called Camp Meminger, in honor of the secretary of war.

Here we brigaded with the 19th Alabama, commanded by Col. Joseph Wheeler, and other troops. The brigade was commanded by Gen. Gladden. Much of our time was spent in drill. In the virgin pine forests we cleaned off a number of acres of ground to drill on. We dug up by the roots large pine trees. These trees, if in existence today, would make millions of feet of lumber.

Hundreds of our men had measles while at Auburn, and after our arrival at Mobile fever broke out among the men and hundreds died. As many as fifteen died in Company G. Many officers died also.

A number of captains and other officers were men well advanced in years. I would judge that Captains Moxley, Brady, Haughey, Smith and Cox were all over fifty years. Moxley, Smith, Brady and Cox all dropped out very soon. Capt. Oliver also resigned, as did Armstrong, Calhoun and Haughey, though Haughey went through the Battle of Shiloh. These old men could not stand the fatigue and exposure of camp life and soon thinned out.

An incident occurred at Camp Meminger that gave us to understand that we were under military law. A young man of Company A was convicted of stealing some money from Capt. Moxley. The sentence was that he should have his "head shaved and drummed out of the service." He was marched through the camp and outside and turned loose. This was called "drumming out of service." The band marched in front playing the "Thief's March," while the guard marched behind. A great crowd of men followed the procession. And when the limit of the camp was reached the guard turned back, but not so with the crowd, especially the base sort. They followed the poor fellow and would run up and kick him and knock his hat off and otherwise abuse him. Finally a man stepped up and handed the thief a knife and told him to defend himself. He finally turned on his tormentors and stabbed two, one so severely that he died in a few days from the wound. The thief then took to the march and this writer has never heard of him since.

We were twelve miles from Mobile by omnibus. This "bus" was well patronized by officers and men going to the city on "pass." Much whiskey was brought into camp in spite of Gen. Gladden's orders forbidding it. A guard was placed at the bridge across Dog River with orders to search for and confiscate all they could find. This enraged the men and officers and much was the "cussing'" done about it. It was said that the general and his staff would drink all the confiscated stuff they got. On one occasion a half filled bottle of a red liquid was taken to headquarters, and it was said that when the general drank it, it proved to be not whiskey. This made the general very angry, but raised a yell of merriment all through the camp.

Capt. Brady was in the "bus" at the time, and while he did not play the trick on the general, he knew about it, and being an officer he was held responsible. Capt. Brady was therefore out under arrest with privilege of his regimental quarters. After several days, the alternative of standing trial for conduct unbecoming a gentlemen and an officer or resigning his office as captain. He chose to resign and left the regiment, regretted by men and officers. I know nothing of his career since the day he left camp.

One other incident occurred that might be of interest. One night about midnight there came upon us a most fearful and terrific cyclone accompanied by an awful downpour of rain. We were all in comfortable plank cabins, most of which were unroofed and many blown down. The hospital, containing thirty-six men, was blown flat to the ground. It was remarkable that but one man was killed, and he was the sentinel at the door. It was pitiful and distressing to hear the cries and groans of the men under the wreck. Many men in the quarters were wounded. One afterwards died. It was a most thrilling experience.

About the first of February we were ordered to Corinth, which resulted in the beginning of the organization of the Army at Tennessee.

SHILOH

January 5, 1905:

At Corinth, everything was in motion. There was a great hurrying to and fro, troops were arriving from every direction. The noise and confusion incident to a camp of a large body of men was all new to the volunteers. Sickness prevailed almost to an epidemic and many died. The report reached camp that Generals Price and Van Dorn were coming with their veterans. The Eighteenth and, in fact, but few of the troops had even smelt powder or seen blood on the battlefield, hence the men composing the corps of Price and Van Dorn, having fought a number of battles in Missouri and Arkansas, were considered a show. When they came marching into camp I remember how the new troops stood and gazed at them in wonder. There was much talk of Beauregard, Bragg and Albert Sidney Johnston. These great leaders inspired much enthusiasm, especially Albert Sidney Johnston.

Time rolled rapidly by and the Ides of April approached when we were destined to take part in our first great struggle. It was with some degree of satisfaction that we received orders to cook three days' rations. Finally the march began on Thursday afternoon. It was by slow stages we moved. Thursday night there was a slow rain falling all night. Friday we reached the neighborhood of Pea Ridge. Friday and Saturday there was some skirmishing with the calvary. We saw a few wounded for the first time. Here we first saw Colonel, afterwards Gen. Forrest. Saturday night we knew we were in the vicinity of the enemy; nevertheless, we slept peacefully, little dreaming that before another night should come thousands would lie dead on the field of carnage and blood. A little before sunrise Sunday morning, April 6th, 1862, firing began among the pickets as our skirmishers pressed forward to bring on the engagement.

The Eighteenth had been brigaded with the Nineteenth, Second and Seventeenth Alabama, and the Second Texas, and commanded by Gen. J. K. Jackson of Georgia. I have no personal observation of his doings that day. The only field officers who impressed me that day by their gallantry were Maj. Holtzclaw and Col. Joe Wheeler. These certainly were conspicuous for being about the front of the column. When we started in about sunup we were in the reserve line, but soon got into the front column. The enemy seemed to be taken completely by surprise. As we passed through the enemy camp which we struck in less than ten minutes we found that they had been engaged in cooking and eating. In many instances the breakfast was half-cooked, and again it was half-eaten, and again it was spread out just ready to eat. There was the most perfect evidence of the enemy's surprise.

How a general could allow so large an army as the Confederates had to get so close and not learn of its presence has always looked to me like down right stupidity. It certainly is a fact that Grant allowed Johnston to make the attack without knowing that he was anywhere near him, notwithstanding Johnston's army had marched by slow stages having consumed three days in going twenty miles. It is folly to say that Gen. Grant was not taken by surprise. From the very start the enemy fled in confusion and we pursued them more than a mile before they got themselves together so as to make any show to fight.

The Eighteenth was halted and ordered to lie down. Maj. Holtzclaw rode along in front of the regiment and while thus riding he received a terrific shot through the body. He was laid upon the ground and a detail of six men was made to carry him on a litter twenty miles to Corinth. After many weeks he recovered so as to rejoin his Regiment.

As we lay upon the ground there was a terrific fire, the missiles passing over us. Just to our right the Second Texas was doing the most glorious fighting that it was ever my luck to witness. We lay in sight of what was called Shiloh Church. It was a small log house surrounded by a grove of hickory and oaks. We finally succeeded in dislodging the enemy from this place and got him on the run again. It must have been two or three miles before he made another stand. Just as the Yankees made a second stand William Hill was shot in the abdomen. He was my file leader and was just in front of me when he received the fatal wound. He died about midnight.

The enemy made a third stand late in the afternoon. We had been engaged fighting desperately for perhaps thirty minutes when we heard the command, "Cease Firing," and, looking, I saw a white flag or rather a white handkerchief tied to a long stick being held up. Firing ceased and Col. Wheeler rode to Gen. Prentiss, for it was he, and offered to take his sword, but Prentiss declined to give it to him on the ground that he was an inferior officer. Prentiss proved to be a most surly, crusty prisoner, cursing everything in sight, even to the soil of the country; snarling and snapping at everything.

The Eighteenth Regiment was ordered to carry Prentiss's Brigade of prisoners to Corinth, and hence did not participate in the battle on Monday.

This writer, having been detailed to assist in carrying comrade Hill off the battlefield just after dark, was detained by the surgeon, Dr. Barnett, to assist with the wounded during the night. The location was in a deep ravine and a heavy rain fell in the night, and the wounded had to be moved up the hill out of the overflow. That night I had access to the Yankee camps and sutler's tents. I had not eaten nor drank during the day so we satisfied our appetite to the fullest extent.

The battle opened next morning early. Our army seemed to be unprepared for the attack, but the fighting was terrific. At the close of the day the enemy had recovered about what they lost the day before.

The Eighteenth had 20 killed and 80 wounded in this battle.

CORINTH/MOBILE/WARTRACE

January 12, 1905:

After the Battle of Shiloh the army spent the time at Corinth reorganizing and restoring order out of the confusion caused by the battle. In the reorganization Blount's Battalion was absorbed and the 18th received a new company, known as Company L and commanded by Capt. Bush Jones, not Bushrod Jones, as he is erroneously called by Gen. Wheeler in "Confederate Military History."

Capt. Jones was a Virginian, being related to that eminent Bush family in Virginia from which Gen. John W. Bush, of this city (Birmingham, Ala.), is from. Capt. Jones became Colonel of the 58th Alabama, and as senior colonel often commanded Holtzclaw's Brigade. We shall have occasion to refer to this gallant gentleman in those sketches again.

At about this time a number of officers dropped out. Col. Shorter left us for good, and a Col. Strawbridge was in command until Col. Holtzclaw recovered from his wound. Strawbridge must have been a man 55 years old or more. He impressed the boys as being exceedingly ill and crabbed, though courageous. We were glad to get rid of him.

Preparations were going on to vacate Corinth. The enemy had been too badly punished to push on in a hurry, hence we had considerable time to prepare for our departure. One thing we did to fool the Yankees. We got any number of small black-jack trees and put them on old wagon wheels, having blackened the ends so as to make them look like the ends of cannon. After everything was in readiness we started on the retreat to Saltillo and Tupelo, Miss.

The enemy followed, but only once did they make an assault. This was near a small village called Blackland. The 18th was in the rear when the enemy made a dash upon our rear guard. The 18th faced about and received the enemy with a volley which caused them to retreat in confusion, leaving three or four dead and wounded. No one was hurt in the 18th. For this act of gallantry the general ordered that Blackland be inscribed on our flag just under Shiloh. The 18th had the distinction of being the only infantry engaged in this spirited little battle.

Arrived at Saltillo further reorganization of the army took place. A number of line officers had disappeared, some had resigned, some had been killed, some had died of sickness. One company in the 18th did not have an officer left. That was Company G. Capt. Haughey had resigned, First Lt. Owen had died before the Battle of Shiloh. Lt. Thomas J. McAdory had died after Shiloh, Lt. McAlaster had resigned. So, Company G had to have a full list. The company elected Lt. H. T. Walker of Company E Capt., and Sergeants J. J. Godwin, Sr., and H. O. McAdory for Lieutenants. For some reason the third place was not filled.

While here Col. Holtzclaw returned and took command of the regiment. We were glad enough for we were heartily tired of Strawbridge. On the shake-up Capt. Inge, of Company E, was promoted to Lt. Col. and Capt. F. F. Hunly, of Company I, to Major.

About the first of July the 18th was detached from Bragg's army and sent to Mobile to become a part of the troops assigned to the defense of that city, Department of the Gulf, Gen. Maury commanding. Gen. Maury speaks of it as a fine body of men. The boys called it having a good time at Mobile.

For several months we formed the police force of the city. There seemed to be no civil police. We spent much time in drilling. The health of the men was good.

Here we were brigaded with the 38th and 36th Alabama. Co. L. was taken out of the 18th and put into and made a part of the 58th Alabama Regiment, which was also put into our brigade a little later on.

Just after the battle of Murfreesboro, December 31, 1862 and January 1-2, 1863, the 18th together with the other part of the brigade, was ordered to join Gen. Bragg at Bell-Buch and Wartrace, Tenn. Here Gen. H. D. Clayton took command as brigadier and A. P. Stewart as major general. While here we took part in a small engagement near Wartrace, but there were no casualties.

It was determined to fall back to Chattanooga. The retreat began in June and it was a month before the army was settled down at Tyner Station, out only a few miles east of Chattanooga. After a few weeks the enemy began to show signs of being on the offensive, and maneuvering began which resulted in one of the greatest battles of the war, that of Chickamauga.

CHICKAMAUGA

January 19, 1905:

The enemy, under command of Gen. Rosecrans, had advanced as far south as Chickamauga Creek, and had been encamped on its north bank for several days. Gen. Bragg resolved to attack, and Thursday, the 17th of September, issued a stirring battle order. We knew that the battle would be joined in a few hours.

Friday was spent by the Confederates in moving back toward Chickamauga creek, and taking position. Much skirmishing was done during the day. About dark the 18th came to the creek and was ordered to step in and wade across, which we did and bivouacked on the north bank. The weather became quite cold, and though the men were wet, they could not have fire on account of the nearness of the enemy.

Early on Saturday morning the battle opened far to our left. As the day advanced the firing became more terrific, and the more furious. Holtzclaw's Brigade, consisting of the 18th, 36th, 38th, and 58th Alabama Regiments, was in the reserve line until about 1 o'clock P.M. We were ordered to march by the left flank in a southerly direction for a mile or more. We halted, faced to the front and seemed to be ready for action. No enemy was in sight. Looking backward I saw an field officer turning up a bottle which I supposed contained whiskey, and I further thought he was trying to steady his nerve. I was not surprised when I learned afterward that his horse had fallen with him and disabled him to such an extent that he had to go to the rear.

Standing in line the firing began, seemingly without any command, and in three minutes the engagement was something awful. The slaughter was dreadful. We discovered that we were within perhaps fifty yards of the enemy's main line. Company G had fifteen men wounded in less than that many minutes. Col. R. F. Inge was shot and fell from his horse, and this writer having been shot and having crawled to a tree saw Col. Inge's horse go by riderless. Notwithstanding the galling fire that poured into our column, it swept on, driving the enemy in confusion. Darkness put an end to the conflict. The battle had raged all along that line, which stretched for seven or eight miles along "bloody creek" on either side. Chickamauga is said to be an Indian name meaning bloody.

Almost immediately after the battle opened the command of the 18th devolved on Maj. P. F. Hunly, Col. Holtzclaw having been hurt by a fall from his horse, and Lt. Col. Inge having been shot. Maj. Hunly bore himself well and bravely, as did Col. Inge.

My wound, being in the shoulder, it did not prevent me from walking. So I spent the night at a farm house a short distance from the main line in company with Lt. John R. Rockett, who had received a bullet through the leg.

Sunday morning, the 20th of September, there was a heavy frost, but the day was bright and beautiful. The great tragedy being enacted in the Chickamauga woods opened early, and furiously. Sitting back in the rear of the Confederate army on an eminence, we had a good opportunity to hear at least the grandeur and stupendousness of the awful carnage that was going on. The roll of musketry for miles up and down the creek seemed to be one solid, unbroken wave of awe-inspiring sound. And high above this mighty roar of small arms came the deafening, jarring, crashing sound of cannon. It seemed as if all the furies of earth and hell had been turned loose in one mighty effort to destroy each other.

Throughout the day there did not seem to be a lull in the awful strife. I wondered how my comrades fared; if my friends were being killed. Long before night I discovered that the Federals were being driven back on Chattanooga. Ever and anon I could hear the Confederate yell of victory and triumph. The strife was moving further and further away and I knew that the invaders were being driven back.

About the close of day it became almost a rout and, if Gen. Bragg had the nerve to push on in the darkness, Chattanooga would have been taken. In my judgement Bragg's weak point as a general lay in the fact that he would not follow up a victory. He planned well, maneuvered well and fought well, but he failed to follow up in his victories. It was afterward learned that, the Federal army was not attempting to make a stand at Chattanooga until after they found Bragg and halted by the way.

RESULTS AT CHICKAMAUGA

February 2, 1905:

In our last we said Holtzclaw's Brigade when we should have said Clayton's Brigade. We went into Holtzclaw's Brigade in January, 1864, when he was promoted. The casualties were 36 killed and 251 wounded.

Almost immediately after the battle opened the command of the regiment devolved on Lt. Col. R. F. Inge, who was shot through the knee and fell from his horse. He died the next day. His wound need not have proved fatal. Co. Inge was a brave, generous, kind-hearted man, and as an officer who sought to do his full duty to his men and his country. He was greatly loved by the men and officers, and his death was greatly deplored by the entire regiment.

The command went to Maj. P. F. Hunly, who bore himself like the brave soldier that he was. The following men were mentioned as being on the honor roll:

Sgt. T. J. Duritt Company E

Pvt. James Jones Company F

T. F. Hughton Company E

Cpl. J. B. Moore Company G was also color-bearer.

Moore was brother to P. P. Moore, of Bessemer, and George and James Moore, of McCalla, uncle of Walter Moore, of Birmingham. There was no braver or better soldier who ever gave up arms in defense of the South than J. B. Moore. He has been dead several years.

Beside Lt. Col. Inge the 18th lost in officers Capts. Justice, Hammond, and Stringer killed; Lts. Felder of Company H and Pollard of Company A killed; Harper Company A wounded; Capts. Wilkinson and Mickle were severely wounded. Capt. Henry C. Stone of Company K was severely wounded in the neck.

Capt. Stone was the father of our fellow-townsman, Mims B. Stone. Capt. Stone was a Methodist preacher, and was travelling what was then called the Jones Valley circuit in Jefferson County in 1861 when he gave up his work, returned to his home in Talladega County, volunteered and was elected a Lt. in Capt. Calhoun's Company, which became Company K in the 18th Alabama Infantry. He received another shot while in camp at Dalton through accident which disabled him from further service in the army. Returning home he married and took up the profession of teaching and in the course of three or four years he died. He was a brave, noble man, and had prospects of great usefulness to his country.

Lt. Riser of Company K, was also knocked down twice, but remained with his Company. Lt. Joseph F. Johnston of Company I, was also wounded. It is not necessary to say anything more about this young lieutenant other than that he has been twice governor of Alabama since that Chichamauga battle.

Lt. Hennington Owen McAdory, of Company G, was killed instantly on the field. He was the son of the late Thomas McAdory, of Jefferson County. He had that courage that prompted duty. I never saw him flinch under any circumstances. In addition to his bravery he was perhaps the best beloved officer in the regiment.

There was a long list of "honor roll" both among the officers and men in the 18th mentioned by the commanding officers.

The aggregate strength of the regiment on the 19th of September was 537; on the 20th it was 306. There were other losses making total loss in killed and wounded about two hundred fifty.

CHATTANOOGA

February 5, 1905:

I ought to mention a large number of officers and men who distinguished themselves for gallant conduct on the field at Chickamauga.

Capt. Orville A. Stringer, of Company B, was mortally wounded and died soon afterward. He was a most gallant soldier, as well as an elegant gentleman, and lovable man.

Capt. J. H. Hammond, of Company D, was also mortally wounded while bravely leading his men. Capt. Hammond was a Georgian and had not been long in Alabama. He was a civil engineer and a man of broad scholarship. He did not take to military life kindly, but there was no discounting his courage and patriotism.

I ought to mention in this connection Capt. Shepperd Ruffin, Lt. J. B. Darby of Company H; Lts. Stewart of Company E and Riser of Company K. These men were all noticeable for their courageous bearing during the battle.

Col. Woodruff, who commanded the Thirty-Sixth Alabama at Chickamauga, and Col. Lankford, who commanded the Thirty-Eighth Alabama, in making their reports to their superior officers of the battle, took occasion to mention the gallant bearing of the Eighteenth. Though it was not their special duty to report on the Eighteenth, they both placed a number of men and officers on the "honor roll" as follows:

Lt. Col. N. F. Inge

Capts. Justice Company A

Stringer Company B

Hammond Company D

Lts. Kidd Company D

S. K. Fielder Company H

All of these were killed on the field. They also mention others who were killed:

Pvt. J. M. Carpenter Company A

Cpl. J. M. Williams Company B

Pvt. J. P. Young

Sgt. R. A. Micara Company C

Sgt. R. A. Lambert Company D

Pvt. W. Howard Company C

Pvt. E. M. Smith Company F

Pvt. J. H. Gwin Company G

Sgt. J. F. Williamson Company H

Cpl. C. W. O'Hara Company I

Pvt. W. A. McCarty Company K

The list of honorable mention might be made much longer did not my plan for this history forbid.

