Thirteen Months in the Rebel Army by William G. Stevenson

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[Frontispiece illustration: COUNCIL OF WAR BEFORE
THE BATTLE OF PITTSBURG LANDING. (Page 145.)]

THIRTEEN MONTHS IN THE REBEL ARMY

[By William G. Stevenson]

Being
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL ADVENTURES
in
THE INFANTRY, ORDNANCE, CAVALRY, COURIER,
and
HOSPITAL SERVICES;
with
AN EXHIBITION OF THE POWER, PURPOSES,
EARNESTNESS, MILITARY DESPOTISM, AND
DEMORALIZATION OF THE SOUTH.

BY AN IMPRESSED NEW YORKER.

NEW YORK:
A. S. BARNES & BURR,
51 & 53 JOHN-STREET.
1862.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862,
BY A. S. BARNES & BURR,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
for the Southern District of New York.

RENNIE, SHEA & LINDSAY,
STEREOTYPERS AND ELECTROTYPER
81, 83, & 85 CENTRE-STREET,
New York.

GEORGE W. WOOD, PRINTER,
No. 2 Dutch-st., N.Y.

* * * * *

[Transcriber's note: The following appeared before
the frontispiece and title page in the original book.]

A VIEW OF THIS BOOK
IN PROOF-SHEETS.

As our last form was going to press we received the
following note from a Minister of the Gospel of this
city, whose name is widely known, and as widely
respected, both in Europe and America.
A.S. BARNES & BURR, Publishers.
NEW YORK, Oct. 1, 1862.

Inscrutable "Dixie!" your "adversary has written a book," as
damaging to Rebeldom as the Monitor to the Merrimac. The
secrets of Rebel counsels and resources have been well
concealed, while National plans have been penetrated by
traitorous eyes and revealed by treasonable tongues. At last
the vail has been uplifted, and we have more of valuable,
reliable information, as to the internal condition of
Jeff-dom and its armies, than has leaked out since the fall
of Sumter.

"Thirteen Months in the Rebel Army" gave "An Impressed New
Yorker" rare opportunities of knowing what is to be known
outside of the Richmond Cabinet. Let a sharp-witted young
man make his way from Memphis to Columbus and Bowling Green,
and thence to Nashville, Selma, Richmond, and Chattanooga;
put him into the battles of Belmont and Shiloh; bring him in
contact with Morgan, Polk, Breckenridge, and a bevy of
Confederate generals; employ him consecutively in the
infantry, ordnance, cavalry, courier, and hospital services;
then put a pen in his hand, and if his sketches of men and
things in the land of darkness have not interest and value,
pray what would you read in war-time?

The writer has been favored with the perusal of the
proof-sheets of this remarkable book. Many of its incidents
had had the charm of personal narration from the lips of the
author; but it is only just to say, that the lucid, graphic
style of the author gives all the vividness of personal
description to the scenes and incidents of which he was an
eyewitness. That so many and such varied adventures should
have fallen to the lot of a single person, is passing
strange; and that he should have survived and escaped to
relate them, is, perhaps, yet stranger. That they were all
experienced substantially as related, none will doubt, when
the minute details of name, date, place, and surroundings
are found to be sketched with palpable truthfulness.

The temper of the book is scarcely less noteworthy than its
fund of incident and anecdote. Parson Brownlow's book and
speeches are brimful of invective. He's a good hater,
indeed. He claimed in his Academy of Music speech that, "If
there was any thing on God's earth that he was made for, it
was to pile up epithets against this infernal rebellion!"
_Chacun a son gout._ Our young author has struck a harder
blow at the Confederacy by his damaging facts, than if he
had intensified them with the vocabulary of profanity and
vituperation. There has been more than enough of bitter
words, North and South; it is now a question of strength,
and skill, and endurance. This book will teach us to respect
the energy, while we detest the principles, of this
stupendous rebellion.

* * * * *

PREFACE.

A WORD TO THE READER.

I give to you, in the following pages, a simple narrative of facts.
I have no motive to misrepresent or conceal. I have an honest desire
to describe faithfully and truly what I saw and heard during
thirteen months of enforced service in the Rebel army.