Immediately after the battle of Chickamauga there was a campaign called Chattanooga-Ringgold campaign by Clayton's Brigade, in which there was two or three skirmishes, and four men of the Eighteenth were killed and 48 wounded. In this campaign Maj. Shep Ruffin was in command, Col. Hunly being off sick.

When Lt. Col. Inge was killed, Maj. P. F. Hunly was promoted to Lt. Col. and Capt. Ruffin to major.

The Army of Tennessee advanced on Chattanooga and took a position on Missionary Ridge and on Lookout Mountain. The position of the 18th was near the base of Lookout Mountain on the Chattanooga side. The siege, which lasted for more than six weeks, was in the main uneventful. But little fighting. Gen. Bragg seemed to be waiting until the Federals could be strengthened by reinforcements. I often wondered what Bragg's purpose was in waiting. He had no hope of reinforcements himself. It seems strange that he did not fall upon the enemy at once and crush him, as he could have done.

On November 23, the Federals opened the battle, mainly up the river east of the city and on our right. It extended on the 24th toward the mountain, where the "battle of the clouds" was fought. Late in the evening the Eighteenth was ordered to ascend the mountain, but came on the enemy hardly half way up, and a brisk fire was opened. One man was killed. Sgt. James Parsons was wounded. During the day considerable fighting took place on the mountain's side, in which our troops were above the clouds and in the sunshine, and the Yankees were hidden by clouds below and were almost constantly in the rain.

On the 25th the Federals made a general advance on our lines. For hours the battle raged furiously for miles. The Federals were time and again, repulsed but would reinforce and come again. There seemed to be no exhausting the supply of blue coats. The ground was literally strewn with the dead and wounded, but still they came on again.

The Confederates did not have more than one man to every three feet, and yet they held in check and repulsed an enemy coming three and four columns strong for hours, driving them back repeatedly. The valley was literally covered with the dead and dying.

The Eighteenth occupied a position on the line that was not engaged, and when the line gave way on our right the Eighteenth retreated somewhat hurriedly, because they remained too long and were almost cut off before they were aware of it.

In the stampede that followed a rather amusing thing occurred. Col. Holtzclaw, of the Eighteenth, who was senior colonel, was in command of the brigade. In the hurry his horse fell and the colonel was disabled. So he called to Col. Woodruff of the Thirty-Sixth, who was next in command, and turned the brigade over to him. Col. Woodruff became somewhat excited; so he called to Lt. Col. Hunly, of the Eighteenth. Said he: "Oh, Hunly, Hunly, help me here; help me here. Holtzclaw's left me in a hell of a fix." Lifting his voice high, he cried out: "One man halt, and they will all halt." In the meantime every fellow was doing his best to keep up with the colonel in getting to the rear.

The Eighteenth had a large number of men captured. Among them was Lt. E. B. Waldrop, of Company G., brother of Professor Judson Waldrop, of Howard College.

In a few days Bragg's army was settled down at Dalton, where it spent the winter.

DALTON

March 9, 1905:

The winter of 1863-64 was one of the severest in our memory. Most of the troops built log cabins in which to live and made themselves comparatively comfortable.

Soon after the army was in quarters Gen. Joseph E. Johnston relieved Gen. Bragg of the chief command. The entire army hailed his coming with great demonstrations of joy everywhere. The army had confidence in Joe Johnston, nor did it ever lose that confidence until the end.

The reorganization of the army was carried on persistently and earnestly. Recruits were received in all the regiments. Discipline was much more severe than ever before. A large number of men were shot for desertion.

The three years for which we had volunteered were about to expire. The leaders began to take steps to have the men re-enlist. Many were opposed to re-enlisting, at least until they had gone home. There did not seem to be any way to prevent a total breaking up of the army unless the men could be persuaded to re-enlist at once. Many men made speeches. J. L. M. Curry was brought into camp and made many addresses to the troops. Generals, brigadiers, colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants and privates talked and urged and begged. Many were slow to make up their minds.

Finally a night was appointed or named to make the test. It was to be done at roll call. Every man was told to step three paces to the front if he was willing to re-enlist at the command "March." I remember only a few moved forward at the word "March" in any Company. This was the condition throughout the army.

Another tack was resorted to. A day and an hour named, and the entire army was moved out on parade. In my brigade a barrel of mean whiskey was also moved out to the parade ground. New tin buckets and dippers were secured. The orators made speeches, and a detail was made to pass the bust-head whiskey. Every man was allowed to take the dipper and help himself. After the men had well drunken the color bearers were ordered twenty paces to the front and the men were told that if they were willing to re-enlist they were to move forward and form on the colors at the words "Forward March." Every field officer and everybody else who could were on the field. All of those who were known to be willing to re-enlist were instructed to dash forward at the command with a yell, all of which was carried out.

Gen. H. D. Clayton was in command of our brigade, and gave the command and it was taken up and repeated by every colonel and captain in a loud, enthusiastic voice and at the word "March" the men, half drunk many of them, plunged forward at double quick with a yell. When I looked back only three of the Eighteenth Regiment remained standing. After a few more yells and words of derision these also moved slowly forward and took their places in the line. We then marched back into our quarters, where the men whooped and yelled until the bad whiskey died out. So we had "volunteered for during the war."

Maj. Gen. Alexander Stewart, of Tennessee, was promoted to lieutenant general, Brigadier General H. D. Clayton to major general, and Col. James T. Holtzclaw to brigadier general, and put in command of Clayton's Brigade, and continued in command of it until the end of the struggle.

The Eighteenth had been brigaded first under Gen. Gladden, then a short time under Gen. J. K. Jackson, then at Mobile under Gen. Slaughter, then to Tennessee under Gen. Stewart, then Clayton and finally under Brig. Gen. Holtzclaw.

Gen. Holtzclaw was in the prime of life, and in personal appearance was handsome and commanding. In voice I never heard his superior. Everyone seemed to love to hear Gen. Holtzclaw give a command. His voice was clear and ringing. In appearance he was an ideal military man. He received what nearly proved to be a mortal wound at Shiloh. His bearing on that occasion up to the time of being wounded was most gallant indeed.

ROCKY FACE MOUNTAIN

March 16, 1905:

Sherman had succeeded Grant in command of the Federal forces at Chattanooga, and early in April he began what was afterwards called "Sherman's March to the Sea." The word infamous ought to be added before the word "March."

The Confederates were on the south of Rocky Face Mountain. The Federal forces moved out of Chattanooga close up to the north side of Rocky Face. This north side was tremendously precipitous for miles either way. The railroad gap was the only passage way through the mountain for some miles either way. The Confederates determined to defend this position. Our line of battle was along the brow of the mountain. The enemy had camped in the little valley along the north base of Rocky Face. The 18th was located on the crest of the mountain east of the railroad gap. This was perhaps the highest point anywhere along the range. The enemy was in plain view, camp and all, but our muskets could not reach them.

We determined to get a cannon up there somehow. We cleared out a way, secured ropes and after hours of toil, pulling and tugging at the gun we succeeded in landing it on the crest. The gunners gathered around and soon had the gun ready for action. Then the fun began. The enemy was completely surprised, and at the first shot there was tremendous commotion. "There was hurrying to and fro," as Lord Byron has said of another occasion. Tents were thrown down, teams were gotten in motion and men and officers could be seen running back into the far distance. At the same time we had exchanged our muskets for Springfield rifles, and with these we could also reach the fleeing Yankees. It was great fun to see them scamper.

But in a few minutes we, too, were surprised. The enemy trained a gun on our location and the shots were surprisingly accurate. We had only to drop down behind the brow of the mountain to be out of danger, but it seemed that they could skim the top of the mountain with the greatest exactness. This condition of things lasted for some time. Our position was a strong one, and almost impregnable.

During these days a detachment of Federal cavalry crossed the mountain several miles east and came down on our camp while we were a half mile away defending the gap. Holtzclaw's Brigade was sent to repel them, except the 18th, which was left to hold the gap. The 36th, 38th and 58th Alabama were commanded respectfully by Cols. Woodruff, Langford and Bush Jones. Gen. Hindman, who was commanding the Division at the time, complimented these regiments next day in a general order for gallant conduct on this occasion. The 18th lost in these several skirmishes seven men killed.

One incident I saw impressed me much with Gen. Johnston's steady nerve. We were at the base of the mountain on the south and the enemy on the north side. Gen Johnston was sitting on his horse with hundreds of troops near by when a Yankee shell came over the mountain and seemingly passed close above us, and with great fuss. Gen. Johnston was in the range of my vision, as were many others. The General was the only man that I saw that did not "dodge." I don't think he ever batted his eyes. I never was able to understand how he could have such perfect self control. From the noise of the thing each man thought it was going to hit himself. There was one other person that did not "dodge." That was a French woman who was the wife of a soldier. She was walking along near me and when the awful sound passed over she did not give the least sign of having heard it.

Soon Sherman began his flanking movement and we were forced to move toward Resaca.

RESACA

March 23, 1905:

About the 7th of May, the enemy became very active, but seeing he could not dislodge the Confederates from their position along Rocky Face Mountain began a flank movement with the purpose of reaching the railroad behind us, or forcing us to fall back. Gen. Johnston left his position, I think, about the 17th of May. We were maneuvering and moving for several days. Thomas' Corps of Sherman's army had descended from Lookout Mountain into McLemore's Cove intending to turn our left. Johnston, perceiving this, sent A. P. Stewart's Corps to cut him off.

There appeared to be a race, for the Eighteenth was on a dead run for several miles. I remember to have tried to make an estimate of the distance covered, and I put it at six miles. For the first mile or so we were hotly engaged in a skirmish, but soon the enemy gave way an it was a race for the foot of Lookout Mountain, where the road left the cove and led up the mountain. We crossed a creek of a good size by plunging in waist deep. It was dark when we reached the base of the mountain and the rear of Thomas' Corps had barely passed up the road. We distinctly heard the racket and confusion incident to getting the artillery and wagons up the mountain. Had we been an hour sooner we would have routed Thomas' Corps and destroyed it.

In the beginning of this run its chronicler picked up a good Yankee knapsack, which he carried the remainder of the war.

We then turned to retrace our steps out of the cove. We were on our feet all night long. It seems now, as I recall the night and what occurred that it was the most fatiguing I ever spent. There was a mountain to climb, not so very large, but very steep for a road. The horses could not pull the guns and wagons over it, so the men were used instead. I recall that I was one of a team of forty men put to a wagon to pull it up the hill. The quartermasters and wagonmasters talked to us as if we had been horses sure enough. I was surprised to see the ease with which forty men could walk up the steep hill with a heavy wagon. I remember how an old colonel of artillery did curse. It was a sight to listen and look. It took the entire night and next day. Just at night the last vehicle started down the other side of the hill. This was the only time the Eighteenth ever played horses and mules that I recall.

This campaign in McLemore's Cove, while it lasted about thirty hours and was devoid of much fighting, yet it was a fatiguing one. No sleep, no rest, not much food, for the raid was unexpected and we were not prepared with rations. By the time we got back out of the cove the main army of the enemy had moved down from Dalton and were confronting us just north of Oostanaula River.

It was plain that Johnston intended to fight rather than cross the

river without a struggle. There was more or less hard fighting Friday and Saturday, the 13th and 14th of May, as well as fighting on the days previous to those two days.

We threw up temporary works made of logs, chunks of rock or anything that would shield us from bullets.

Sunday morning the fighting on our left was severe and more extensive. There was a bend in our line of works near where the line crossed the railroad, and the Eighteenth was just on the right of the angle or apex.

About 3 o'clock we were ordered over the works and to move forward so as to straighten the line. This threw us into a rough undergrowth. We had not gone far before we were aware of the enemy's presence. I heard the command, "Forward!", and moved in the direction indicated. There was some little confusion in our ranks. I did not see a field officer, though they might have been hidden by the dense growth.

I found myself standing by a large oak tree with J. P. Willoughby, who is now head of the land department of the L. & N. Railroad in Birmingham.

Mr. I. A. Brown was also near, and the balls were flying thick.

RESACA TO KENNESAW

March 30, 1905:

The fighting on the afternoon of the 15th of May continued until late, when Holtzclaw's Brigade was ordered to charge the enemy, which it did with great gallantry. They were repulsed, however, with very heavy loss. The 18th Regiment lost heavily in killed and wounded. The brigade lost 300.

The enemy did not pursue us, so we halted and formed a line, holding this position until about midnight, when the retreat across the Oostanula River began. There were two crossings, the railroad bridge and a pontoon which had been thrown across the river. This was the real beginning of the one hundred day's fight, for that is what it was, fighting for a hundred days, never missing a day.

It was near daylight when the regiment reached the south bank of the Oostanula, moving on until 8 o'clock before resting. I quote from a diary written and presented by Mr. John P. Willoughby. He says after resting we took our merry march through dust and sunshine toward Atlanta. Considerable fighting was done during the day in holding the enemy in check. On the 17th day of May the retreating Confederates reached Adairsville, Ga., where they made a stand, throwing up breast works. The enemy came up with our rear guard and after a short fight were repulsed.

About 11 o'clock at night the army was again put in motion, and the night of the 18th in rain, mud and darkness moved south again. Skirmishing was constantly going on in our rear, the enemy's cavalry keeping close up with us.

Near night on the 19th we formed line and threw up works near the town of Cassville, Ga. Nearly all of Company C of the 18th was captured on the afternoon of the 19th near this town while they were on picket duty.

Company G was on picket duty during the night, and the morning of the 20th when they started to join the regiment they found that the regiment had gone with the army in full retreat. So there was a forced march until they overtook the regiment. Five of the boys gave out and were picked up the by the enemy. The next halt was at Etowah River, but only for a few hours. About sundown the 18th crossed the river and ascended a steep hill.

On the 21st and 22nd we rested; drew some tobacco from the government and the boys took a "chew." On the 24th we abandoned the Etowah River position and resumed our march south.

On the 25th only a short march was taken, halted about noon, the enemy being some distance to the rear, but soon they appeared and charged our position, and the fight lasted until dark. We held our position and the enemy was repulsed. Company G had one man killed and fourteen wounded. The enemy lost very heavily.

Next day the enemy contented themselves with shelling us almost continually tearing away the trees and timbers, but not hurting any men in the 18th.

Heavy fighting occurred on our right. The fighting that occurred on the 29th and 30th is known as the battle of New Hope Church.

On the night of the 4th of June the 18th, with the brigade, moved up on Lost Mountain. The night was fearfully dark and muddy, and when day light came it was discovered that not more than half the brigade had kept up.

On the 7th our army moved some six miles and took up position on Kennesaw Mountain. The fighting continued in the neighborhood of Kennesaw until July 2nd, with varying results. Many times the enemy were repulsed with terrible loss.

Seeing he could never drive Johnston from the Kennesaw Mountain he again resorted to his tactics of flanking him, and thus forced him off his position at Kennesaw.



KENNESAW TO ATLANTA

April 6, 1905:

After leaving Kennesaw Mountain, Johnston retreated south toward the Chattahoochee River, halting several times and throwing up breastworks so as to hold the enemy in check. The enemy kept up a vigorous pursuit, never for an hour relaxing his energies.

At the dead and silent hours of night we would leave our works in silence and march away, only to halt, again the next day and build other works and await the enemy's flank movements.

Sherman's numbers were so much greater than Johnston's that it was impossible for Johnston to prevent those flank movements. The enemy would flank us on both wings, and not having troops enough to cover these movements, there was nothing for us to do but fall back and take a new position.

Gen. Sherman never a single time drove Johnston back by a front attack, always being repulsed. The truth is the Confederates always could whip the Federals three and four to one when they got a chance at them.

About the 5th of July Gen. Johnston took up a position on the north bank of the Chattahoochee River. Strong fortifications were thrown up and a fort was built for eight guns. Shelling, skirmishing and slight engagements were going on continually.

After crossing the Chattahoochee the Eighteenth, with others, took up a position on the south bank, so as to hold the enemy in check and prevent him from crossing as long as possible. On the morning of the 12th of July our command abandoned the river position, went south a few miles and took up a position in front of Atlanta.

During these series of retreats many men became discouraged and thought all was lost. Especially was this so with the north Georgians, who saw their homes left to the enemy. Many of these men apparently dropped out of ranks in the darkness, and doubtless on purpose.

The most remarkable thing about the whole campaign was the perfect confidence the entire army retained in the skill and ability of Gen. Joseph E. Johnston up to the very last.

The War Department has been severely criticized for displacing Johnston with Gen. Hood, but when we come to look at the situation as it was the criticisms were unjust. The situation was desperate; something must be done. This falling back movement could not go on forever. It might have been best, but still the situation demanded something to be done, something different, than to put Hood in command might have been better. Nobody knows. At any rate, the army was greatly displeased with Gen. Hood and much attached to Gen. Johnston.

As soon as Hood was in command it was apparent that he would be on the offensive. He was of an aggressive nature. He seems to have determined to attack the enemy, and the battle of Peachtree Creek followed on the 20th of July.

The Eighteenth Regiment was in this desperate engagement for many hours. The loss in killed and wounded was very heavy, the regiment being cut to pieces. Many of the noblest of the army were killed in the Peachtree Creek battle. It proved to be useless, a terrible slaughter in vain, for nothing was accomplished.

The battle of Atlanta on the 22nd of July followed quickly. This, too, was a terrible slaughter, the Yankees losing heavily, as well as the Confederates. The Eighteenth again lost heavily.

Hood's two assaults on the enemy's positions had been repulsed with great loss to the Southerners. He dropped back nearer Atlanta and took up a position for its defense.

In these several battles the Eighteenth Regiment was mentioned for its gallantry and brave bearing by Lt. Gen. H. D. Clayton. Col. Bush of the Fifty-Eighth Alabama Regiment, also mentioned the gallant conduct of the Eighteenth, as did Col. P. F. Hunly.

ATLANTA TO JONESBORO

April 20, 1905:

The campaign from Dalton to Atlanta was a costly one to the 18th both in men and officers.

Among the number was Maj. Sheppard Ruffin. This gallant officer was a captain at one time of Company H and was promoted to major after the death of Col. Inge and the promotion of Col. Holtzclaw to brigadier general. Maj. Ruffin was one of the bravest men I think that I came in contact with during the four years that I saw service. His bravery amounted to recklessness. I really think he enjoyed fighting. He seemed thrilled when a fight was pending, or like a boy preparing for a journey to town. I have known him again and again to volunteer to take dangerous positions when there was no obligation resting on him to do so. He seemed to love to be on the firing line. He delighted to be in command of the picket line, and he never missed an opportunity to bring on a fight if he could.

I remember one incident. He was commanding the picket line and was ordered to "feel" of the enemy as it was called. He deployed his men and ordered a forward movement. We had not gone far when it was observed that we were not supported by any reserve line, and one of the sergeants ventured to call Maj. Ruffin's attention to it. The major had a voice that was shrill and fine as a ten-year old girl, and when the sergeant said, "Major, we are not supported," the major replied in a high key: "Support hell and damnation. Support yourself. Forward, I say!" And forward we went, and soon uncovered the enemy in full force.

Major Ruffin would have fought the whole Yankee army if he had been allowed to do so. Some field officer was required on the picket at all times, and Maj. Ruffin would often ask permission to take the place of some other field officer. He was finally killed on the picket line. He was not a popular officer. He was too crabbed to be loved, but no man doubted his courage.

Capt. J. M. McLaughlin, of Company C., was promoted to major after the death of Maj. Ruffin. Maj. McLaughlin was from that section known as upper Cahaba Valley, now the Leeds country. He served as major of the regiment until the close. He was brave, kind-hearted, thoughtful of his men, always doing his duty courageously. He studied medicine after the war and has spent his life at Springville, Ala., where he now lives.

About August 28th Sherman began another flank movement on Hood's army. The movement forced the Confederates to evacuate Atlanta. This was a severe blow to the Confederacy. Atlanta was the gateway from the far south to Richmond. It was cutting the Confederacy in two.

By slow stages we moved toward the south again. We moved as if in line of battle by the left flank, and kept in fighting position all the time. Day and night we moved as the enemy moved trying to prevent him from getting into our rear. On the 31st of August we reached a position near Jonesboro, Ga., some 16 miles south of Atlanta.

Hood prepared to give the enemy battle. I remember that Stephen D. Lee, in whose corps we were then, made an address to our troops in which he said "If this flanking was not checked we would be flanked into the sea." Hood rushed his men in the front of Sherman and on the 31st of August the battle of Jonesboro was fought.

JONESBORO

April 27, 1905:

It was evident in the early part of the 31st of August that a battle was on. We could hear the roar of arms on other parts of the field. Holtzclaw's Brigade, to which the 18th was attached, was moved to two or three different parts of the line before we finally became engaged. It was here we heard Stephen D. Lee make a speech exhorting the men to deeds of valor. General H. D. Clayton was still in command of our division. There was no more intrepid or daring officer than General Clayton. Col. Bush Jones, of the 58th Alabama Regiment, was in command of the Brigade. Gen. Holtzclaw being absent from some cause.

It was in the afternoon before we were ordered into the fight. We were ordered to charge across an old field at double quick. There were a few scattered pine saplings. The enemy had built breast-works on the crest of a low hill, or rather it was hardly a hill, but higher ground than that we charged over. They had taken rails and by putting two ends together after the manner of building a fence, with the other ends on the ground, and thus made picket posts about thirty yards in front of their main line. We charged this line of pickets, took the rail piles and halted, using the rails as protection. In this position we fought for some time.

Company G (to which I belonged) was color company at this time, and the color guard was just to the left of my position. I saw in a few minutes the color bearer fall to the ground shot. I think dead. His name has passed out of my mind, nor have I been able to find any one who could tell me. As he fell, J. C. Roberts, of Company G, caught the flag before it struck the ground and handed it to one of the color guards. In less than a minute, perhaps, that one was also shot, and fell. Mr. Roberts again caught the flag before it reached the ground and a second time saved the colors of the regiment from falling into the dust. We had remained here for some time under a galling fire from the enemy, which was in good works, and not more than thirty yards from us. We were in the open field with only the rails for protection.

One of the most daring things that I saw during the war was performed by Col. Bush Jones. I was loading and firing rapidly as possible. I heard some one talking to the men, encouraging them. I looked back and Col. Jones was riding along the line on his horse talking as coolly and calmly as if there was no battle going on. I think he rode the entire length of the brigade and then back. There seemed to be a perfect hail of bullets around him, but he was not hurt. There was absolutely nothing intervening between him and the enemy. I though maybe they did not try to kill him, and he certainly showed no sign of fear. Col. Bush Jones remained in command of the 58th Alabama Regiment to the end.

We knew him as lieutenant, as a captain and a colonel commanding a brigade. He was young and handsome. He married Miss Evans, of Mobile, who is a sister of the noted author, Mrs. Augusta Jane Evans Wilson. Col. Jones settled in Marion after the close of the hostilities. He took an active part in opposing the negroizing of the state. He was elected probate judge of Perry County. He died only a few years after peace came, and thus one of the most brilliant men of the state was cut-off by death.

He was a Virginian and came to Alabama only a short time before the war began. He was the son of a sister of Col. John W. Bush, of Birmingham. In a history of the war by Gen. Wheeler he is erroneously called Bushrod Jones.

Just as Col. Jones passed back I heard the command to retreat. It was sudden and I for one was not expecting it. I would use my ram-rod to drive down a load and drop my ram-rod on the ground, fire and re-load, and while my ram-rod lay on the ground the command to retreat was given and I left my ram-rod; never thought of it until we had gotten clear out of reach of the enemy. The retreat was very dangerous indeed, and a number of men were shot. There was a deep gully just to the rear of us where we stopped and fought, and it was said that a number of men and officers took refuge in it. I was not an eye-witness to it.

As we were on this retreat S. H. Huey, now living down the valley, was shot, and some of the boys carried him out astride their backs. As dangerous as was our position it afforded much amusement to see a short-legged man carrying a long-legged man like Sol Huey is. We lost quite a number of men in killed and a number wounded.

John Smithson was lost here, and it was thought by many that he was captured, but Mr. W. E. Ross, of Bessemer, tells me that he saw him dead on the field as he retreated.

When the battle was over Col. Hunly sent for Mr. J. C. Roberts and said to him: "I witnessed your gallant conduct in preventing the flag of the 18th from falling to the ground. I think you are the man who has a right to carry it." He was therefore commissioned ensign with rank of lieutenant and carried the flag until the close of the struggle. He moved to Eutaw, Ala., where he now lives, and is a much interested reader of these sketches. He is an uncle of the Terrells, of Earle & Terrell Co., of Birmingham. He was a brave soldier, never flinching from duty.

JONESBORO TO DALTON

May 4, 1905:

The fighting at Jonesboro was not a victory. Sherman, it seems, had made up his mind to reach the sea, whether Hood went in his front or went to his rear. When the fighting ceased he immediately started on a flank movement again. We suppose Gen. Hood saw it would only be a repetition of what had been doing from Dalton to Jonesboro. It seems to have been his purpose to get in the Federal's rear, and thus cause him to fall back by cutting off his supplies.

Sherman discovered that with the supplies he had that he could reach the coast by foraging on the country, and thus make the trip in safety. The Confederates getting out of his front only opened the way for a rapid movement to Savannah. So, instead of turning back to head off the Confederates, he pushed on straight ahead. This evidently was a great surprise to Gen. Hood, for he evidently thought Sherman would follow him back toward the north.

Gen. Hood lingered in the vicinity of Jonesboro, a few miles to the west near Palmetto, for some time. Jonesboro was fought on the 31st of August, and Hood did not cross the Chattahoochee River until about the 30th of September. He then pushed on north, the Eighteenth passing through Villa Rica, Buchanan and other villages in Georgia. My impression is that a part of the army kept close to and on the railroad, so as to keep it torn up. Nothing of importance took place on this march.

We reached a point not far from Kingston, Ga., one afternoon. The Oostanaula River lay along close to our right. The Eighteenth was detached from the brigade and ordered to cross the river and strike the railroad at Calhoun, Ga., and tear up the track. We crossed the river in pontoon boats, made a forced march of about seven miles, took the town with resistance, tore up the track for a considerable distance, loaded ourselves with everything we could carry and made a hasty retreat.

The Yankees had left the town at our approach, and did not show themselves. The depot building was supplied with everything that a soldier would want. Many citizens helped us to load up. There were all sorts of groceries. Many of the boys overloaded themselves and had to unload before they got far. I remember one fellow, I think it was Ben Cox, had a leather belt, very thick and six or eight inches wide and forty feet long. It was fine for half-soles, but quite heavy, and got more so as we went at a half double-quick. He soon offered to divide up. So several of the boys cut off a piece for a pair of soles. Meat, flour, sugar, coffee, and in fact, everything you can imagine, was scattered along the march.

Long after night we reached and recrossed the river and bivouacked, the tiredest lot you ever saw. I noticed that our boys had some things to trade on next day.

The longest march we ever had in one day occurred along here. I was told that we made thirty-two miles just before reaching Resaca. We struck the railroad again near Resaca, and followed it pretty much all the way up to Dalton. On this trip we were short on rations. We followed the railroad to Dalton, where we had spent the winter, and had left it in May. It was now September.

Reaching Dalton, our regiment was again sent into town. We found it garrisoned by negroes. They surrendered without a struggle. I think there were about 700 of these sable soldiers. It was a very exciting scene when these negroes came marching out. The boys were anxious to massacre these fellows, and the officers had a hard time to keep the men from falling on them. The negroes were greatly excited and alarmed. The officers commanding these negroes looked ashamed of it. These negroes were all slaves as far as I could ascertain. After disposing of these fellows we turned our faces to Alabama.

ENROUTE TO GADSDEN

May 18, 1905:

Gen. Hood, when he found that Sherman would not turn about and follow him, seems to have determined to penetrate into Tennessee. He could not pass through Chattanooga, as it was strongly fortified, so the only route open to him was across northern Alabama. He turned from north Georgia toward Gadsden, Ala.

Gadsden was unknown, but soon it was learned that it was the next town in the line of march. Though nothing but a village it soon became famous, as the name was on every soldier's lips. "How far is it to Gadsden?" was asked I have no doubt fifty thousand times. We passed Summersville, Ga., near Gaylesville, Ala., and camped near a small body of water called "Blue Pond," in Cherokee Co.

I will relate a bit of personal experience I had just along here. I had an aged sister living on the opposite side of the river from which we were marching. I applied to the officers for a pass for 24 hours that I might cross the river and make her a visit. I was ordered to carry my gun and cartridges with me, but left my blanket with my comrades.

I left the regiment at the fork of the road, the army moving on towards Gadsden, where it was understood they were to remain three or four days. I took the road leading to Garrett's Ferry. After a three miles walk I reached the west bank of the Coosa. Not a boat or canoe was to be seen. I hallowed and then I hollered, then I yelled, I helloed, but nothing came of it.

Presently a squad of Confederate cavalry came in sight and I was informed that all the boats and bateaux had been turned loose by military orders and that the Yankees were coming right along behind, and look out. I turned down the river and kept close to the bank, amidst swamps, marshes, vines, briars, serpents, toads, hooting owls and other difficulties, all the time I was straining my eyes for some means of crossing to the other bank. Night was approaching and darkness was appearing in the dense forest.

I began to feel exceedingly lonesome, when I heard a great racket, noise and confusion ahead. Approaching cautiously I discovered they were Confederates and citizens who were fleeing from the enemy. They had only a small boat capable of carrying one wagon and team and a few foot people at a trip. I was told by the military man in charge that I could not cross until the women and children and government stuff was over.

So I stood still and said nothing for a little while, and as the boat was about to push off I stepped aboard unobserved by the colonel. I soon found out that I had landed below the mouth of the Big Terrapin Creek, and in order to get to Centre to see my relative I would have to travel sixteen miles around, whereas I had been in two miles of it when at Garrett's Ferry.

Night had closed in on me with frosty weather and nothing to eat and no blanket. Having expected to reach my kinswoman, I had provided neither blanket nor bread. The first house I reached I was kindly taken in and cared for. Next morning when I got breakfast I had only about nine hours of absence left and was twenty miles from where I wanted to go and nearly that far from my command. So I knew it would require me to make good time to reach my command by the time my furlough expired. So I gave up my visit and turned toward Gadsden.

The road was more or less full of soldiers and other people rushing along from the enemy. It seemed that I became fagged out quicker marching by myself that with the army.

Late in the afternoon I reached Gadsden, crossing in a boat to the Gadsden side, hungry and tired. Meeting an officer I made inquiry and was told that the army had only halted for the night and then marched on in the direction of Sand Mountain.

So I was a day behind, with no papers, no rations nor blanket. The quartermaster's department had a small amount of rations here, so I applied for food. I was informed that I could get a quart of corn meal and nothing more. I took that and falling in with some others who, like myself was behind and without food, we started in the track of the army. We camped where the army had camped the night before.

ACROSS SAND MOUNTAIN

May 25, 1905:

The night was quite cool and frosty. The crowd with whom I had fallen in like myself were without rations or blankets. It was necessary that we should make some arrangements for the night and for something to eat. We approached an old gentleman who had a large "kitchen" standing in the yard and asked him to let us sleep by the fire during the night. He courteously refused, but pointed out an old cotton house in the distance that we could occupy. So we took possession. I was the only one in the crowd who had a gun. There was an Irishman in the party, which numbered about six.

In the night some one waked up and said he heard hogs outside. Soon the entire party was astir. A light was made and also a proposition to kill some meat. I was told that if I would allow them to use my gun in executing the death sentence upon the hog that I should be supplied with fresh meat without further trouble. I said don't waste my cartridges. The gun fired and the hog was brought in, hung up and the skinning process began.

The Irishman was placed to guard the door. Directly, the Irishman said: "Boys, the ole mon is cummin'." And then the "ole mon" said: "Is that the way you do a poor old man? Let me in." We turned him in; he demanded pay. I was the only man who had a cent, and I only had three dollars in Georgia script. He said that was not good. So he tore off saying, he would have us arrested.

By this time the skinning had been done, and as we had a good way to go, we decided to have some breakfast. So we halted, made a fire and began to cook. Somebody had found and old "skillet." This we used to bake our meal into bread and to cook our pork. We had procured some salt, and so we had a fairly good breakfast.

We took up our weary march to overtake the army. There were several hundred men who had been shipped to Blue Mountain, a place near where Anniston is now, it being the terminus then of what was called Alabama and Tennessee Rivers Railroad, later the Selma-Rome and Dalton Railroad, now the Southern.

These men had expected, like myself, to join their commands at Gadsden, but missed connections, and were without rations. They must have bread and meat. They had only a little meal and that was all.

My gun was in great demand. I had sixty rounds of cartridges. Every comrade was sorry for me and wanted to "tote" my gun for me. I don't know how many sheep and hogs and yearlings that gun did kill, but it was firing all day long. The country through which we passed is called Sand Mountain, and very sparsely settled.

The next night we spent near a small village called Walnut Grove. Another frost was on hand, and I had no covering. I applied at a house on the roadside and was refused. I must do something, so I engaged the old lady in conversation, trying to get into her favor. I mentioned the section I was from and she at once brightened up and said our preacher is from there. "Who is he?", said I. "Brother Hood." "I know him well. We are like brothers." "Well, well, and you know Brother Hood!" "Oh, yes." "Well, if you know Brother Hood you can stay all night, for I know you must be a good man. There is nobody here but women folk, but you can stay."

The Brother Hood referred to is the Rev. A. Hood, now pastor of the Methodist Church in Abbeville, Ala., and brother to Mr. William Hood, of Birmingham. I got a good supper and a bed and breakfast because I was acquainted with a good man.

Next morning we took up our march to overtake, if possible, our command by night. Plenty of men were willing and anxious to carry my gun and ammunition for their use during the day. We passed through a cross-roads called Brookville, another called Summit. Near camping time I came up with my regiment, where they had halted to rest.

In a few minutes General Beauregard came along with his staff and the soldiers began to hallow "bread" in a thousand and more voices and oft-repeated. The General reined up his horse and faced the men and began a speech in which he, with great feeling, told the men that they were insulting their general about a matter over which he had no control. Before he had finished the men felt that they ought to apologize for their rudeness. That night the army camped on the northern brow of Sand Mountain, just entering Cotaco Creek Valley in northern Morgan County.

The boys told me of rather an amusing trick they played on an old well-to-do farmer. They told him that the General had sent them to guard his "stuff" to keep the soldiers from robbing him. He received them gladly and joyfully, gave them all a good supper, fixed them a nice place to sleep in the house, stationed about two of them out about the potatoes hill and bee gums, and went to bed. The boys informed him they would have to leave some time before day, but would not disturb him, that they must reach camp before the army moved.

While he slept the guard had taken the bee gums, potato, chickens and some meat from the smoke house and gone. The old gentleman took in the situation when he arose and came hurrying to camp. The general told him to point out the men and they would be punished. This he could not do. As we marched away the old man stood looking as if he could never again trust a soldier.

DOWN THE TENNESSEE VALLEY TO FLORENCE

June 1, 1905:

I witnessed another very amusing incident as we crossed the mountain. Gen. Gibson's Brigade of Louisiana was in our (Clayton's) Division. There was a Col. Jackson commanding one of the regiments in this brigade. This brigade was composed largely of French.

Col. Jackson had a sort of lackey who was attending to the colonel's horses. He would forage for the colonel along through the day. Others foraged also. One man out of each file was allowed to fall out of ranks and go on an expedition for rations.

It came my turn. I fell in with Pete Aaron, a member of my own company. We got ahead and stopped at a house and ordered some biscuits cooked. While waiting Col. Jackson's lackey came up and came in and asked if he could get some bread. He was told that he could when the orders already in were filled. The lady took the lid off the big oven, took up about a dozen large, fat biscuits, which Aaron had ordered.

The lackey said: "Why can't I have these?" The lady said, "Those belong to that gentleman there." The lackey said, "I want them for the colonel", and began to appropriate them. Aaron said, "You let them alone." Lackey said, "I want them for the colonel", and began to put them into his sack. Aaron made a dive at him and down he went and on him Aaron went, pounding and gouging him, and perhaps biting him. Just at this moment the 18th came marching along just in time to witness the fisticuff.

I never heard such yells and screams. Among other things the lackey said: "Take him off! Take him off! He's biting me; he's biting me like a damn wild hog; take him off! Oh! Oh! Let me up." I stood back and enjoyed the fun. Some one gave Aaron a pull and he let the Frenchman up, and the way he did get was a sight. I don't think the woman could have given him a biscuit if she had tried. From that time on whenever the lackey would appear anywhere in sight of the Eighteenth, the whole regiment would yell: "Take him off!; He's biting me like one damn wild hog."

Another incident occurred that illustrates camp life. It was the quartermaster's business to assign the army its camping ground. The quartermaster of each corps and each division and each brigade and each regiment would assign their respective commands to their respective grounds. It happened one evening that Gen. Stovall's Brigade of Georgians got on the camping ground that had been assigned to Holtzclaw's Brigade. Being in front that day they had reached the camp, stacked arms, seized a string of fence and made a fire quickly.

When the quartermaster of the division saw the situation he ordered Gen. Stovall to move, which he curtly refused to do. The matter was referred back on up to higher officers. There was much loud talk and some prospect of bloodshed. But in the end Stovall's men had to move. When they were ordered to move they made the elements blue with cursing somebody. Every man grabbed a load of burning rails. The rails being dry burned brightly, it now being dark. Three or four thousand men moving with torches made a sight that one does not often see in a lifetime. Holtzclaw's Brigade had a good deal of fire left with which to start the evening meal.

The army in its route passed down the famous Cotaco Creek Valley through old Somerville, the then county seat of Morgan County, and on in the direction of Decatur, which was being occupied by the enemy.

Hood attacked Decatur and the Yankees vacated and crossed to the north bank of the Tennessee River. Gen. Hood then proceeded leisurely down the great Tennessee Valley toward Florence, passing through the several small towns of Trinity, Hillsboro, Courtland, Town Creek (then Jonesboro), Leighton and Tuscumbia, camping on and near the site where Sheffield now is.