If I should seem to you to speak too favorably of individuals or
occurrences in the South, I beg you to consider that I give
impressions obtained when in the South. If my book has any value it
lies in this very fact, that it gives you an interior view of this
stupendous rebellion, which can not be obtained by one standing in
the North and looking at it only with Northern eyes.

I have confidence in truth; and unwelcome truth, is none the less
truth, and none the less valuable. Sure am I, that if the North had
known the whole truth as to the _power, the unanimity, and the
deadly purpose_ of the leaders in the rebellion, the government
would have been far better prepared for promptly meeting the crisis.
Look then candidly at facts, and give them their true weight.

As I am under no obligation, from duty or honor, to conceal what I
was compelled to see and hear in the South, I tell it frankly;
hoping it may be of value to my bleeding country, I tell it plainly.
I have no cause to love the Confederate usurpation, as will fully
appear, yet I refrain from abusive and denunciatory epithets,
because both my taste and judgment enjoin it.

For the accuracy of names, dates, and places, I rely wholly upon
memory. I kept memoranda during my whole service, but was compelled
to leave every thing when I attempted escape, as such papers then
found in my possession would have secured my certain death; but in
all material things I can promise the accuracy which a retentive
memory secures.

If an apology is needed for the constant recurrence of the personal
pronoun in these pages, let it be said that the recital of personal
incidents, without circumlocution, necessarily compels it.

With this brief word, I invite you to enter with me upon the
Southern service; you can stop when you please, or go with me to the
end, and give a huzza as you see me escape and reach the loyal
lines.

WILLIAM G. STEVENSON.
NEW YORK CITY, Sept. 15th, 1862.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

HOW I VOLUNTEERED.

Object in going to Arkansas. -- Change of Purpose. -- Young
Acquaintances. -- Questioned on Slavery. -- Letter to my Parents.
-- Unfortunate Clause. -- A Midnight Call. -- Warlike
Preparations. -- Good Advice. -- Honor among Lynchers. -- Arrival
at Court of Judge Lynch. -- Character of Jury. -- Trial
commenced. -- Indictment and Argument. -- Excitement increases.
-- Butler Cavins and his Lariat. -- The Crisis. -- The Acquittal.
-- No Safety from it. -- First Impulse and subsequent Reflection.
-- Attempted Escape. -- Night Ride. -- Helena. -- An Uneasy Boat
Ride. -- Memphis. -- "A Blue Jacket." -- Committee of Public
Safety. -- A Surprise. -- Dismissal followed by Unwelcome Letter
and Policeman. -- Recruiting Station. -- Volunteering 15

CHAPTER II.

INFANTRY SERVICE.

Character of our Regiment. -- No Escape. -- A Fixed Resolve. --
Randolph. -- Camp Life. -- Sabbath. -- Father Daly. -- Washing.
-- Fort Wright. -- Grand Defect. -- Rations. -- Stolen Waters. --
Mutiny. -- Sentence. -- Fort Pillow. -- Slaves. -- Aiding the
Rebellion. -- Deep Earnestness of the People. -- Strength of the
Fort. -- "Pillow's Trot Line." -- No Pay, and the Result. --
General Pillow described. -- Columbus, Ky. -- Hard Work. --
Pillow in the Ditch. -- The Batteries. -- Torpedoes. -- Battle of
Belmont. -- False Report. -- Troops cross. -- Untimely Joking. --
The Tide of Battle. -- A Charge. -- Cruelty. -- Victory. -- Why?
-- Loss. -- Burial of the Dead. -- How Not to Kill -- Accident.
-- The Military Bishop 40

CHAPTER III.

ORDNANCE SERVICE.

Transferred to Ordnance. -- Camp Beauregard. -- Was my Oath
binding? -- Resources of the Rebels. -- Cannon stolen. --
Manufactured. -- A Rifling Machine. -- Beauregard's Bells. --
Imported Cannon. -- Running Blockade. -- Silence of Southern
Papers. -- Small-Arms made. -- Altered. -- Abundant. --
Earnestness of all Classes. -- Imported Arms. -- England's
Neutrality. -- Ammunition imported. -- Manufactured. -- Smuggled.
-- A Railroad Episode. -- A Deserting Engineer. -- A New Hand at
the Throttle. -- Caution. -- A Smash Up and Pistols. --
Reconciliation. -- Result of Smash Up. -- Bowling Green. -- Size
of Army. -- Sickness. -- Personal. -- Kindness of Nashville
People. -- Moral and Religious Efforts for the Rebel Army. --
Vices prevalent. -- Seminaries and Schools disbanded 79

CHAPTER IV.