FLORENCE

June 8, 1905:

When we arrived on the south bank of the Tennessee River opposite the beautiful town of Florence, we found the Yankees in possession. The railroad bridge had been burned; the rock pillars only remained. Cannon was placed on the hill and the town was more or less shelled, though it was my impression that care was taken not to hurt the city or its people unless the Yankees got in the way.

While the shelling was going on infantry was being put across in pontoon boats, and a pontoon bridge was being thrown across also. There were at that time brick warehouses on the river's bank, and under cover of the artillery, and protected by the brick walls on the bank, the Eighteenth was the first to be put across. It was nearly dark, or quite so, and we used torches in the boats on the river. This made a beautiful and spectacular scene.

I remember a Frenchman who seemed to be an artist, sat on the embankment and drew a pencil sketch of the crossing as it appeared after dark. I remember looking at the picture and hearing a colonel offer the artist $100 for it. That picture, if it could be found, would be highly prized at this time. We had no trouble running the Yankees out of the town. We, that is the Eighteenth, lay under the shadow of the warehouse walls that night.

Next day, the pontoon bridge being completed, the army began to transfer itself to the north side of the Tennessee River. But in the day some time I remember the Eighteenth marched up Court Street through the town, and went into camp just north of the city. We threw up breastworks and began preparations for the march into Tennessee. This we know must have been a herculean task for the officers having the matter in charge.

The army had been on the march for three months, and rations, clothes an shoes were nearly all exhausted and the winter was on us, and these things must be supplied, though the country was badly exhausted in all these necessary things.

Our rations were short, and had been for weeks. This scribe had as well as others been reduced to the necessity of eating parched corn until his jaws were really weary from much chewing.

An illustration of how hard we were pressed, we actually tried to eat turnip-greens without salt or grease, and another time we tried to eat fresh pork without salt, and this, too, while being at Florence in camp. It was only a foreshadowing of what was to come when we got on the move further from our base of supplies. Many of the men were without shoes, hats, coats or pants except in tatters torn. And yet with all these things to contend with the men were in good spirits. We remained here for about three weeks, is my recollection.

Once or twice we were considerably excited by reports of the Yankee fleet coming up the river, but no serious trouble came of it. The men spent a good deal of time in going through the country four or five miles from camp hunting something to eat. This practice came to be so notorious and annoying to the citizens that a patrol was sent out each day to prevent it, and with orders to arrest and bring in all men outside of camp without a pass.

I remember (this writer being a non-commissioned officer) I was sent out with five men as patrol, and in our wanderings we came to a stately brick mansion, where we called and asked for dinner, which we were politely told we could get when it was cooked. The old gentleman told us that he had fed nearly 500 that day. Soon we were seated at the table and had a bountiful dinner.

Our host proved to be Robert M. Patton, afterwards governor of Alabama. He refused pay for our dinner. The Federals had carried off all his slaves, mules, cows, hogs, corn, wheat, and everything else they could lay their hands on lying about loose. Two old negroes had elected to stay, all the rest having gone.

The Federals had left desolation behind them everywhere. The only hope for us was that when we got further from the border line dividing the two armies that things would be more plentiful. I understood that Gen. Hood waited for a wagon train that never came. There was no possible chance for supplies to reach us by rail or river, for the enemy was in possession of both ends of both. To bring supplies across the mountains of north Alabama was tremendous task, so Hood finally determined to do as Gen. Sherman was doing in Georgia --live off the country as he went along.

This, however, was utterly impracticable as to shoes and clothes. One remarkable thing was that the army had such good health. I hardly remember that a single man got sick on all this long march of four months or more. The men had become inured to exposure and hence they remained healthy.

NORTH FROM FLORENCE

June 15, 1905:

It was about the 15th of November when Hood broke camp at Florence and began the march for Nashville.

The 18th followed the Wayland Springs Road. The country was poor and sort of barren for several miles. We passed near Lawrenceburg, Tenn. From this point on just past Mount Pleasant the country became much more fertile in appearance. I was fortunate enough to get a new pair of shoes at Florence and had gotten some clothes from home so was in pretty good condition for the campaign, but many of the men were poorly prepared when they started out from Florence and they were soon bare-footed.

These bare-foot men would visit the slaughter pen at night when we would stop and get a piece of rawhide and cut it in the shape of Indian moccasins, sew them up with stings of the hide on their feet and move out next morning as gay as larks. If the day should be dry and sunshiny the hide would get dry and harden and draw up so that the men would have to cut them off and take it bare-footed. If it was wet and rainy these hide shoes or moccasins would last a day. Then they would go through the same process as the night before.

I recall now that Mr. M. E. Rossnam, of Bessemer, and then orderly sergeant of my company, got bare-footed. I saw him limping along the pike when the pike was covered with water and the sharp gravel uncovered so far as a coating of dirt was concerned, and yet he was ready every time the roll was called and in his place in front of the company and calling the roll. This was only one instance. I could tell hundreds of others if my space would allow.

Along in the afternoon the road would be literally strewn with pieces of cow-skin that had been discarded by the men because it had drawn up so it pinched their feet. Occasionally a fellow would get a new pair of shoes. These bare-footed men were allowed to fall out of ranks and pick their way along. They generally came up at night, however and ready to go again the next morning.

A subject that I believe never saw mentioned in print is that of "body lice." I mention it with a keen sense of the coarseness of it, but still to be true to the facts of history, I think I ought to allude to it. It was not a matter of personal slovenliness, because men could not help getting the "creatures" on them. You were compelled to mix with the fellows who were careless as to cleanliness, and once started there was no end to them. And again, we were compelled to go days and even weeks without an opportunity to bathe or change clothing.

I have more than once taken off my shirt and dipped it in the creek and rubbed it around, wringing it out and put it on before it was dry, and many times we did not have even a chance to do that. Another method of destroying the "creatures" was to take off your shirt, turn it wrong side out and hold it over a blaze, and not hot enough to burn the garment, but hot enough to destroy the "creatures", and even the eggs were in this way destroyed. These "creatures" were no respecter of persons. They would get on the private, and the lieutenant, and the captain, on the major, on the colonel and on the general. In fact they were ubiquitous, and seemed to be on everybody about the camp.

I shall never forget my first experience. I had heard a little said about them, but I thought there were only three or four men in camp that they would tackle. These were known to be especially neglectful of their persons as to cleanliness. But little by little it cropped out that the men were infested. It came my turn with others to go on guard, and as such I was compelled to spend the night or part of it in the guard tent. I learned afterward that the very ground on which we lay was infested with the "creatures."

So in a day or two I felt a restless sensation between my shoulders. I became suspicious. I went into a pine forest alone, disrobed myself an all I had on and made an examination, which resulted in a course of conduct that I often regretted later on when garments became so scarce. I had an elegant set of under flannels. This underwear I left, deserted it in the woods, left it all alone save the "creatures." I left them to starve to death.

I returned to camp, but said not a word to any one about it, for I thought I was disgraced. But soon I found that others were showing signs of a tickling between the shoulders also. But on this march, which lasted so long, we had learned the process of destroying the "creatures" by heat of fire.

I remember eating parched corn for two or three days, and that, too, because we did not have other food enough. We parched the corn at night about the camp-fire, and ate it as we marched. Cold parched corn is very hard, as you would find if you should try it for several hours. We had to chew it nearly all day to keep off hunger. My jaws literally gave out and yet I was still hungry.

The boys used to forage and bring in articles of food. One time a fellow brought in a gander, or maybe I should say a goose, and yet, he was not a goose but a gander. An earnest and prolonged effort was made to cook him, but it was no go. He was either too old and tough, or else we got him "set." At any rate we never ate him.



COLUMBIA

June 22, 1905:

We marched almost directly to Columbia, Tenn., without much hinderance from the Federals. Rations became scarce almost at once. We left Florence with a small supply and it was soon exhausted. We supplemented our daily allowance by foraging. The quartermaster scoured the country for supplies of all sorts.

Before we reached Columbia our rations had settled down to one large biscuit a day. This biscuit was made of flour that was the product of wheat secured from citizens of the section through which we passed. This wheat was ground on mills without being bolted. We got it bran and all. It was cooked absolutely without any kind of sifting or grease in it. Nothing but water and a short supply of salt went into it. Hence it was hard and the color was very dark. We got one large sized biscuit of this stuff for a day.

Our supply of meat was even shorter than the bread. We received absolutely nothing else than the above for days except we might by sending out men to get something extra in the way of fresh meat. But we were short of salt all the time and fresh meat could not be used without it. So we were almost constantly hungry.

If the Quartermaster Department was fortunate enough to secure anything we got it. If they did not, we did without. Most men were users of tobacco and that article was scarce, very scarce. In those days I was partial to the weed myself. We received tobacco from the government but it was awfully mean and very scarce at that. One day some of my men in their foraging expedition secured some of the very best tobacco.

We had in the 18th as assistant surgeon, Dr. Sheppard, formerly of north Alabama. Dr. Sheppard was sometimes given to his cups too much. So on one occasion to which I refer he was drinking just enough to be witty and cursing the government, because he got such mean tobacco. I said to him: "Doctor, I have some better tobacco than that. Try some of it." Said he: "If a man has better tobacco than this in this crowd he is of a damned suspicious character, for he must have stolen it." Dr. Sheppard was a unique character. Kind of heart, but drink was the curse of his life.

He was an old bachelor, and told me how it came about. He said he courted a beautiful young lady some years before the war broke out and won her heart and hand. Just before they were to be married an old widower in the neighborhood who was very wealthy offered the young lady a plantation if she would marry him. The young lady promptly reported the affair to her betrothed. They talked the matter over and feeling certain that the old man could not live more than a year or two, that it would be a good way to get rich quick. So it was arranged and agreed that she should accept the old man's offer, and they would postpone their marriage until the old fellow died. "Well," said the doctor, "It is amazing how that old man does hold on to life. He is living yet, and the Yankees have been there and carried off all the hired-hands and he has about worn the woman out and still lives, and I am an old bachelor now."

We had a few light skirmishes with the enemy between Florence and Columbia. The Yankees made a stand at that place. We approached the town from the south and invested it. We found it pretty well fortified. So Hood began a flank movement. Hardee's Corps was sent around to the west with Stewart's Corps, while Stephen D. Lee was left in front of the city to press the enemy out if possible. A pontoon bridge was thrown across Duck River west of the city only three or four miles, and the forces of Hardee and Stewart were transferred to the north bank and began an attempt to reach the pike between Columbia and Franklin.

When the enemy's forces found out this movement they precipitately left Columbia and started on a run for Franklin. Lee's forces pressed into the town and on to Duck River, which ran hard by on the north side. All means of crossing the river having been destroyed, we launched some pontoon boats upon the Duck's bosom and the 18th being in front, was ordered to get in and paddle over and take possession of works we could see on the other side. Other regiments were thrown over about the same time. It was not certain that the enemy was not in the forts and breastworks, so we expected trouble, and a lot of it. But to our surprise and joy when we charged with a yell up the bank and upon the works there was no enemy in sight.

This occurred about sun-down, and by the time we explored the surroundings to see that an enemy was not lying in ambush, it was quite dark. A bridge was quickly thrown across the river and before day all of Lee's forces had crossed to the north side of Duck River ready to move along the Franklin Pike. The 18th slept that night where the enemy had slept the night before.

Early the next morning we were on the move toward Franklin. From the very start we saw abundant signs of great haste by the retreating foe. There were every species of property scattered along the road. Wagons, guns, nap-sacks, crippled horses, blankets, cartridges, shoes, hats, haversacks, and in fact everything that a well supplied army could have, they had thrown down in their mad and wild flight. Some citizens said to me that the entire army seemed to have lost its head.

ENEMY PASSES ON FRANKLIN PIKE

June 29, 1905:

I have been informed that Stewart's and Hardee's Corps reached a position near the Franklin Pike about midway between Columbia and Franklin on the afternoon and evening of November 29th.

Men told me that a large body of troops lay in hearing of the noise and confusion of the fleeing enemy all night long, and that men and officers were anxious to attack them in the flank, but for some reason never explained, so far as I know, they were not allowed to do so. It was said that some of the major generals begged to be allowed to strike the enemy as he was passing in confusion, but orders were positive not to do so.

It always looked to this writer, from the information he could gather at the time and from subsequent information that with Hardee and Stewart attacking on the flank and S. D. Lee's Corps pressing in the rear, it has always seemed to me that Thomas' army might have been completely destroyed. Hood had the larger army and the disadvantage at which he had Thomas could leave no doubt as to the result. It was my information that Gen. Hood's cavalry did not even harass the enemy's retreat in the least, though they as well as the infantry lay within gun shot and saw them go by.

I would not do Gen. Hood an injustice knowingly, but I do know that from the private up to the major general his action in this matter was condemned. If he ever gave any reason for his course in not making an assault, it has escaped by notice.

Daylight dawned just as the last of the enemy passed out of reach of Hardee's guns. Hardee's and Stewart's Corps fell in behind them and followed on to Franklin, with Lee's bringing up the rear.

The 18th left bivouac before the dawning of the day, and made a forced march after the enemy, expecting constantly to come up with the Yankees destroyed by the other corps of Hood's army. We looked in vain. I should be glad if any one knows why Hood never made the attack until he reached Franklin, he would let me know, for it has always been a source of more or less of worry to me.

When we got into the vicinity of Franklin there was more or less of an air of seriousness that pervades an army before a great battle. We soon discovered that trouble was brewing and that the men and officers who were so anxious to fight the night before were to be fully satisfied. We did not know the conditions in front of us. We did not know that Franklin was fortified, or that it was so close by. We thought (that is the privates) that the enemy had decided to give battle in the open, but we were soon undeceived. It was discovered that the town was strongly fortified, that the breastworks were of the very best, and the forts were strong.

We have always thought that the Federals did a very unwise thing to abandon the hill that is just west of Franklin and allow the Confederates to get possession of it. It was the key that unlocked the town to us. Hood could have destroyed the army in that town with his artillery on that hill. And even the long range rifles could reach the town from that eminence. Gen. Hood put a number of cannon on this hill, together with infantry. What fighting the 18th did in this battle was done from that hill. The hill was higher than the town and from this hill a murderous fire was poured down on the hapless enemy.

The enemy had a line of works which included this hill, but they soon abandoned it and fell back to the inner line, which we discovered after the battle was splendidly and strongly built. It could not have been possible for the enemy to have held the town after they lost the outer line of works. I don't know exactly what corps was in front when the engagement was brought on, but it was a desperate assault. The level space between the outer and inner line was literally strewn with dead men and much the larger part of them wore the blue.

It could not have been earlier than 3:30 o'clock when the fight opened. We were maneuvering some time for position. When the 18th reached its position on the hill we discovered the breastworks and felt a little nervous over it, for we had stood behind works so much and repulsed the enemy and slaughtered them at a terrific rate that we though they would do the same thing for us. We had seen whole lines of blue fall in our front in an effort to charge our works. So we felt that we were about to take the medicine that we had so often given to the Yankees.



FRANKLIN

July 6, 1905:

So far as I could discover the enemy had been driven into their last works before nightfall. The engagement had become general, though the length of the battle line was not so very extensive. I would say not extending more than one and one-half miles, not including the cavalry on the flanks. Around and near the town the fighting was severest.

After witnessing and participating in many of the great battles in which the Army of Tennessee was engaged, I am fully persuaded that the battle of Franklin was the severest to its extent of any other. It was terrific from the opening until the close. It extended far into the night, not ceasing until 10 o'clock.

From my position of the hill I had a full view of nearly the entire fighting lines of both our own and that of the enemy. The lines were not far apart. And to see the lines of blaze as it rolled from the two lines almost incessantly for two hours in the darkness was a pentacle rarely witnessed. And then there was the blaze of the artillery. The whole was fireworks of an intense sort, and a magnificence rarely seen by human beings. It was the only engagement I ever witnessed between two main armies at night. It was apparent that the slaughter was dreadful on both sides.

At about 10 o'clock the firing from the enemy grew weaker, and it was discovered that they were evacuating the town. When this was known the 18th was ordered forward from the hill along the pike and into the town. By the light of the stars we saw many ghastly sights. The dead and dying lay thick and many dead on every hand. We crossed the works and halted just inside along the pike. We were not certain as to the whereabouts of the foe, but we soon ascertained that he had at least crossed Little Harpeth River, and so close was he pressed that he did not destroy the bridge. The soldiers soon spread over the town and many of the citizens asked for a guard, lest the men might depredate upon them.

This brought my attention to one of the most touching incidents of the war. Just inside the breastworks on the left of the pike as you approached the town stood a magnificent brick residence. The people inside called for a guard. I, a non-commissioned officer with four or five men, was sent to protect the place. I entered the house and ordered all out except the family and the guard. The lady asked me where Gen. Cleburne's command was. I told her that he had been killed on the works just at the edge of her yard. Said she: "I have a son on his staff. He must be near somewhere." The daughters had also approached near and heard the conversation, and all expressed great anxiety for the son and brother.

While standing and talking thus we saw what seemed to be litter bearers coming through the gate. One soldier in advance said to the lady: "Your son is wounded and we are bringing him in." And sure enough it was the son and brother of the family. He was found a short distance from the works and not twenty yards from his mother's door, having received a mortal wound while following the intrepid and gallant Gen. Cleburne in a charge on the enemy's works. Tenderly he was laid on the bed at "home." It was soon discovered that his wound was fatal.

The scene that followed that home-coming of the gallant lieutenant beggars description. The grief, the anguish, the sorrow of the mother and sisters was, I think, the most pathetic I ever witnessed. The boy had gone away at the beginning and had never returned until he had been borne into his mother's room to yield up his life for his country. He lived perhaps two hours or more after he was carried into the house. Strong men, soldiers used and hardened to scenes of suffering and grief, turned away from the grief of those wailing women. I remained about the yard and premises until day dawned. I returned to my regiment and proceeded to assist for a short time in looking after the wounded.

The morning was quite cold and frosty and I observed frost on the brows of many of the dead. The wounded had suffered with cold during the night beside their wounds. I approached one wounded Federal and did what I could for him, and while in conversation with him I learned that this was his first experience in battle, and furthermore he said he had no interest in the war, but he had been forced into it, and he abused Lincoln and everybody that had anything to do with fighting the South.

I was greatly impressed with the large number of Federals killed in the retreat from the outer to the inner works. We certainly killed many more of them as they retreated than they did of us when we charged. I make no attempt to explain this, but it was certainly so.

I went round and inspected the line of works, and looked at the dead Yankees as they lay in heaps upon heaps in the ditches. I never witnessed such destruction of life anywhere else, not even in the open. Here in splendid works lay the dead as many as five piled on each other and this, too, for long distances. I am not mistaken for I took the pains to count them in several places. The ditches, were literally filled with dead men. And what was more, there were more dead Yankees in the ditches than there were dead Confederates outside the ditches, notwithstanding the fact that the Confederates had charged them again and again.

Our men looking upon this dreadful carnage in good breastworks were more or less demoralized by it. We had concluded that we were almost invulnerable to bullets when we were in breastworks. We had been charged so often and especially during the Dalton-Atlanta campaign, without much loss to ourselves that we had concluded that men in good breastworks could not be hurt much. This slaughter of men behind works at Franklin was an eye-opener to us and I noticed that our men were not near so confident after looking upon this awful destruction of human life.

Walking along the street in front of a large residence I saw many books scattered about on the ground. The house seemed to be deserted. I picked up a small volume. It had the name Hill on it, as did all the rest. This book proved to be a copy of Don Quixote. I have that book in my possession yet. I carried it the balance of the war and brought it home.

Soon after sun-up Hood was putting his army in motion toward Nashville with Holtzclaw's Brigade in front and the 18th leading.

NASHVILLE

July 13, 1905:

The march was made from Franklin to Nashville on December 1st. The enemy seems not to have halted between the two cities. It was a forced march, though the enemy did not show much great haste as from Columbia to Franklin. He must have been badly whipped, for an army will not leave a fortified position in the night and retreat in haste unless he is whipped. That is just what the Federals did on that occasion. They made no pretense of halting until they had crossed the Cumberland River.

We reached the vicinity of Nashville some time before night and took position in line of battle. It looked as if we were going to charge the town at once, but from some cause we were not ordered to do so. Later, I had reliable information that the enemy had actually evacuated Nashville in great confusion, only the rear guard remaining, waiting for the Confederates to charge. I believe there are plenty of men living in Nashville and elsewhere who will testify to this statement.

Everything indicated that the enemy was not prepared to meet Hood's army at that time. Hood halted and by next morning thousands of Yankee troops were pouring into Nashville, and the opportunity to occupy the town by the Confederates without a struggle was lost, and within three or four days reinforcements had arrived in such numbers that it would have been impossible for Hood to have taken the city.

So we built breastworks and began a waiting game, waiting for the enemy to get ready to overwhelm us and drive us back.

To me it looks now and did then as a foolish thing to do, to wait until the enemy got ready to force us back. I thought we should have gone forward and been defeated rather than to wait for an overwhelming force to defeat us and then drive us back. There was not a private in the rear ranks who did not know that Hood's course would prove disastrous to our cause.

An assault at Nashville could not have proved more disastrous to our cause even if we had failed, than the fight before Nashville proved. On the other hand, Hood had open to him a voluntary retreat which would have been better than a defeat and then a rout which did result after the wait.

The weather was bitter cold. We were scarce of food and clothing. Many men were still bare-footed, and more becoming so every day. There were no blankets except the ones we carried all the summer. So far as came under my observation no man got a new blanket. I had but one, and that had eighteen bullet holes in it.

To shield us from the cold we dug holes in the ground, say two or three feet deep and large enough for three men to lie down in. We got twigs of brushes or weeds or anything of the sort and laid them in the bottom of our pits, put our blankets down, reserving the larger part to cover with. Generally we had one under and two over us. It was astounding how much warmer it was in the holes than on the top of the ground.

I feel certain that many more men would have died from exposure if it had not been for this expedient of getting under cover of the soil. It looked very much like laying down in a soldier's grave. A soldier's grave, you know, is a shallow hole where one or more are laid down, a blanket laid over them and dirt thrown on them.

My first experience in laying in the ground gave me a sort of grave-yard feeling. For several days the enemy hardly showed themselves, but finally they began to build works in our front, and nearer they came to us every day almost. Finally they began the flanking process. We had then been in front of Nashville about fourteen days. We maneuvered on the 13th and 14th, and falling back until the 15th of December, we took up position about six miles back from Nashville along Franklin Pike. Holtzclaw's Brigade was along the left of the pike as you approach Nashville. The 18th had a position next to the pike behind a stone fence.

There had been more or less fighting for several days, the enemy trying to force us back by flank movements. I had an impression at the time that the Cumberland River ran not far from our left and helped us in protecting our left flank. Though the enemy did force us back without a general engagement for two or three miles. Our lines were long drawn out. We did not stand nearer than three feet of each other, and only one line at that, and with no reserve line.

Just how Hood could have expected to have held back an army with three or four lines is beyond my conception of things. We had but little time to throw up works, and most of our troops received the assaults of the enemy behind the most flimsy works.

The battle opened on our left and raged furiously until one or two o'clock before the 18th became engaged.

RETREAT AT NASHVILLE

July 20, 1905:

December 16, 1864, was a gloomy, drizzly, dark day; not very cold, but foggy, more or less. There had been fighting on the 13th, 14th and 15th of December. Early in the day of the 16th the fighting began on our left, and continued with increasing fury all day until after 4 o'clock, when our lines were broken.

I had observed one of our batteries on a ridge far to our left belching forth death and destruction all day long, and from the noise of small arms I was certain that the purpose was to break our line at that point. I think it must have been a little after noon when we discovered that the enemy was advancing in our front. There was an open space of perhaps forty feet from the stone fence where the 18th was to the timber.

The Yankees were coming through the timber toward us. They were making a great to do, a great noise. I could hear curses and imprecations as if threats were being made, and men were being urged forward by the officers. They came rather slowly but with much shouting and cursing, and clanking of sabers and horses hooves, etc. We held our fire, and looking steadily to the front in silence we awaited the enemy's on-coming.

Finally we saw them. And to our disgust they were negroes. That discovery seemed to remove all doubt as to what the result would be. Just before the negroes entered the open we turned loose a volley. They fell like wheat before a mowing machine. They wavered, staggered and in confusion they fled. I do not remember that they fired at all. If so, no harm was done our ranks. The ground was literally blue with dead and wounded "negroes." We certainly had laid them out.

In no time we heard the confusion and noise and cursing and urging forward again, and we discovered they were coming for a second dose of lead pills and blue whistlers. Again we held our fire until they approached the open and again we saw the black braves in front literally driven into the jaws of death by their "white-skinned though black-hearted officers."

Again we poured a volley into the line of blacks and again they fell to earth almost as one man by scores and hundreds. Again they wheeled and fled, looking as if they were running over the officers and the white lines behind them, for they were literally driven on by a line of white soldiers. Again we escaped without a man being killed so far as I discovered. So far as I could tell I never heard a bullet from their guns. No one was hurt in my immediate presence.

From the noise I heard I knew they were coming again. Some of the boys said, "Let's put an end to them this time". Sure enough here they came pell-mell as before and as before we waited our opportunity and a volley sent them in wild confusion backward. In the confusion I saw one of the Confederates jump the fence and run forward and pick up a flag and bring it in. Glancing up (for we were still firing), I noticed in large letters on the flag: "Presented by the ladies of Murfreesboro."

I over-looked the word "colored", and hence for a moment I thought that white women had done what seemed to me to be an outrageously low-down thing, and my indignation burned, but only for a moment. I do not remember whether this incident occurred before or after the third charge, but that is not material. Nor do I recall who it was who got the flag.

About the same time a riderless horse came down the pike in full gallop, leaped the obstructions in the pike and was caught by some one in the rear. He was a magnificent looking animal.

I have always believed that the Federals under-stated their loss on this occasion. It must have been tremendously heavy if I am to judge by what occurred in front of the 18th. The dead lay thick on the ground as we could see, and we kept up the firing as long as there was one in hearing. They seemed at last to be convinced that we could not be driven out of our line and so they retired beyond the reach of our guns, but kept up a cannonade. This did little damage, in fact, none that I saw.

During the lull that followed these successive charges I again observed the Confederate battery on the hill far to our left. Finally I saw the puffs of smoke coming from the guns, but they pointed in a different direction. I called Capt. Walker's attention to it with the remark that the Yankees had certainly captured our battery and broken our line. We watched our front as well as our left. It was perhaps half an hour or more before the blue-coats appeared sweeping down across our line taking us in the flank.

The fog was so thick just at this time that we could not see far, so I think they could not have been more than 100 yards from us when we first

saw them. We had not heard any command to retreat, but we stood and looked, not being able to fire because our own men were between us and them as they would leave the works on a run.

I heard the command "Retreat" for the first time in battle, and for the first time showed the enemy my heels. We must cross the pike which was fenced in by a stone fence on either side. How to cross these fences and do it quick was a question I was running through my mind when a cannon ball struck one fence just in front of me and knocked a hole in it fifteen feet long or longer. Without hesitation I went through at high speed.

All the while I could hear Yankees saying, "Halt! Halt!" and the bullets were spitting thick around me. I had cleared the first fence and when in the middle of the pike a cannon ball struck the other fence just in front of me, and without halting, I ran through in a shower of broken rocks and stone.

Having crossed the pike I noticed a number of my company and regiment running along with me. One of my comrades said: "Jones, I am going to stop." "I am not!", was my reply. I never saw that comrade until 1901. I met him at Blocton, Ala. His name was W. H. Gentry. On I rushed amid a shower of bullets until I reached the top of a gentle slope and was out of sight of the enemy.

I saw a major making frantic efforts to rally the men, and detected what I thought to be a make-believe air about him. I turned and walked up to him and said: "Here are a hundred men who will follow you if you will just lead out." And I called to the men and said: "Hold on. Here is a man who will lead us back." Many of the men stopped, and when I looked around for our leader he was riding to the rear in fast time.

It was now becoming dark, and straggling on I soon fell in with Col. Hunly and Maj. McLaughlin, and by the time darkness had fairly fallen on us our regiment had gotten together, and the battle in front of Nashville had ended in the utter defeat of the Confederate forces under Gen. James B. Hood.

RETURN THROUGH FRANKLIN

July 27, 1905:

The night of December 16th was spent by our army in more or less of an effort to straighten out the confusion into which we had been thrown by our hasty retreat from our lines. It had rained and everything was wet and muddy and the darkness was inky black. I knew nothing that was going on except in my immediate presence, but my surroundings indicated anything other than cheerfulness and optimism. It was evident that the retreat must be kept up.

Early in the morning the Eighteenth was in motion, with not more than 250 men. I do not recall whether Gen. Holtzclaw was present or not. Many men had been captured and the brigade had been greatly reduced. We moved along the pike toward Franklin. Three miles east of Franklin, toward Nashville, there is a ridge running across the country, and the pike ran through a low gap in this ridge. On the ridge on both sides or the pike Hood posted his army to check the enemy's advance. Holtzclaw's Brigade was not in this, but passed to the rear and halted in the valley. Col. Hunly was ordered to take the Eighteenth and go up a road leading to the north of us and guard a gap in the ridge.

The regiment halted just on the edge of the valley, and Capt. H. P. Walker, of Company G, was ordered to take his company further up the hollow and send out vedettes to the top of the hill in the gap. It fell to my lot as corporal to go in command of this squad. On the hilltop we could overlook the country to the north of us and easily observe the approach of the enemy. We had been at our post but a short time when we heard the roar of small arms as if heavy fighting was going on.

Soon we observed a man running up the hill toward us and soon saw he was a man from Capt. Walker, ordering us in at a double quick. The courier turned and fled back at breakneck speed, but I, not being in a race horse condition, marched with my squad leisurely down the hill. Here came another courier, commanding me to double quick with the squad, but we continued our march leisurely on.

Joining the company, we went at breakneck speed down the rough road. When we arrived at the spot where we left the regiment it was gone, and no trace of it was to be found.

Just at this time we saw across the valley from us, and coming down the slope, many Yankees and several stands of Yankee colors. In the distance and fog they were taken by Col. Hunly to be an advance by the enemy, when in reality they were a number of prisoners captured on the ridge in the charge made on our lines by the incautious foe.

A staff officer came up and, not finding the colonel, ordered Capt. Walker to move with his company back to the road and on toward Franklin, which seemed to be about three miles.

Rain was falling in torrents. As soon as the enemy found we had abandoned the line on the ridge they crossed it and swept down the valley on us. Being held in check to some extent by our cavalry and some artillery, Col. Hunly had moved over to the north side of the ridge and passed along until he struck a road coming to Franklin and crossed back and struck the pike a short distance above Little Harpeth River, which skirted Franklin on the east.

Holtzclaw's Brigade had just passed the point of intersection of Col. Hunly's road and the pike, and had not yet crossed the bridge. As the Eighteenth filed into the pike the Yankee calvary charged down on them. They were wheeled into line and made resistance. Their guns were wet, and the attack was so sudden and unexpected that practically no defense could be made, the cavalry charging among them cutting with sabers and shooting with pistols. The men had nothing to do but surrender. Col. Hunly and Maj. McLaughlin galloped away on their horses an made their escape.

Some rather exciting incidents occurred in this mix-up. Alex Dees, a Private in Company G, and who was with the regiment instead of his company on this occasion, who was long-legged and gangling and not considered a first-class soldier, immortalized himself by outrunning a Yankee on a horse leaping into the river and making his escape. I was just entering on the bridge, and could see the mix-up. The cavalryman was striking at him with his saber at every leap.

I never saw a long, lanky man run like that before or since. He reached the bank of the Little Harpeth at a high bank and no road, and without hesitation threw himself into the water and swam to safety to the other side, carrying his gun and traps with him. We all had a higher regard for Dees ever after that incident. He was raised out somewhere in Meek's Beat. I have lost sight of him - don't know whether he still lives or not.

Another incident I think worth relating, showing personal courage of a high order; Lt. Hardwick, of Company F (I think), decided he would not surrender. He was a small man and very active and among the fleetest-footed men in the regiment. When a cavalryman dashed up to him and demanded his surrender, he halted, drew his pistol and shot the cavalryman, who tumbled from his horse. Hardwick sped on toward the river, with a whole troop of horsemen after him. But no horse could overtake him after that. He struck the river about where Dees did and about the same time, and crossed in safety and met the remainder of the regiment up in town a few minutes later, wet, but smiling. I have lost sight of Lt. Hardwick.

The struggling army wound its way through Franklin. The Eighteenth, what was left of it, with the brigade passing through the famous locust thicket. We passed along where many dead had been buried, ditches having been dug and the dead having been placed in them side by side. We marched along over these ditches, our feet sinking down in the soft, wet dirt. I saw more than one hand or foot exposed and I distinctly felt my foot rest on a dead body as it sunk into the mud. It was a gruesome sight. And then the stench arising from these dead bodies was something fearful.

Some troops held the bridge and the river line for some time, and then we abandoned Franklin for good.

Then commenced the most memorable retreat it was my misfortune to witness during the great struggle the South so heroically carried on in the interest of states rights and constitutional liberty.

SOUTH FROM FRANKLIN

August 3, 1905:

Passing out of Franklin toward Columbia we had gone but a short distance before the enemy crossed the river and entered Franklin in triumph, from which they had been driven only a few days before in disorder and confusion. They followed us promptly and pressed us closely. Holtzclaw's Brigade was in the lead, and that, together with Gibson's Brigade, of Louisiana, of Clayton's Division, covered the retreat on the left of the pike going toward Columbia. There were other troops no doubt engaged in covering the retreat, but I am relating the part the Eighteenth took in this memorable retreat.

From the time we left Franklin until nightfall we were constantly engaged with the enemy. We formed a line of battle and held the enemy in check until the other brigade would form in our rear some 100 yards; then we would fall back, sometimes under fire, and form in the rear of the other brigade again, and that brigade would file back behind us and thus we did all the afternoon.

I never saw the enemy so persistent at any other time in all my experience. They absolutely gave us no rest at all. They kept in sight of us nearly all the time. We kept a piece or two of artillery to the rear, and the artillery did as much in keeping back the enemy, or more than the infantry.

Near sunset the Yankees did a really bold and daring deed. We had a piece of artillery planted in the pike. There was a slight rise in the ground in our rear, so that the Yankees could not see us until they reached the top of the rise, and then they were in perhaps fifty yards of us.

When they came in sight they at once charged down on our cannon. The artillerymen were making an effort to get the gun away, and just as they mounted and were in the act of starting this the Yankee cavalry galloped up and whacked at the men with their sabers and cut the traces and released the cannon. Most of our artillerymen got away. The Eighteenth was forming a line not far away, and I could see the entire affair.

Darkness was coming on. We had reached a place on the pike on one side of which was a stone fence and on the other side a woods. The enemy were making demonstrations as if they intended to charge us. So in order to better protect ourselves, we formed a "hollow square", the stone fence forming one side of the square. In this position we waited, but not long. It had become quite dark, but we could tell from the noise and confusion and command being given that they were preparing for a charge. So presently here they came through the woods and down the pike, and in almost every direction. We kept quiet and held our fire until they were almost on us before we fired on them.

They wheeled and fled, seemingly in great confusion. Some of them ran up to our line, driving their horses in our midst. In one instance, they caught a man, belonging to Capt. A. B. Vandergrift's Company, in the Fifty-Eighth Regiment, and dragged him some distance into the woods before they released him.

Quite a number of the enemy were killed and wounded. No damage was done us other than a good scare, for we had never been charged before in the darkness by cavalry. The horsemen coming through the woods with sabers clanking and horses' hooves breaking the sticks and men and horses tearing through the timbers, and in addition to all that there were the voices of many officers, and altogether it made a time of anxiety not soon to be forgotten.

This was the only time in my experience that I ever saw a "hollow square" formed. I am informed by Mr. R. F. Lacey that Gen. Pettus's Brigade did the same thing about the same time and near the same place. These Yankee cavalrymen were commanded by Gen. Fitzpatrick, so I learned. Well they were the most reckless set that I came in contact with during the entire struggle.

We remained near this spot almost the entire night, wet, tired and hungry. It had been the most strenuous day that we had ever experienced. Marching, fighting and maneuvering all day long without even time to eat if you had an appetite, and if you had an appetite, you did not have the rations. So we struggled on and trudged on and fought on until overcome by weariness, fatigue and hunger, we lay down in the mud and dampness and fell asleep.

BACK THROUGH COLUMBIA, PULASKI AND SHOAL CREEK

August 10, 1905:

Writing from memory almost entirely, as I do, it would be something marvelous if I should not fall into error once in a while. My purpose is to speak of things that I saw and that have not been told before. Therefore, I am not surprised that my comrades say to me occasionally: "You were in error about so and so." I am more than glad to have my attention called to these slips. I had fallen into an error about the date of the battle of Nashville. We wrote January, when it should have been December 16 instead. (Corrected)

Again we stated that Lt. Hardwick belonged to Company F, when we should have said he was in Company B, as our good friend G. T. Cullins, of Caledonia, Ark., calls our attention. I am glad to have my attention called to these things, for I want my narrative to be correct as far as is possible.

In our last we left the Eighteenth resting in the dampness and mud after a very active day in warfare. Next morning we began the retrograde movement very early. One of the first things I noticed was Dr. Sheppard on foot trudging along, looking sober and mad. Said I: "Doctor, what are you doing afoot?" "The Yankees got the mule, and I have to, not from choice."

We moved on for several hours and halted for a rest, and while thus sitting on the roadside I heard the doctor say, "Why, there's the mule", and springing to his feet he seized the bridle and told the soldier to dismount, which he did readily. I had not seen a man better pleased that he was at his recovery.

The enemy seemed to have abandoned his strenuous campaigning of the day before. At least I heard nor saw nothing of them, and we moved leisurely on toward the south. The second night after passing Franklin we camped near Columbia.

Next morning there was a slow rain falling, and the weather was very much colder. We took up the line of march very much dispirited. Rations were hard to get and not much when we got them. Shoes were scarce, and the clothing of many was threadbare. We were certainly a rather unpresentable lot. The morale of the army was not good by any means. We felt that we were beaten and unable to rally or make a stand. The march from Columbia to Pulaski was made in constantly slow falling rain in connection with a falling temperature and did not seem to be in a hurry for my recollection is we went but a few miles that day.

We camped that night in a woods and had a most splendid fire. There was an immense tree that had fallen. It was dry and Company G, of the 18th, was fortunate to secure this log, and had only to lay a few pieces to it to have a great and hot fire. Rations did not come pouring into us, so we were short for something to eat.