CAVALRY SERVICE.

New Field of Action. -- Promotion. -- Guerrilla Warfare. --
Characteristics. -- Tendencies. -- Captain J.H. Morgan. --
Character. -- Personal Appearance. -- Anecdotes. -- Success. --
Southern Cavalry superior to Northern. -- Advantages. -- Riding
Courier. -- General Johnson evacuates Bowling Green. --
Excitement in Nashville. -- Preparations for Defense. --
Commissary Stores. -- Vandalism. -- Rear Guard. -- Line of
Retreat. -- Dreadful Hardships. -- Losses. -- Forced March. --
Desolation. -- Cause of Retreat. -- Other Counsel. -- Accident.
-- No Union Feeling evident. -- Intolerant yet Sincere 108

CHAPTER V.

COURIER SERVICE.

New Duties. -- Battle approaching. -- Deserters and Scouts. -- A
Providence. -- Position and Forces of the Confederates. -- Orders
to prepare to move. -- My New Position. -- March to the
Battle-field. -- Federals off their Guard. -- Care of the
Confederates against Desertion. -- Council of War. -- A Dreary
Night. -- Awfulness of War. -- The Fight opened. -- Beauregard's
Address. -- The First Dead. -- _Detour_. -- Camp of 71st Ohio
Volunteers. -- Failure of Strategy. -- General Johnson killed. --
Death concealed. -- Furious Fighting. -- Horse killed. -- Sad
Scene. -- Rebels gaining. -- Struck by a Shell. -- Another Horse
killed. -- The Wounded Cavalryman and his Horse. -- Sleep in the
Camp of the 71st Ohio. -- Startling Reveille. -- Result of First
Day's Battle. -- Victory for the Rebels. -- Arrangements for
Second Day. -- Bloody Scenes. -- Grant's Attack. -- Rebels fall
back. -- Fluctuations of the Day. -- General Hindman blown up. --
Retreat determined on. -- Leaving the Field. -- Horrors of the
Retreat. -- Sleep among the Dying. -- Reach Corinth. -- Resolve 138

CHAPTER VI.

HOSPITAL SERVICE.

Wounded arriving. -- Care of my own Men. -- Appointment as
Assistant-surgeon. -- Discharge from Rebel Army. -- Dreadful
Scenes. -- Sickness. -- Nurses. -- Stoicism. -- Military Murder
of a Deserter. -- No Pay. -- Go to Mobile. -- Spirit of the
People on the Way. -- Met at Depot. -- No Means of Escape. -- The
Stagnant City. -- Surveillance of the Press. -- Forced Charity.
-- In charge of a Hospital. -- Selma. -- Kindness of Ladies. --
Piano. -- Artesian Wells. -- Model Hospital. -- Furlough to
Richmond. -- Rigid Discipline. -- Disappointment. -- Bitter
Thoughts. -- Crinoline and Volunteering. -- North asleep 175

CHAPTER VII.

MY ESCAPE.

Obstacles in the Way of Escape. -- Farewell to Selma. -- Gold
_versus_ Confederate Scrip. -- An unnamed Friend -- Conscription
Act. -- Swearing in a Regiment. -- Soldier shot. -- Chattanooga
reached. -- Danger of Recognition. -- Doff the Military. --
Transformation. -- A Bivouac. -- A Retired Ferryman. --
Conscience _versus_ Gold. -- Casuistry. -- Embarkation and
Voyage. -- Pistols and Persuasion. -- An unwilling Pilot. -- A
Night-reverie. -- My Companion's Pisgah. -- Selim. -- Secession a
destructive Principle. -- Practical Illustration. -- A third
Night in the Rocks. -- Home and the Welcome. -- The Dying
Deserter. -- One more Move--but how? -- My loss and Selim's
Gain. -- Off for Home. -- Federal Officer and Oath of Allegiance.
-- Plea for Treason. -- Sanctity of an Oath. -- _Resume_.
-- Home 196

THIRTEEN MONTHS IN THE REBEL ARMY.