There was much discussion of Hood as a general. The consensus of opinion was that Hood was a failure as an army commander. That he passed his capacity when he went higher than a division commander. There were those, however, who declared that Gen. Hood was the most consummate of generals in history. I don't think history had done that yet, nor is it likely to. These discussions almost reached the point of belligerency sometimes.

Everyday's march brought us nearer the Tennessee River, and now the news reached us that the river was very high and that Yankee gunboats were up the river ready to destroy any bridge that we might throw across. This was very plausible, for we knew there were boats in the lower Tennessee and that there had been an abundance of rain, and that all the rumors were possible. Distress and worry of that sort are contagious and most of the men were filled with gloom.

The prospect for reaching the south bank of the Tennessee was not good. We could now hear rumors of fighting in the rear, more or less, and some wounded were brought forward. It was said that we could not recross at Florence.

We finally reached Shoal Creek, a large stream flowing out of the Tennessee and emptying into the river about ten miles above Florence. Here we heard for the first time the name Bainbridge, a name that in a few hours was on the lips of the entire army.

STRUGGLE TO THE PONTOON BRIDGE

August 17, 1905:

The day following the night we camped north of Shoal Creek was bitter cold. We lingered in camp, not knowing why we were not ordered to move forward. We could hear the noises in the rear, indicating that the enemy was disposed to press us in there. Toward 12 o'clock we were ordered to get ready to move. When we did move we plunged right into the woods. We did not go far until we came to Shoal Creek.

There was no road nor ford nor bridge. An engineer corps was at work throwing a pontoon bridge across, and already had it constructed for perhaps twenty feet. The Eighteenth was ordered to cross over to the other side, and Col. Hunly and Maj. McLaughlin, to show that they were in earnest about it, plunged in on their horses. The men took to the partly constructed bridge, only to plunge into the icy cold water a moment later. The water was between waist and shoulder deep to a six-footer like myself. My!, but was it cold.

The bed of the creek seemed to be shoaly. One moment you would step on a rock that took you nearly out of the water, and down you would go neck deep. I saw Col. Hunly's horse stumble on one of these water-hidden boulders and fall out of sight, rising, with a plunge under again, but the colonel kept his seat firmly. It was hard to tell by the glance I got which had the most distressing and agonizing face, the horse or the colonel. Maj. McLaughlin's horse blundered, and so did Dr. Sheppard's mule. It was the most comical sight to see horsemen and footmen, struggling together in the water, fairly shivering with cold and trying to keep their feet and seats. At the moment I laughed and as I recall the scene today -the yells of the men, many of them trying to hold their guns above the water -it makes a picture perhaps the most laughable the writer has ever seen.

The distance covered in the water was about 100 feet. When we reached the bank it was with great difficulty we could get out on account of steepness. We had a hill to climb that was almost perpendicular. It was so steep that had it not been covered with bushes and trees we could never have climbed it. It was so steep that positively we had to pull ourselves up by saplings and trees. This hill was perhaps 150 feet high. How and where the horsemen got out and up the hill I don't know, but certain it is they did not get out and up where I did, for it was impossible.

On top of the hill we landed in an open field, with the surface rather facing toward the north, where we caught the full sweep of the wind, and in five minutes our clothing had turned to ice. There were many dead trees and much brush, and we soon had great fires and were drying our clothes and blankets. I remember the colonel approached, and I thought he was the meekest looking colonel I had ever looked at. After drying out the ice and cold we moved over the ridge toward the Tennessee River, which was only a short distance away. It was being said by everybody that we were going to cross the river at Bainbridge, and that it was only a ferry; that a pontoon was being put across at this place.

Bainbridge soon was on the lips of the entire army. We learned it was some eight miles above the city of Florence. We were told that Bainbridge was above some shoals, and that the gunboats could not ascent to that point and we were safe from them. We proceeded to fortify against the pursuing enemy in our rear, for it was evident that we would be detained three or four days in getting the bridge in and crossing the wagon trains, the artillery, the calvary, etc., before the infantry could go. It was apparent that the enemy did not intend to allow us to cross in peace. We discovered that the river was very high indeed, and it began to be rumored that the gunboats were ascending the river and that they would destroy the bridge, which had just been completed.

We discovered that a number of pieces of the largest artillery we had, had been placed along a high bank or ridge commanding the river most completely. These cannon were masked or hidden, so the approaching gunboats could not see them.

The second day after the Eighteenth took up their positions near the bridge we heard the gunboats puffing down river not more than half a mile, and they were approaching our position. Every cheek blanched, for we did not know what gunboats could do, and besides that the bridge was in danger, and if a cannon ball should cut the cable, why our bridge would be gone and we might never reach the south bank in safety. We could not tell what our cannon could do for an ironclad. It was a time of great suspense and anxiety.

I went with others down the river a little ways and got a glimpse of the creature. It was coming very slowly and apparently with caution. I think it must have been within 200 yards of the bridge, feeling its way along when all of a sudden our cannon turned loose on it. The shots must have been effective, for it turned and fled down the river. A number of our guns were now below it, so that it had to go some distance before it got clear from the range of our guns. It did not reply to our shots, as I remember, until the boat was well out of reach of our cannon. But what terrific screams and screeching yells came from that gunboat. I never had heard anything like it up to that time nor have I heard any noise giving out a voice so frightened with distress and agony. We were not troubled with anymore boats prospecting for "rebels" at that place.

Long years afterward, while this writer was residing in Florence, he made an effort to learn of the damage done to that boat. An old gentleman informed him that he remembered the occurrence, and that his information was that the boat had to go back somewhere up the Ohio to be repaired. This incident put an end to our fears on account of the boat trouble, for we are sure that our artillery was too much for them.

The river was so very high that it was with very great difficulty that the bridge was made secure. The bridge was almost in the shape of a half-moon. The cables swagged down stream, drawn by such a strong current that it was impossible to get them straight across. The bridge finished, the transferring of Hood's demoralized army south of the Tennessee River was begun.

It was a slow process. In the first place the bridge constantly pressed against by the strong current, was not considered safe by the engineers, and it swagged so that it was made more dangerous thereby. The wagons and cannon were only allowed on the bridge at considerable distances apart. And cavalry only single file and some distance apart. And when the infantry came on the bridge it was in single file, and they were cautioned to walk steady and without that swinging gait that creates motion in the bridge.

The Eighteenth watched the crossing for a day and a half before it came time to cross. All this time we had looked yearningly and longingly toward the fields and woods on the south bank, and then we could contemplate the difficulties that lay between us and the inviting spot, and our hearts almost sank with us. The Yankees might charge us from the rear, the gunboats might return, our cables might break and the bridge go to pieces. All or any of these might take place and blast out our hopes.

SOUTH OF THE TENNESSEE RIVER TO MISSISSIPPI

August 24, 1905:

It was remarkable how anxious the men were to get back to the south side of the Tennessee River. As I remember it, it was almost a craze. The desire was an absorbing and a consuming one. It was the chief topic in camp circles for many hours. Would we safely reach the other side of the river or would the Yankees get us? These were questions that would press themselves on us and cause us anxiety. We felt that once across, we would be safe, at least for a while.

Finally, the order came for the Eighteenth to "fall in", and we started towards the bridge. We went on to the bridge with words of caution ringing in our ears from officers, "March steady and three paces apart." We were quite silent on the march across, and ever and anon we would glance up to see how much further it was to the shore.

At last our feet touched the south bank, and a shout went up from the men. A great load was lifted from our minds, for now we felt that we were in no immediate danger, and we therefore felt that if we stopped we could rest.

The Eighteenth did not have 100 men at this time. Much of the larger part of the regiment we carried into Tennessee had been captured at Franklin after the battle of Nashville, after we had begun to retreat.

After we crossed the river we marched leisurely in the direction of Tuscumbia, camping for the night a little east of where Sheffield is now, and not far from where we had camped before we crossed the river at Florence going toward Nashville.

Everybody seemed to be at sea, without chart or compass, as no one seemed to know our destiny or course. We soon found that our course lay through Tuscumbia, passing which we moved west along the Memphis and Charleston Railroad.

It was near mid-winter, and many men were still barefoot and thinly clothed. All were poorly fed and I do not remember that there was much murmuring among the soldiers. It was a pathetic sight to see these brave men limping along over the frozen ground with feet tied up in rags or other material, as the best they could do. And yet, when night came on, the fellows would limp into camp, eat what they had and lie down and sleep the sleep of the sincere patriot and be ready to move again next morning.

The night after passing Tuscumbia we camped in the neighborhood of Big Bear Creek. An incident occurred that evening just as we struck camp that distressed this writer personally very much. W. E. Ross, now living in Bessemer, was suddenly attacked with cramp in his stomach. He was my mess-mate, bed-fellow and distant kinsman, so I became concerned at once and hurried to call Dr. Sheppard. The doctor was tired and slow, and it seemed to me that my comrade would die before anything was done. I, with others, were doing what we could. He looked up into my face and said, "I am gone." How I was agonized and I turned to the doctor and commanded him to do something, and do it quick, as I indicated I would make him pay the consequences. He cursed back at me, but hastened with medicine.

Much to the delight of all the company, our comrade recovered and was able to move on the next morning as usual. He was orderly sergeant of our company, and one of the best soldiers that ever wore a Confederate uniform. We remember to have heard Capt. H. P. Walker, who commanded our company for three years, say that if all men were like W. E. Ross there would be no use for laws. I have often seen him in battle, but never saw him flinch.

Next morning we had to cross Big Bear Creek, which is named by act of the legislature of Alabama, Bear River. This act was passed several years ago, so that the general government might be induced to make an appropriation to have it cleaned out, as it could not be induced to make an appropriation to a creek. However, it is the same size.

There was no bridge, so it had to be forded. I and some other comrades followed the railroad to the bridge, but it had been burned, yet we found enough charred timbers in the water, on which we managed to cross dry shod.

We had already passed Iuka Springs, in Mississippi. We knew that Corinth lay to our course and the Yankees had occupied it for some time, and we did not think that our army was in a condition to fight a battle. So we hardly knew what was in store for us. We finally reached Burnsville and took the left hand road, leading to Tishomingo, the county seat of the county by that name, and some twenty miles to the left of Corinth.

Tishomingo was the talk among the men. This route proved to be a cut-off to reach Saltillo and Tupelo, Miss. Reaching the above vicinity, it began to be rumored that we were going into winter quarters. This rumor was so persistently handed around camp that it seemed settled.

The camp of the Eighteenth was situated on the border of an immense swamp, and this swamp seemed to be literally filled with wild hogs. The boys said, "Well, we had better kill our winter's supply of meat." So with one accord they breasted the swamp, and soon had the wild hogs on the run. The shooting was like a skirmish before a battle. Thousand of shots were being fired and the wounded hogs were squealing, and the officers were riding hither and thither pretending to try to put a stop to it. The hogs became stampeded and ran out of the swamp, only to be shot and killed or frightened our of their wits by running into the camps.

I recall a tremendous big wild boar came tearing out of the swamp at the top of his speed. He was as tall as a two year old yearling. A soldier picked up a gun and fired at him, striking him in the eye and killing him instantly at a distance of sixty yards. It was impossible to eat this meat, so it was left lying in camp unsought. Many other hogs were killed. I remember my company had much of it.

To our very great surprise a little after dark we received orders to be ready to move next morning at daylight. So we must make the best of matters. We selected the best pieces of our meat to carry on the march and left much in camp. We left all the wild boar. After spending only a part of a day and one night in our supposed winter quarters we moved on. Soon rain began to fall, and the roads and country were especially muddy, and marching was very tiresome, as we were all heavily loaded with meat.

We learned during the day that there had been a reckoning with citizens about the hogs and that the quartermaster had paid the citizens $70,000 for the destruction wrought among the hogs by the soldiers. We hung on to our meat, many of the boys almost staggering under the weight and weariness of the day's march.

Wet, tired and hungry, about sundown we were halted and the colonel addressed us in about this fashion: "Men, it is the order of the commanding general that every one of you give up every bit of fresh meat you have, and don't any of you attempt to hold back any of it or conceal it, or you will be arrested and court-martialed. You will now file out of the road there and camp", pointing to a place.

A staff officer was sitting on his horse to see it well done. There was a tree at the root of which we were told to pile it down. The Eighteenth left more than a wagon load of hams, etc., lying right there. I had a ham and a shoulder, and when I heard the order, I determined to take a risk in trying to save something. So I took out my shoulder in plain sight of the officer and threw it down in the pile and moved on.

Only a few yards farther on we staked arms for the night in a hickory grove, the ground being covered with leaves. No sooner had I stacked my gun than I said, "I am going to rest", and lay flat down on the ground, and while lying there took my ham from my haversack and covered it up with leaves. I rose and almost immediately the officers came searching for concealed meat. I readily turned my haversack up for inspection, for there was nothing in it but a bit of corn bread. The inspectors having gone, I brought out my ham. We cooked it and invited Capt. Walker to supper. He made no inquiry about the meat.

BACK TO MOBILE BAY

August 31, 1905:

The boys felt very sore over the loss of their winter's supply of meat, especially after furnishing the government transportation for it for nearly thirty miles. We suppose the quartermaster issued it to men, but it did not come our way.

About the 26th of January 1865, Holtzclaw's Brigade was detached from Hood's army and ordered to Mobile, Department of the Gulf. General Wheeler, in his "Confederate History of Alabama", says we left Meridian. While I do not remember at what point we took the train, I do know it was not Meridian, for we had only marched a little over a day from Saltillo and Meridian is many day's march from that point.

We reached Mobile the last day of January, and the same day we crossed to the eastern shore and took up a position in the neighborhood of Blakely, in Baldwin County.

A very sad incident took place as we were crossing the bay on boat. The soldiers, many of them, had gotten whiskey in the city, and numbers of them were drinking and carousing on board the boat. A man from Shelby County, who had a son in Company I, had met the regiment at Mobile on a visit to his son and was crossing with us on the boat to spend a few days with his son. The son, it seems, was of the number of those who were drinking. There was much confusion on account of the men interfering with the management of the boat. The officers had to some extent lost control.

Finally I heard the cry, "Man overboard!" Immediately the boat was stopped and backed back, and boats were thrown out and ropes, but no sign of the young man was ever seen or heard. It was the old man's son who was present visiting who was lost. I shall never cease to remember the awful grief of that old man. It moved the hardest hearts. He lingered around the bay for several days trying to recover the body, but without success, and turned with a sad and broken heart toward his darkened home.

Another incident resulting from the same cause, but not fatal, might be of interest. When the boat had landed at the rude and imperfect wharf and we were unloading and going ashore two men too much in their cups stepped through a hole in the wharf and fell into the water beneath. My recollection is that one of them was Burr Cox, of Company G and the other I do not remember. It seems they both went through at the same time.

There was a splashing, dashing and yelling such as would put "Johnny Sands's wife" to the blush. There was plenty of piling for them to cling to until they were brought up and gotten on shore. Certainly they were suddenly transformed into a state of sobriety. They were the wettest, towsiest, most be-drabbled, meekest, most subdued looking fellows I think I ever beheld. The sight was laughable indeed.

We soon found ourselves camped along the eastern shore and along Bay Minette River, passing the time fishing, going to Mobile on passes and discussing the prospect of peace.

It was during the time that the Peace Commission was arranging to hold a peace conference at Fortress Monroe. Vice-President Stephens, of the Confederacy, and others on one side and President Lincoln on the other side. Many days elapsed while negotiations were being arranged and while they were on, and hence there was much time for discussion, and for everybody to take sides. I remember in the Eighteenth that many men favored the acceptance of the terms offered by Mr. Lincoln, while others were opposed to it.

This scribe favored fighting to a finish, and many were the hot debates we had in camp over the question. I said, "If we quit now there will be a party who will always say we could have whipped if we had kept on, and that element would foment trouble in the future. So let's fight it out. We will be the gainers by it, for if we get whipped it will settle the question for all time to come." I yet believe that position had wisdom in it. Nobody has ever blamed anybody. We were overcome in the end, and that is an end of secession.

We soon learned of the enemy's presence on land in the neighborhood of Fort Morgan, and we began to expect that they intended a land movement up the east side of Mobile Bay. It was believed to be impossible, though they had Fort Morgan, for them to come up the bay on account of the forts and batteries and mines in the bay. It was understood that the bay was sown in mines and torpedoes underwater.

To show this was in the minds of the people I will relate an incident that occurred on a boat crossing the bay. I was going on a ten-hour pass, when we had gotten out about the middle of the bay and fog rose or fell, I don't know which, but everything became obscured, and somebody suggested that the boat might get out of the track and on to a torpedo. The thought seemed to take possession of the passengers and the women. Some of them went into a state of hysterics and screamed and wrung their hands. The captain was forced to stop the boat until the fog lifted. It was said that only a narrow passage was clear of torpedoes and that the pilots could follow this track when they could see.

Finally we reached the city; the fog came again; the boat would not yet venture back into the bay until the fog lifted, which did not take place until the next afternoon. When I reported at camp my pass had expired nearly twenty-four hours, but as I could not swim such a long distance I was excused.

We spent more time in building breastworks around Blakely. After we learned that the peace commissioners had failed to agree, we looked for much fighting, and we were not disappointed in that. The enemy was reported as making his way along the coast, and we knew it was only a question of a very short time before we would encounter him in battle. It was utterly impossible for us to fight in the open. We had but two brigades - Gibson's and Holtzclaw's, besides I think not more than two "boy regiments." There might have been a few other troops, but all told we did not have more than 2,500 men.

On the enemy's approach the Eighteenth Regiment, with Holtzclaw's Brigade, were ordered to enter Spanish Fort. General Gibson was in command of the forces in the fort at the time. We relieved two "boy regiments," they were going to Blakely. This was about the 1st of April, and was the beginning of the hardest campaign the Eighteenth saw in the entire struggle.

IN SPANISH FORT

September 7, 1905:

Reaching Spanish Fort, the Eighteenth took up a position about the middle of the line of works. But little effort had been made to build fortifications. So we at once went to work preparing to make the place as secure as possible. The fort was only a line of works reaching from the water's edge on the eastern shore, and at a point a little below the boat landing to nearly a half mile above on the marsh. This marsh was perhaps 200 yards wide, and it was thought to be impossible for the enemy to pass over it. So we did not extend our works through it, but it proved our undoing in the end. Reports came to us that the enemy was advancing in heavy force (but very cautiously) up the bay shore.

We were engaged almost day and night strengthening our works. Our line ran through a forest of immense yellow pine trees. Trees were felled and in such a way as to make it the more difficult for the enemy to approach our line. In addition to this we made a sort of portable rack. This was done by taking long poles some six inches through, boring holes through them and putting in sharp ended pieces five or six feet long. There were two sets of holes and pieces at right angles with each other, so that when the finished pieces lay on the ground the sharpened ends stood up six feet high, and pointed towards the enemy. These pieces being perhaps twenty-five feet long or longer, were lashed together at the ends.

They could not be moved without a lot of trouble. We had in some places two or more rows of these, besides brush with the tops all trimmed and the points pointing in the direction of the assailants. If you want to see a soldier work put him at work that is to protect him from the enemy's bullets. He will do his best work.

It was only a day or two until the enemy appeared in our front and a regular siege began. The enemy's fleet lay six miles down the bay, just out of reach of us. They were afraid to come closer for two reasons -the bay was full of torpedoes and our siege guns were dangerous if they got in range. We would have been in a box if the fleet could have approached, for it would have been in our rear.