CHAPTER I.

HOW I VOLUNTEERED.

Object in going to Arkansas. -- Change of Purpose. -- Young
Acquaintances. -- Questioned on Slavery. -- Letter to my
Parents. -- Unfortunate Clause. -- A Midnight Call. --
Warlike Preparations. -- Good Advice. -- Honor among
Lynchers. -- Arrival at Court of Judge Lynch. -- Character
of Jury. -- Trial commenced. -- Indictment and Argument. --
Excitement increases. -- Butler Cavins and his Lariat. --
The Crisis. -- The Acquittal. -- No Safety from it. -- First
Impulse and subsequent Reflection. -- Attempted Escape. --
Night Ride. -- Helena. -- An Uneasy Boat Bide. -- Memphis.
-- "A Blue Jacket." -- Committee of Public Safety. -- A
Surprise. -- Dismissal followed by Unwelcome Letter and
Policeman. -- Recruiting Station. -- Volunteering.

Having spent my boyhood near Louisville, Kentucky, and falling in
love with the character of the young men of that chivalric State, I
found my way back to that region in the beginning of the year 1861,
from my home in the city of New York. In March, I went down the
Mississippi river to seek a school, and stopped in Arkansas, where I
hoped to find a relative who was engaged in teaching. Failing to
find either my kinsman or a remunerative school, I entered into
partnership with a young man from Memphis named George Davis, for
the purpose of getting out wine-cask staves, to be shipped to New
Orleans and from thence to France. We located in Phillips county,
Arkansas, bordering on the St. Francis river, more than 100 miles
from Memphis. The venture proved profitable, and with five hired
hands--Frenchmen--we were making money fast enough to satisfy a
moderate ambition, and I had time to look about me and study the
various phases of Arkansas society.

Frequent log-rollings--meetings of the neighbors to clear away the
dead timber which falls during the winter--brought me into contact
with the citizens for miles around. All sought acquaintance with the
stranger youth, and were generally courteous and friendly. In trials
of strength and skill, I occasionally gained an advantage which
made me friends among the older, but evidently waked up envy in the
breasts of some of the rougher young men. My refusal to drink with
the crowd, also widened the breach which I noticed was forming
without any cause on my part.

I was often sounded on the subject of slavery, which is the
touchstone always used in the South to test the character of a
new-comer. As a young man, I had no very fixed views upon the
subject. I had the impression that where it existed it should be
left to the control of those who were connected with it; and an
outsider, as I was, had better keep hands off, so far at least as
any direct efforts were concerned. Nor had I any disposition to
promulgate the anti-slavery convictions of my boyhood, since I well
knew they could have no good effect there; and as I had met a few
radical and half-crazy men in the North, whom I could not avoid
opposing, I was able to say some truthful things respecting them,
which conciliated my questioners. Yet I would not include the great
body of Northerners, whom I admitted I had met in my Kentucky
residence (I hailed from Kentucky), as of that hated class called by
them "abolitionist;" hence they still looked upon me with a shade of
suspicion.

Freedom of opinion in the South upon this subject is not tolerated
for a moment, and no honest anti-slavery man was safe for an hour in
that section. But as I was only a youth, they were willing to
suppose I knew but little of the subject, and I thought that they
were satisfied I was not a dangerous resident of their State. While
things were in this condition I concluded to write to my parents,
who I knew were anxious to hear from me; but I dared not direct a
letter to New York, and hence inclosed it in an envelope to a friend
near Louisville, Kentucky, with the request that he would "hand it
to my father as soon as convenient," not doubting that he would
direct and mail it to New York. In this letter, cautiously written,
I remarked, "This is a hard place to live in, as I had to ride ten
miles to get paper and ink to write this letter;" an unfortunate
statement, as will soon appear. The letter was deposited in the
post-office on April 16th. I went home, and, as if urged by a
guardian, though warlike, spirit, cleaned up my two six-shooters,
and, after examining my ammunition, laid them away unloaded. On the
night of April 17th, 1861, I was awakened out of a sound sleep about
11 o'clock by three men, who requested me to accompany them to
Jeffersonville, a small town on the St. Francis river, eight miles
distant. These men I had often met. One of them I regarded as a good
friend, and had some confidence in the other two. I asked for time
to dress and get ready, which they cheerfully granted. I carefully
loaded and capped my "Navies," and saddling my horse started with
them, like Paul, "not knowing what was to befall me there," but I
fear without much of the spirit of the good apostle, of whom I had
learned in the pious home of my childhood. I soon found these
"carnal weapons" essential safeguards in that place, though if I had
been an apostle I might not have needed them.

On the way to town my friend Buck Scruggs--he deserved a better
name--asked me to ride forward with him, and gave me this
information and advice. "You are now going to be tried by the
Phillips County Vigilance Committee on suspicion of being a Northern
man and an abolitionist. When you reach the grocery where they are
assembled, seat yourself on the counter in the back part of the
room, where if you have to defend yourself they cannot get behind
you. Make no studied defence, but calmly meet the charges at the
fitting time and in brief words. Keep cool, and use no language
which can be tortured into an offensive sense, and if possible I
will save you. If the worst comes, draw your pistols and be ready,
but don't shoot while ever there is hope, for you will of course be
killed the instant you kill any one else."

I listened very intently to this advice, given as coolly as if he
had been chatting about an every-day concern, and concluded that all
depended upon my coolness and steadiness of nerve when the final
struggle came, and resolved to sell my life dearly if it must be
sacrificed to the fury of a causeless persecution. To my
proposition to escape then, having a fleet horse, he would not
assent, as he had pledged his honor to take me to the Vigilance
Committee. Honor is as essential among lynchers as among thieves,
and all I could do was to brace myself for the encounter, of the
nature of which I had but an imperfect conception. About 12 o'clock
we reached the place, and I was ushered into the presence of fifty
or sixty as graceless scoundrels as even Arkansas can present, who
greeted me with hisses, groans, and cries of, "Hang him!" "Burn
him!" &c. Two-thirds of the mob were maddened by the vile liquor
which abounds in such localities, and few, if any, were entirely
sober. The hope that my innocence would protect me, which I had
cherished until now, vanished, for I well knew that drunken
cut-throats were blind to reason, and rather offended than attracted
by innocence.

Order was soon restored, and my friend Mr. Scruggs was called to the
chair. In this I saw a ray of hope. The constitution and by-laws of
the Vigilance Committee were read; the substance of which was, that
in the present troubled state of the country the citizens resolve
themselves into a court of justice to examine all Northern men, and
that any man of abolition principles shall be hung. The roll was
called, and I noticed that a large proportion of the men present
were members of the Committee; the others were boatmen and loafers
collected about the town. The court of Judge Lynch opened, and I was
put upon trial as an "Abolitionist whose business there was to
incite an insurrection among the slaves."