As it was their shots all fell short by about 200 yards, and they seemed never to be able to throw them any nearer to us. We were mostly concerned about the army in our front. They stopped some distance off, but gradually drew nearer until they were within 150 yards. They would build a line and occupy it, and at night they would build another and occupy it, and so on until they had gotten uncomfortably close to us. But don't conclude that they did all this without opposition. While they worked at night we poured a murderous fire into them.

It was only a day or two until the siege was on in earnest. Many thrilling incidents occurred in course of the campaign. Many men were killed. The enemy threw mortar shells into the fort, and this proved annoying as well as dangerous. We could see the shells at night by the time they got a few feet from the gun's mouth; the fuse lighted could be distinctly seen, and the shell could be dodged. It was our custom to wait until we saw the shell start on its decent and run down the line until after the shell had done its work and return to our places.

These races brought about much laughter at the expense of the dignified fellows; and among the number was Capt. Walker and Dr. Shepperd. Capt. Walker did not like to run from the Yankees anyway, but he consoled himself that he was only running to get out of the way of a shell. I took many a hearty laugh at Dr. Sheppard in these runs. He would be so earnest, and, not very fleet of foot, he generally reached the stopping place last, and with a puff of breath, he would utter an execration on the Yankees, and then we would turn about and go back to our places to await another bomb and take another race.

These races occurred at regular intervals of fifteen minutes. We finally dug holes in the ground and covered them with big logs and dirt, and under these logs into the ground we would dart when a bomb was fired. Dr. Shepperd generally lay in the pit, but all the same he would dodge when a missile went by. To me this was amusing, and I would laugh on the sly, but the doctor saw me, and he said: "Jones, I don't see anything funny about this business, and I want you to hush it."

Of course this made the thing more laughable. These bombs rarely exploded, and we became careless about them. One night about 8 o'clock one came over and exploded just over three men, killing them all. After that the doctor never came out behind in the run for safety. Many men were killed by the explosions.

When the siege had fairly settled down there was a constant shooting going on, and men were picked off at almost every hour in the day. One of the finest men in the regiment was killed in this way. He was Sol Thompson, of Company E. He was from Tuscaloosa County, and at the time of his death was a Lieutenant in his company. A piece of shell tore off one shoulder and opened a hole into his lungs. I looked into the wound and saw the lungs and heart. What suffering he endured for a while, but not long. He was soon dead. I remember he begged to be killed that he might be put out of his misery.

Another bright young fellow, named Derrett, also from Company E, was hit in the forehead with a "minnie ball" and instantly killed. He was the youngest of three brothers in that company.

Another instance: a man was walking along the works when he was struck by a "minnie ball" and instantly killed.

Another case: we had niches cut into the wall large enough for a man to sit in, and he was thus protected on three sides. One morning a soldier was sitting in one of these niches when a shell, thrown up, on turning downward, assumed a perpendicular line to the earth, and in its descent struck this soldier sitting in the niche on top of the head and went on, crushing his head and seemingly exploding about middle or center of his chest. He was literally blown into bits, scattered to the four winds. I recollect joining in the hunt for the fragments of his body, but little of it was found. These were daily occurrences -things of that sort.

At one time Capt. A. C. Greene of Company F from Butler County was in command of an expedition of picked men for the purpose of dislodging Yankees from a certain position. Capt. Greene was selected because of his coolness under such circumstances. Among the number of men he selected was Isaac A. Brown, of Company G, now living in Dolomite, in this country. Brown was known as a soldier and a man of undoubtful courage and coolness in battle.

On another occasion Capt. H. P. Walker and a number of his company were selected to charge a certain point and take it from the enemy. I heard the officer when he gave the order and told him to select the men from his company, Capt. Walker turned to me and said: "Jones, will you go?" I said, "Yes, if you will lead." W. E. Ross, John P. Willoughby, now chief of the land department of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad: I. A. Brown and several others. I do not now remember the others selected. I stop here to say that I never knew a better soldier than John P. Willoughby -strong, hardy, able to endure, full of courage and coolness in battle. He could always be depended on.

I remember we got ready to move. The spot where we were to go was pointed out. I said to some of the boys, "We will all be killed before we get there." It certainly was a dangerous place to go, and yet we were ready. Just as an order came from Gen. Gibson to Capt. Walker countermanding the first order. I never was gladder in my life.

SEIGE OF SPANISH FORT

September 14, 1905:

And thus the siege went on. Day and night we were in constant peril. If a man only lifted his hand above the breastworks a Yankee would take a crack at it. We had port holes just near the top of our works, through which we could look and through which we could thrust our rifles and shoot, and we also watched very closely, and I have an idea that many Yankees were killed by our sharp-shooters.

We spent our time in strengthening our protection and in perfecting our bomb-proofs. The cooking was all done down under the brow of a small hill in our rear and near the water's edge.

Our surgeon stayed there and our assistant stayed up on the fighting line. This was Dr. Shepperd. Dr. Shepperd said he would like to see the law that compelled the assistant to stay on the fighting line and allowed the surgeon to stay down under the hill, and he said if there was such a law he favored its repeal. He still kept up his dodging, and thus afforded much amusement for some of the boys.

We had forts or heavy batteries along the line at intervals of 200 yards. Some of these guns were huge pieces indeed. They would carry a shell weighing sixty pounds. When these monster shells went crashing through the enemy's camp it left destruction in its wake.

We began the construction of "a way to escape" in case anything should happen that would force us to evacuate the place. This was done by constructing a plank walk over the marsh. This marsh extended from the upper part of the fort toward Blakeley, and was half a mile wide or wider. There was some growth on it and some turfy substance, but the marsh was watery and so soft that it was impossible to walk in it.

Sometimes we could find a place where we could jump from turf to turf, but if you missed it in the jump you might go to your waist or deeper. It was intended to extend this walk to near Blakeley, where we might get boats to Mobile. We had a force at Blakeley which we hoped would be sufficient if anything made it necessary for us to leave Spanish Fort by the "gangway." But this way of escape was never finished, and in the end proved a veritable "boomerang" for us.

We did not have enough to man the fort as it ought to have been done, not by half. We had only men enough to fill the trenches three or four feet apart. We had no opportunity to sleep, only as a fellow would drop down and go to sleep without being told. In fact, we were supposed to be always on duty. There was no time announced to eat or sleep. You just did these things as you could.

Rations were scarce and when you undertook to eat what you had a shot from the enemy was liable to disturb you and knock your appetite out of you. I have seen men killed with their mouths full of food. I have seen other men killed while they were asleep. There was absolutely no relief or time given to rest and refreshment.

We had a trench dug in the ground some thirty yards in front of our works and holes dug large enough to hold about four men. We went into these places about 8 o'clock at night and stayed until 8 o'clock next night. When daylight dawned on us in these holes or vedette posts we were bottled up until darkness came again. The enemy was not seventy yards away, and if you raised yourself above the ground you would be shot certain.

Under cover of darkness the enemy would attempt to remove our obstructions, so that they might the more easily reach us in a charge. We always caught them, for we were on the alert. One night we heard a rustling among our defenses. We crawled out to investigate, and found three blue coats working away trying to move or turn our "abates." We got two of them. The other took his chance running through the bush, logs, sharpened limbs, etc. We dared not shoot, for the blaze of our guns would reveal our position to the enemy, and we were on top of the ground, so we preferred to take the other two inside and let the third go.

You must live twenty-four hours on what you carried with you on vedette. I had an experience that was rather stirring one night and day on this vedette line. Being corporal I was in charge of one of the vedette posts. My only companions were two boys, fresh recruits just from home. These boys had never been under fire. My mess-mate, W. E. Ross, and I had one canteen of water in common. In going on duty that night we got separated, and I did not notice the fact that I had no water until after daylight next morning. I inquired of the boys and found that they were in the same fix. There was a good chance to suffer for water before the day was over. The only food I had was raw fat bacon and corn bread, cooked with nothing in it but salt and water.

In order to escape thirst I decided not to eat. I very nearly stuck to my purpose. I was kept so busy dodging shells and bullets all day that I did not get hungry or thirsty. We were in a hole in the ground much the size and shape of a common grave, with some large logs piled up on the side next to the enemy. On these logs the dirt out of the pit was thrown. Just about twenty yards to our rear we had a fort with five large guns in it. Among the number was the now famous "Lady Slocum," carrying a sixty-pound shell. About seventy yards in our front was a Yankee battery or fort with several large guns.

My position was precisely between these two forts, and when either fired a shot, it passed directly over me and the two boys. No one who has not had experience can give any idea of the concussion that results. The men who operate the guns never remain anywhere to the front, but spring back to the rear and hold their fingers thrust in their ears tightly to prevent the awful sound from making them deaf, and even then these gunners often bleed at the ears.

Every time one of these guns went off the earth seemed to give way and I seemed to be lifted six inches from the ground and allowed to fall back rather suddenly. We endured these shots at intervals during the day until about 3 p. m. when these two forts decided to engage in an artillery duel. This lasted for an hour.

All the guns of both forts seemed to be doing their best to do all they could. There was something like I imagine would be if a dozen earthquakes were turned loose. I was bouncing like a rubber ball, or rather the earth was dancing under me. In the meantime, the balls were striking the logs and dirt and knocking them into the pit and filling it up and we were getting dangerously near the surface.

There was a volley and a momentary lull, and then another volley from both batteries, and here I and the boys would go bouncing up and down without our consent. And these boys, poor little fellows, how awfully scared they were. How they did pray. I laughed, and if I had been killed I would have been laughing.

They would say things about like this: "I do hope and trust they will quit." " I do pray to the Lord they won't shoot any more." "Oh, Lord, have mercy." I said, "There ain't no use in praying. It won't do any good. You had as well hush." Boom! Boom! would break loose again, and the boys would get down to their prayers and say, "I wish I were at home." And again in the meantime I had to pull them from under the dirt and debris thrown in on us. I never knew the names of these boys, but I think they were from Coffee or Covington Counties, or down that way. When the duel ceased I was almost as deaf as a stump.

LEAVING SPANISH FORT

September 21, 1905:

For a number of years I found that on taking a slight cold the roaring of those awful cannon would return and roar to my discomfort.

There has been a lot said about both armies at Spanish Fort charging a lot of cattle which appeared between the line in the night time and that many cattle were killed, and that the stench became terrific. Nothing of that sort ever occurred under my observation. I never heard of any cattle being shot under such circumstances, nor was there ever a stench that came to my nostrils. I am certain that such a thing did not occur after the siege set in.

Our chance to go and come to and from Mobile was by boat in the night. The boat would come as noiselessly as possible and discharging its cargo, return in the same manner. Even then the Yankees would sometimes fire at the boat and throw over shells dangerously near her, but I think it was never hit. The fleet of Yankee gunboats continued to amuse themselves from day to day by throwing shells at us that did not reach us. They were in plain view, but too far off, and afraid to venture near on account of our torpedoes; so our transports had nothing to fear except the land batteries, and they could only fire at the noise.

It was evident that the heavy Federal force that was operating against us would in the end win out over our small force. It is now necessary to return to that marsh, which we had left unprotected on our left and through which we had not built any works, because we thought it impenetrable by mortals. But somehow the Yankees did penetrate it. It has been understood that they carried narrow strips of plank or rails or poles and threw them across the turf, and thus got so far in that they had us on the flank, and before we knew it they were pressing us from that direction, and to such an extent that we were unable to hold them in check long.

When we discovered this was too late to fortify against them. As strong a force as possible was brought to bear on them, and they, were held in check until night, when we took the unfinished "way of escape" we had partly built through the marsh. The picket line must be sacrificed in order that the main force might escape.

The Eighteenth took to the plank way among the first. Soon the troops reached the end of the plank way, and with the marsh in front of us and the enemy in the rear of us we were in a desperate situation. There was no alternative but to plunge in and take our chances in the marsh. The irresponsible Dr. Shepperd was in the crowd with a jug of whiskey. He was not a very good jumper, and being burdened with his jug he soon became hopelessly mired. He called for help and told the boys that he would divide up with them when he got out. The boys would pull each other out, when one would miss the tussock, at which he jumped and sank waist deep in the mud and water. When they finally reached a boat and crossed to Mobile, they were the very essence of mud, black mud.

Our loss in Spanish Fort in prisoners and munitions of war was very heavy. It was necessary to leave the picket line, in order, if possible, that the main force be held in check until we could get our little army out of the fort and over to Mobile, or at least on the boats. It was evident that as soon as they discovered our withdrawal they would charge from the marsh and thus place themselves behind our works. It would then be impossible for the picket line to escape capture. I take it that about one-third of our force was captured outright when we left Spanish Fort.

The Eighteenth was captured and taken to prison on Ship Island. About the time the last of our force got aboard the boat at or near Blakeley they were discovered by the enemy. They at once charged, capturing what troops remained in the trenches at Blakeley. We had been in the siege at Spanish Fort, according to my count, fifteen days, and almost constantly under fire.

The loss of the Eighteenth had been considerable, but the exact number is not known by me. Company G lost three one night by the explosion of a shell. We were fighting away for days after Gen. Lee surrendered.

There had been much rain, and especially up the state from Mobile, and both the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers were overflowed. The only thing now to do was to evacuate Mobile. Many citizens also wanted to leave. All the transports in the waters leading to Mobile had to come up the river to avoid capture. There was a great fleet of transports in the upper bay. All guns and ammunition were left in the fort.

Among the number was a gun which had acquired the pseudonym of "Lady Slocum," in honor of the wife of Capt. Slocum, who had been in command of the battery. This gun on the day of the famous artillery duel, referred to in another place, had received a shot, knocking off one of her arms, which put her out of business until this day. The gun lay in Spanish Fort a number of years, when a movement was put on foot to take the gun to Mobile and put it in one of her parks. When this movement became known, the relatives of Capt. Slocum got up a movement to have the gun carried to New Orleans. Both movements were dropped until 1899, when New Orleans secured "Lady Slocum," and her remains repose in that city and serve as a reminder of the good service she rendered to the Lost Cause.

Pardon this digression. The movement of the entire army of the Department of the Gulf was toward Sumter County, stopping at last about Cuba Station, on a road leading from Meridian east toward Selma.

GUARD DUTY AT DEMOPOLIS

September 28, 1905:

Again we settled down to wait results. We had plenty to eat and there seemed no disposition to drill or do anything of the kind.

Presently we began to hear rumors that Lee had surrendered. Most of us thought that these rumors were wild and without foundation, but there seemed to be an air of mystery about everything. Rations were given us without stint, and the men spent their time in going from camp to camp working off sells, etc, on their comrades.

For instance, Dave Downey walked up to a crowd and said, "Boys, the Confederacy has run the blockade with forty thousand bales of cotton and laid it all out in tin." "In tin?" said Joe Rutledge. "Yes." "What in the world do they want with so much tin?" "To make spouts for the Confederacy to go up in," was Downey's reply. That was a good one, and at once the crowd scattered, each one bent on getting the sell off on some one else. The fun was great on things like that. But, finally one evening a call was made for the troops to assemble at brigade headquarters to hear addresses from the different ones.

We assembled, all feeling that something unusual was about to take place. Col. Bush Jones who was at the time commanding Holtzclaw's Brigade, mounted some sort of box, and after securing attention, and with apparent and unmistakable emotion, he announced that General Lee had surrendered several days previous and that Joe E. Johnston had also surrendered and that the Confederacy had collapsed. He then proceeded amid profound silence to deliver an address full of patriotism and wisdom. Strong men bowed their heads in sorrow, and tears trickled down the cheeks of many.

I remember that when I fully realized what the news meant I drew apart from the throng, and seated on a log I wept as I had not done for many a day. It seemed that it was impossible, that it could not be, and how were we ever to endure Yankee domination.

I slept but little that night. It was perhaps next day that the 18th received orders to proceed to Demopolis, Ala., and take charge of the town and public property until the victors should arrive. Col. _?_ was commandant of the post. I was put at the head of a detail to go to the depot and take charge of the property stored there. This consisted of meat, flour, clothing, hats, shoes and many other things too numerous to mention. These things were in large quantities.

Many people knew all was to be given to the Yankees when they arrived, and they could not see why they could not have the stuff instead of the Yankees. So I had constant appeals from women, men, officers, soldiers, negroes and all sorts of people asking that they might be allowed to take a piece of meat or a sack of flour or a bale of cotton. I had been placed there as a soldier to discharge certain duties.

I never had been in the four years that I had served as such had any charge brought against me as a soldier. Had never been under arrest or anything of the sort. I felt my record had been an honorable one in the army, and as I said to a lady who was pleading with me to allow her to take some of the government stuff, I desired to go out of the service without a stain on my record as a soldier.

There were plenty bales of cotton just outside of the building and just back of the house where this lady lived. Her plan was to have some negroes she owned to roll the bales into her house and it was understood that the first men who would hit the town when the Yankees came would be the cotton buyers. She would sell the cotton and make her way to Tennessee, from where she had refuge. She offered to divide with me but I told her no.

Finally her importunities became so urgent, she representing that her husband was in Virginia, and she away from home and without money, that I told her I would look the other way and if she could get the cotton all right. Later I discovered that she had some in the house.

I was somewhat anxious to learn how she came out in her venture, so when I returned from Meridian after I had paroled I went by to see her, but she, cotton and all were gone. We remained in Demopolis some two weeks, doing police duty and looking after the government property.

As an instance of the conditions under which we were living, we give the following: for instance, a sack of flour sold for five hundred dollars, a wool hat, very coarse and rough, sold for $25. I had some fun out of the crowd, however. There were shoes and hats and clothes, and the boys decided to scatter a lot of these things into the crowd. There was certainly a scramble.

I was informed one night that there would be an effort made to charge the building. Sure enough the crowd gathered and some demonstrations were made. I told the crowd that the men had loaded guns and that they were instructed to shoot and they would, but if they would go and get an order from the colonel, they might have all that was in there so far as I was concerned. They dispersed and did not return.

Efforts were made to carry the cotton that lay around the town, but in most instances, it was prevented.

PAROLE AT MERIDIAN

October 5, 1905

I was notified one night that something suspicious was going on at the livery stable. So I sent to the colonel for fifteen more men, and we marched around to the stable and told the parties that we had come to search the premises. The boys had an idea that there was whiskey mixed up in it some way; so they turned the hay and corn and other things topsy-turvy in their diligent search for it.

Finally, they began to range outside in the hedges and down in a common. There was an old gentleman sitting in front of the stable holding his horse and watching our movements. A negro with six mules hitched to a wagon stood in the street nearby. In searching the hedges and common we flushed about ten negroes lying on the ground, and near by was a big pile of cotton bales. When the negroes were discovered, the man called out "run!" the old man mounted his horse and the driver his team, and away they went-negroes and all.

When they had gotten away the stable man told us he was in no way interested in the matter, except that he had promised not to tell, and that the old gentleman was after a load of government cotton. I was always sorry that he did not get it. The liveryman laughed at the boys for hunting whisky so diligently.

A major, whose name I do not recall, came one evening and told me that he was commander of engineers and that his home was in Virginia, and that numbers of his slaves had been with him as refugees, and that among them was an old woman whom he wanted to carry back to Virginia with him; that he was out of money and must make some arrangement to get himself and the old woman back home. He said he had made arrangements to sell flour if I would let him have it; that he would send forty negro men that night to carry it away. His appeal was almost pathetic, and I half consented.

So a little after dark I saw about forty negro men come up and stopped outside the depot. I was waiting a chance to let them in at the back door. There was one fellow in my squad who was extremely contrary. He discovered the gang and reported it to me, and said he was going to keep an eye on them. I saw then that the game was up. So late in the night I dismissed the gang and told them to tell their master that I could not use them. I heard nothing further from him.

I received a fake order one day from Col. Hunly to bring my squad and come to headquarters. The fellow who brought the order was a soldier I did not know, and his manner impressed me that he was nervous. I was suspicious, so I said, "I will walk up and see the colonel and then come back after the men." I saw large crowds loitering around in sight. I went away and saw Col. Hunly, who said he never issued such an order. When I returned I was told that the last seen of the courier he was going in the direction of the river-swamp.

We were looking every day for the Yankee gunboats to come up the river and take charge. The river was still swollen from much rain, so it was said that war vessels could reach Demopolis. Finally we heard "a mighty noise down the river where the Lincoln gunboats lay," as the old song we sang in those days went, and as the boat, which was nothing but a transport, was landing at the wharf. We packed up and marched away.

There was no railroad bridge or any other, so we marched down the river some three or four miles, crossed in a boat and got a train for Meridian, Miss. -that is, a freight.

Arriving, we went into camp a little east of the town about night. Next morning about 8 o'clock we were ordered to fall-in. Col. Hunly took his position as usual at dress parade. After roll-call, Col. Hunly said to us: "Fellow soldiers, I have caused you to parade and answer roll-call for the last time. Henceforth, you are no longer soldiers, but citizens - citizens of a down-trodden country. But, fellow soldiers, you leave a record behind you of which you can well be proud. The Eighteenth has left a blaze of glory in its wake. As you have been true and brave on the battlefield, let me exhort you to be honorable and loyal as citizens at home. I feel that this is a sad parting, but it is mixed with a joyous prospect at the home life again. I want to thank you men for the loyalty and courtesy you have always shown me as your Commanding Officer. You will now march with me into the town, where you will turn over your guns and receive your parole."

Many eyes were wet with tears as Col. Hunly ceased to speak.

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Appendix - compiled by Alan Pitts

18TH ALABAMA VOLUNTEER INFANTRY REGIMENT

CLAYTON'S BRIGADE, STEWART'S DIVISION

ARMY OF TENNESSEE

Organized at Camp Johnston near Auburn, Alabama, on September 4, 1861. Staff appointments were made by September 9, 1861.

Edward C. Bullock - Colonel

Eli S. Shorter - Lieutenant Colonel

James T. Holtzclaw - Major

William L. Hamner - Surgeon

John B. Barnette - Assistant Surgeon

Robert C. Forsyth - Commissary

G. F. Yelverton - Quartermaster

Bowling W. Starke - Adjutant

Company "A" of Coffee County "Bullock Guards"

Company "B" of Covington County "Covington Hunters"

Company "C" of Jefferson County "Cahaba Valley Rangers"

Company "D" of Coosa County "Coosa Farmers"

Company "E" of Tuscaloosa County "Confederate Stars"

Company "F" of Butler County "Tom Watts Rifles"

Company "G" of Jefferson County "Yancey Rangers"

Company "H" of Pike County "A. B. Moore Invincibles"

Company "I" of Shelby County "Curry Guards"

Company "K" of Talladega County "Confederate Blues"

All companies enlisted for three years or the war. The regiment surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

FIELD OFFICERS

Edward Courtney Bullock. Appointed Colonel September 4, 1861. Died of disease at Montgomery, Alabama, on December 23, 1861.

Eli Sims Shorter. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel September 4, 1861. Promoted Colonel February 15, 1862, to rank from December 23,1861. Resigned on May 10, 1862, claiming health disabilities.

James T. Holtzclaw. Appointed Major September 4, 1861. Promoted Lieutenant Colonel February 15, 1862, to rank from December 23, 1861. Wounded at Shiloh, Tennessee, on April 6, 1862. Promoted Colonel July 10, 1862, to rank form May 10, 1862. Injured at Chickamauga, Georgia, on September 19, 1863. Appointed Brigadier General July 7, 1864.

William M. Moxley. Appointed Major February 15, 1862, to rank from December 23, 1861. Resigned on April 21, 1862.

James Strawbridge. formerly Major of the 1st Louisiana Infantry Regiment; appointed acting Colonel on April 13, 1862, and assumed command on April 24, 1862. Relieved about July 10, 1862.

Bryan M. Thomas. Appointed acting Major April 22, 1862. Relieved on July 1, 1862; returned to duty as 1st Lieutenant and A.I.G. (Assistant Inspector General) of Withers's Division.

Richard F. Inge. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel July 1, 1862, to rank from May 10, 1862. Wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, September 20, 1863. Died on September 28, 1863.

Peter F. Hunley. Appointed Major July 1, 1862, to rank from May 10, 1862. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel November 21, 1863, to rank form September 23, 1863. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

Shep. Ruffin. Appointed Major November 21, 1863, to rank from September 28, 1863. Killed at Atlanta, Georgia, July 22, 1864.

Augustus C. Greene. Appointed Major March 19, 1865. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 12, 1865.

STAFF OFFICERS

William L. Hamner. Appointed Surgeon September 9, 1861. Resigned on November 23, 1861.

Carlisle Terry. Appointed Surgeon February 17, 1862, to rank from January 10, 1862. Relieved; appointed Chief Medical Officer of Withers's Division on March 4, 1862.

Samuel P. Hunt. Assigned as Surgeon on March 4, 1862. Appointed Surgeon April 17, 1862, to rank from December 2, 1861. Frequently acted as senior medical officer of Jackson's Brigade. Resigned on April 3, 1863, citing inability to support his family on army pay.

Benjamin H. Rutland. Assigned as Surgeon on August 2, 1863; transferred from the 32nd/58th Alabama Infantry Regiment (consolidated). Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 11, 1865.

John B. Barnette. Appointed Assistant Surgeon September 9, 1861, paid from September 18, 1861. Appointed Surgeon February 5, 1862, to rank from October 26, 1861. Captured at Shiloh, Tennessee, April 7, 1862. Exchanged July 1862. Relieved; assigned to Clayton Hospital at Forsyth, Georgia, September 1863.

Leven Wilson Shepherd. Assigned as Assistant Surgeon December 1861. Resigned on March 17, 1862. Acting Assistant Surgeon since April 1, 1863; officially reappointed on November 3, 1864.

Frank O. Lockwood. A civilian on contract as Assistant Surgeon assigned to duty on March 18, 1862. Wounded at Blackland, Mississippi, June 3, 1862. Paid through August 18, 1862.

H. Lee Custer. Assigned as Assistant Surgeon on April 29, 1862; transferred from the 32nd Tennessee Infantry Regiment. Resigned on September 3, 1862.

Elisha John Kirksey. Appointed Assistant Surgeon on September 26, 1862, to rank from July 14, 1862. Relieved; transferred to the 9th Alabama Infantry Battal ion on March 19, 1863.

Robert C. Forsyth. Appointed Captain and A.C.S. (Assistant Commissary) September 11, 1861; paid from September 16, 1861. Relieved as brigade commissary on February 27, 1862. Resigned on April 1, 1862, to accept appointment as Lieutenant Colonel of the 1st Alabama Artillery Battalion.

William H. Ogbourne. Appointed Captain and A.C.S. (Assistant Commissary) May 23, 1862, to rank from May 1, 1862. Relieved on June 30, 1863, by act of Congress abolishing regimental commissaries.

William H. Cohill. Appointed A.A.C.S. (Acting Assistant Commissary) as 2nd Lieutenant of company "I" on Septmeber 1, 1862. Served through October 31, 1862.

G. F. Yelverton. Appointed Captain and A.Q.M. (Assistant Quatermaster) September 11, 1861. Apparently declined commission.

Thomas W. Cowles. Appointed Captain and A.Q.M. (Assistant Quartermaster) October 1, 1861. Served as brigade quartermaster from October 13, 1862. Resigned on December 13, 1862.

Sheriff Brewster. Appointed A.A.Q.M. (Acting Assistant Quartermaster) as 2nd Lieutenant of Company "L" in late April 1862. Resigned on May 27, 1862, claiming physical disability.

Alwin J. Kidd. Appointed A.A.Q.M. (Acting Assistant Quartermaster) as 2nd Lieutenant of Company "D" October 13, 1862. Served into November 1862; also issued stores during late August.

William B. Hoyt. Appointed Captain and A.Q.M. (Assistant Quartermaster) April 11, 1863, to rank from December 25, 1862. Apparently served from March 1, 1863. Assigned as A.A.Q.M. (Acting Assistant Quartermaster) of Holtzclaw's Brigade on July 7, 1864; officially relieved on September 27, 1864.

Bowling W. Starke. Appointed Adjutant as 1st Liutenant of Company "A" on August 12, 1861. Appointed Captain of company "A" on March 1, 1862.

Orville A. Stringer. Appointed Adjutant as 1st Lieutenant of Company "D" on May 12, 1862. Elected Captain of Company "B" on July 21, 1862.

John P. C. Whitehead, Jr. Appointed 1st Lieutenant and Adjutant October 4, 1862, to rank from July 24, 1862. Appointed Acting Aide-de-Camp for Colonel Cumming on October 13, 1862. Appointed Captain and A.A.G. (Assistant Adjutant General) of Stovall's Brigade on June 13, 1863, to rank from May 24, 1863.

William O. Spencer, Jr. Appointed Acting Adjutant as 1st Lieutenant of Company "C" on October 15, 1862. Returned to his company on December 31, 1862.

John J. Winston. Appointed 1st Lieutenant and Adjutant on June10, 1863; had been Captain of Company "F", 38th Alabama Infantry Regiment. Resigned on December 15, 1863, to serve in the cavalry.

Robert P. Baker. Appointed Acting Adjutant as 2nd Lieutenant of Company "K" December 15, 1863. Promoted 1st Lieutenant June 1864, to rank from April 27, 1864. Appointed A.A.A.G. (Acting Assistant Adjutant General) of Holtzclaw's Brigade July 7, 1864. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 11, 1865.

Thomas H. Capers. Appointed Chaplain September 23, 1861; paid from October 18, 1861. Resigned on April 14, 1862.

John H. Willoughby. Appointed Chaplain May 8, 1862, to rank from April 13, 1862. Captured at Missionary Ridge, Tennessee, November 25, 1863. Exchanged at Nashville, Tennessee, during January 1864.

David L. Cleveland. Appointed 1st Lieutenant and Ensign May 13, 1864, to rank from April 28, 1864. Being absent from duty, the regimental commander withdrew his appointment on September 28, 1864.

John Charles Roberts. Appointed 1st Lieutenant and Ensign November 7, 1864, to rank from October 31, 1864. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

John M. McNab. Appointed Cadet November 23, 1861. Resigned June 5, 1862.

Joseph F. Johnston. Appointed Cadet November 20, 1861, to rank from September 4, 1861. Served as A.A.Q.M. (Acting Assistant Quartermaster) November 22, 1861, to January 20, 1862. Elected 2nd Lieutenant of Company "I" on June 20, 1862. Served as A.A.Q.M. December 25, 1862, to March 1, 1863.

COMPANIES AND THEIR CAPTAINS

Company "A" of Coffee County "Bullock Guards"

Captain William M. Moxley. Appointed Major February 15, 1862, to rank from December 23, 1861.

Captain Bowling W. Starke. Promoted Captain on March 1, 1862. Wounded and disabled at Shiloh, Tennessee, April 6, 1862. Resigned on July 19, 1862, to resume his duties as Probate Judge of Coffee County.

Captain Joseph H. Justice. Promoted Captain on May 25, 1862. Returned to previous rank of 1st Lieutenant on July 21, 1862. Promoted Captain August 23, 1862, to rank from July 19, 1862. Killed at Chickamauga, Georgia, September 19, 1863.

Captain Noah O. Hutchinson. Promoted Captain November 1863, to rank from September 19, 1863. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

Organized at Elba, Alabama, July 4, 1861. Accepted in Confederate service on July 15, 1861, and left Elba one week later. Formally enrolled at Camp Johnston, Alabama, on August 7, 1861.

Company "B" of Covington County "Covington Hunters"

Captain James T. Brady. Resigned on February 23, 1862.

Captain S. D. McClelen. Promoted Captain February 24, 1862. Resigned on August 28, 1862, claiming to be overage and deficient in training for military command.

Captain Orville A. Stringer. Elected Captain on July 21, 1862. Mortally wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, September 20, 1863.

Captain Thomas Hardwick. Promoted Captain on September 19, 1863. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

Company organized July 9, 1861, and departed Andalusia, Alabama, on July 26, 1861. Enrolled at Camp Johnston, Alabama, August 7, 1861.

Company "C" of Jefferson County "Cahaba Valley Rangers"

Captain James M. Oliver. Resigned July 4, 1862, due to disability.

Captain James M. McLaughlin. Promoted Captain July 20, 1862, to rank from July 1, 1862. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

Organized on July 7, 1861, at Cedar Grove, Alabama, and accepted in Confederate service on July 24, 1861. Left on July 24, 1861, and enrolled at Camp Johnston, Alabama, on August 31, 1861.

Company "D" of Coosa County "Coosa Farmers"

Captain Guy Smith. Resigned February 23, 1862.

Captain Charles M. Cox. Promoted Captain February 29, 1862. Resigned because of continual health on December 29, 1862; paid through February 7, 1863.

Captain J. Henry Hammond. Promoted Captain January 1863 to rank from December 23, 1862. Mortally wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, September 20, 1863.

Captain George M. Williams. Promoted Captain September 19, 1863. Captured near Franklin, Tennessee, on December 18, 1864. Released at Fort Delaware, Delaware, June 17, 1865.

This company organized on July 12, 1861, and was accepted in Confederate service, July 16, 1861. Apparently members departed for Camp Johnston, Alabama, July 30, 1861, and enlisted on August 2, 1861.

Company "E" of Tuscaloosa County "Confederate Stars"

Captain Richard F. Inge. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel July 1, 1862, to rank from May 10, 1862.

Captain Simeon C. Wilkerson. Promoted Captain on July 1, 1862, to rank from May 10, 1862. Wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, September 19, 1863. Captured at Missionary Ridge, Tennessee, November 25, 1863. Released at Johnson's Island, Ohio, June 13, 1863.

Organized on July 13, 1861, and accepted in Confederate service at Carthage, Alabama, on July 27, 1861. Left Tuscaloosa, Alabama, for Camp Johnston, Alabama, on August 2, 1861, and enlisted there on August 31, 1861.

Company "F" of Butler County "Tom Watts Rifles"

Captain H. Clay Armstrong. Dropped from the rolls on May 10, 1862, while recovering from illness. Reinstated with no loss in pay on August 27, 1862. Resigned on September 10, 1862, in order not to displace other company officers.

Captain Augustus C. Greene. Appointed Captain May 10, 1862; promotion validated on September 10, 1862, to rank from August 19, 1862. Wounded at Jonesboro, Georgia, August 31, 1864. Appointed Major on March 19, 1865.

Organized on July 17, 1861, at Butler Springs, Alabama. Left for Camp Johnston, Alabama, on July 29, 1861, and accepted in Confederate service on August 2, 1861. Enlisted on August 12, 1861.

Company "G" of Jefferson County "Yancey Rangers"

Captain James Haughey. Resigned for health reasons, May 27, 1862.

Captain H. P. Walker. Elected Captain on July 23, 1862; transferred from Company "E" on June 16, 1862. Paroled at Demopolis, Alabama, June 8, 1865.

This company organized at Jonesboro, Alabama, on July 7, 1861, and received orders to report to Camp Johnston, Alabama, on July 29, 1861. Actual departure date was Agugust 19, 1861. Officers and men were accepted in Confederate service on August 31, 1861.

Company "H" of Pike County "A. B. Moore Invincibles"

Captain William L. Hamner. Appointed Surgeon September 9, 1861.

Captain Shep. Ruffin. Elected Captain September 24, 1861. Discharged for reasons of health on May 7, 1862; commission restored by the Secretary of War, effective October 20, 1862. Appointed Major November 21, 1863, to rank from September 28, 1863.

Captain Sherman K. Fielder. Promoted Captain May 7, 1862. Returned to previous rank of 1st Lieutenant on October 20, 1862.

Captain James B. Darby. Promoted Captain November 21, 1863, to rank from September 28, 1863. Wounded and disabled at New Hope Church, Georgia, May 25, 1864. Assigned to Alabama Reserves on February 3, 1865. Paroled at Montgomery, Alabama, June 2, 1865.

Organized at Troy, Alabama, on July 19, 1861. Departed Troy on July 29, 1861, and enlisted in Confederate service on August 7, 1861, at Camp Johnston, Alabama.

Company "I" of Shelby County "Curry Cuards"

Captain Peter F. Hunley. Wounded at Shiloh, Tennessee, April 5, 1862. Appointed Major on July 1, 1862, to rank from May 10, 1862.

Captain John M. Mickle. Promoted Captain July 18, 1862, to rank from May 25, 1862. Appointed A.A.A.G. (Acting Adjutant General) of Cumming's Brigade, October 1862. Wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, on September 19, 1863. Apparently died March 1864.

Captain Daniel M. Martin. Promoted Captain June 1864. Surrendered at Meridian, Mississippi, May 10, 1865.

Commanded by Captain Thomas H. Brasher, this company was received in state service as the "Shelby Invincibles" on April 25, 1861. Accepted in Confederate service at Harpersville, Alabama, August 19, 1861, members mustered at Camp Johnston, Alabama, on August 26, 1861.

Company "K" of Talladega County "Confederate Blues"

Captain John J. Calhoun. Resigned April 23, 1862.

Captain H. Clay Stone. Promoted Captain April 23, 1862. Wounded at Chickamauga, Georgia, on September 19, 1863. Resigned on April 27, 1864, citing accidental gunshot wound received during October of 1863.

Captain Thomas M. Riser. Promoted Captain June 1864, to rank from April 27, 1864. Captured near Franklin, Tennessee, on December 17, 1864. Released at Johnson's Island, Ohio, June 17, 1865.

Departed Alpine on August 3, 1861, and enrolled in Confederate service at Camp Johnston, Alabama, August 16, 1861. Command temporarily merged with Company "E" from April through July on 1862.

Company "L" of St. Clair County

Captain Levi Lloyd. Resigned due to disability on May 25, 1862.

Captain Bush Jones. Elected Captain July 21, 1862. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel, 9th Alabama Infantry Battalion, March 2, 1863.

General Braxton Bragg ordered Brewster's Company "A" and Lloyd's Company "G" of the 9th Alabama Infantry Battalion to be consolidated on April 19, 1862. Both had organized at Ashville, Alabama, for twelve months service, Brewster's on December 20, 1861, and Lloyd's on March 1, 1862. Originally designated Company "K", it reorganized for three years or the war on July 21, 1862. The company designation changed to "L" about September 30, 1862. This organization was dissolved and Company "A" and Company "G" of the 9th Alabama Infantry Battalion reconstituted on March 2, 1863.

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From the Heart of the Heart of Dixie Confederate Soldiers from Shelby County, Alabama

Battle of Spanish Fort - Blakeley

Letters of James A. Durrett - Company "E" 18th Alabama Infantry

Letters of Abram Glazener - Company "I" 18th Alabama Infantry