The first efforts of the chairman to get the witnesses to the point,
were unsuccessful. A mob is not an orderly body, and a drunken mob
is hard to manage. General charges were freely made without much
point. One cried out, because I refused to drink with them: "This
should hang him; he is too white-livered to take a dram with
gentlemen, let him swing." "Yes," shouted another; "he is a cursed
Yankee teetotaler, hang him." In a quiet way I showed them that this
was not the indictment, and that hanging would be a severe
punishment for such a sin of omission. To this rejoinder some
assented, and the tide seemed for a moment to be setting in my
favor, when another urged, "He is too 'tarnal smart for this
country. He talks like a Philadelphia lawyer."--Arkansas would be a
poor place for the members of the legal profession from the city of
brotherly love.--"He comes here to teach us ignorant backwoodsmen.
We'll show him a new trick, how to stretch hemp, the cursed Yankee."
At length the chairman got them to the specified crime. "An
abolitionist! An abolitionist!" they cried with intense rage,--some
of them were too drunk to pronounce the word,--but the more sober
ones prevailed, and they examined the evidence. The hearsay amounted
to nothing, and they plied me with questions as to my views on
slavery. I answered promptly, but briefly and honestly, that I held
no views on that subject to which they _should_ object, and that I
had never interfered with the institution since I came among them,
nor did I intend to do so. My calmness seemed to baffle them for a
moment, but the bottle was passed, and I noticed that all reason
fled from the great majority. Words grew hot and fierce, and eyes
flashed fire, while some actually gnashed their teeth in rage. I saw
that the mob would soon be uncontrollable unless the chairman
brought matters to an end, and suggested, that as there was no
evidence against me, they should bring the trial to a close, when to
my surprise they produced the letter written to my father but
thirty-six hours before, as proof conclusive that I was a Northern
abolitionist. I then saw, what I have had abundant evidence of
since, that the United States mail was subject to the inspection of
Vigilance Committees in the South at their pleasure. The ruffianism
of these scoundrels did not allow them even to apologize for their
crime. The only phrase in the letter objected to was the unfortunate
but truthful one, "This is a hard place." I never felt its force as
at that instant. It served as a catch-word for more abuse. "Yes, we'll
make it a hard place for you before you get out of it, you infernal
spy," &c. The chairman argued rather feebly as I thought--but he
understood his audience better than I did--that the letter was free
from any proof against me, that I was an innocent-looking youth and
had behaved myself correctly, that I evidently did not know much
about their peculiar institution, and he thought I had no designs
against it. They then went into a private consultation, while I kept
my place upon the counter, though gradually moving back to the
further edge of it. I saw the crisis was at hand, for smothered but
angry argument was going on in knots of men all over the room; my
life was suspended upon a breath, and I was utterly powerless to
change the decision, whatever it might be; but I must say that my
nerves were steady and my hand untrembling,--the unwonted calmness
of one who knew that death was inevitable if they should decide in
the affirmative on the charge, and who was determined to defend
himself to the last, as I well knew any death, they could _there_
inflict, was better than to fall into their hands to be tormented by
their hellish hate.

During the consultation, one Butler Cavins, who had a good deal of
influence (he owned about twenty slaves), left the grocery with five
or six others and was absent about ten minutes. He returned with a
coil of rope upon his arm, elbowing his way through the crowd, and
exclaimed, "Gentlemen, I am in favor of hanging him. He is a nice,
innocent young man. He is far safer for heaven now than when he
learns to drink, swear, and be as hardened an old sinner as I am." I
could not, even at the peril of life, refrain from retorting: "That,
sir, is the only truth I have heard from you to-night." My friends,
yet few, and feeble in the advocacy of my cause, seemed slightly
encouraged by this rebuff, and gained the ear of the rabble for a
little. Cavins could not be silenced. "This is a fine lariat, boys;
it has swung two abolitionists. I guess it will hold another. Come
on, boys," and a general gathering up in the form of a semicircle,
crowding nearer the counter, occurred. At the same moment jumping
back off the counter and displaying two six-shooters, I said, "If
that's your game, come on; some of you shall go with me to the other
world! The first man that makes another step toward me is a dead
man." There was one moment of dread suspense and breathless
stillness; hands were tightened on daggers and pistols, but no hand
was raised. The whole pack stood at bay, convinced that any attempt
to take me would send several of them to certain death. My friends,
who had kept somewhat together, now ranged themselves against the
counter before me, facing the crowd, and Buck Scruggs said, "He has
not been convicted, and he shall not be touched." James Niel and
Dempsey Jones, the other two who had aided in my arrest, joined
Scruggs; and their influence, added to the persuasive eloquence of
my pistols, decided the wavering. In twenty seconds, more than
twenty votes were given for my acquittal, and the chairman declared
in a triumphant voice, "He is unanimously acquitted." The unanimity,
I confess, was not such as I would have desired; but all agreed the
youngster had pluck, and would soon make as good a fighter as any of
them. With a forced laugh, which on some faces ill concealed their
hatred, while others made an unseemly attempt at coarse wit, they
adjourned, voting themselves a drink at my expense, which I must
perforce pay, as they had generously acquitted me! I confess to an
amiable wish that the dollar I laid on the counter of Cavins for a
gallon of whiskey might some day buy the rope to tighten on his
craven throat, though I did not deem it wise to give expression to
my sentiments just then.

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