Lebanon, Tennessee April 6, 1918 An Intorduction and Family History This book was given me by my granddaughter, Mary Trice, with a request that I write in it whatever information I may have regarding her ancestry on the Talley side and also to give her a sketch of my own life as a Confederate soldier in the Civil War 1861 - 1865. About thirty years ago I had an interview with father's old uncle, Martin Talley who died at Woodbury in Cannon County Tennessee at the age of 106 years. He was buried in the Edmund Dillon graveyard about two miles south of Cainsville on the Murfreesboro Pike and the inscription on the tombstone collaborates the above statement. It was from him at the age of 96 that I got the following information which I think is correct although at this great age his mind was faulty and he would stagger on some questions. He says it was about 1710 that four Talley brothers left somewhere in England and came to America and settled in Virginia. The names of the four brothers were Acey, Archie, Martin and Spenser Talley. Of the Talleys mentioned above we are descendants of Martin Talley. A son of Martin Talley named Spenser Talley married Elizabeth Webb and to them were born ten children. My father being the youngest and born on the 18th of March 1810 and died September 1889 aged 79 years. My mother was Mary Johnston, a daughter of Robinson Johnston of Wilson County Tennessee. She and my father were married in 1830 and to them were born nine children, namely Robinson, Elizabeth, Spenser, Eliza, Maria, Mary, Marion, Peter and Frank. My mother was born in 1812 and died January 1903 aged 91 years. Of the children born to my mother and father only two are living, myself and W. Pete Talley of Lackney, Texas. Sister Elizabeth died in Oklahoma three years ago. Sister A. died in Texas ten years ago. Sister Mary died in 1866. Brother R.J. Talley was killed in the battle of Atlanta July 20th, 1864. The others died in early youth of flu and fever. One of my father's brothers, Martin Talley, married Eliza Halland and settled in Shreveport, Louisiana where he reared a family and grew rich but lost nearly all of it because his son was charged with having killed a man. His son was finally cleared but the defense cost many thousand dollars. Another of my father's brothers, W.M. Talley married in the same family, Emily Halland, and settled in Collinsville near Memphis, Tennessee and reared a large family of which Foster Talley and Ami Talley Hicks were our visitors several years ago. I greatly enjoyed our manner of life out on the old farm home. In speaking of the Talley ancestry I have mentioned that two of the sons of Martin Talley married sisters in the Webb family. They were previously stated Spenser and Martin Jr. Their wives came from Rockingham County, Virginia to Wilson County, Tennessee and settled in the southern part of this county. Some of the children of the Martin Talley Jr's. were Peter C. Talley of Readyville and Murfreesboro, Hannah Dillon, wife of Edmond Dillon, also Arma Orand, wife of W. Orand of Woodbury, who emigrated to Waco, Texas where he died many years ago. Early Life My father, Coleman Talley, being the youngest of ten children did not get a favorite family name of his ancestry but was probably called for a special friend of whom we know nothing, other than it is not found in his ancestry or repeated in the names of his descendants. Spenser B. Talley (that's me) was born May 22, 1841 and during my infancy children were often and seriously affected with croup. In my babyhood days I was troubled with phthisis. When I was thirty years old our doctor said I had asthma. This affliction still abides with me and has been for a number of years an enemy I have had to fight. Much of my time and hard earned means have been spent with it. My father and mother decided that I would never be able to do much manual labor and gave me somewhat better education than the other children that I might make a living by other means than farming. So I attended the best of our county schools until it was decided (I had)a fairly good education and I began teaching when I was 19 years old, this being the fall of 1860. In January, 1861, I began teaching at a school near where Berea Church house now stands on the Coles Ferry Pike and boarded where Dr. James H. McFarland now lives, but in a much more convenient and up to date building. Before my school closed political matters were at fever heat. Lincoln had been elected president of the United States on an abolition platform. This threw the southern states into a furor of excitement, and one state after another seceded from the union. Lincoln made a call for seventy-five thousand troops to suppress the action of the southern states. This so enraged the southern people that nothing less than a war could settle their differences. Enlistment and Early Army Days The minds, thoughts and soul of the people generally had become so absorbed on war topics, that I thought best to close my school and be ready to fall in with the rapidly forming enlistments for southern defense. After winding up my little school affairs and returning home, I and my brother Robert J. began making our preparations to enter the southern service. We found there were several companies being formed in the county. About twenty were in readiness in our Taylorsville section and a like number had been formed at Hunters Point, but it took at least one hundred and four to complete a full company. Johnathan Eatherly was raising a Company at Mt. Juliet. These squads soon conferred and come together making a full company. The ladies at Mt. Juliet had made a beautiful silk "Battle flag" and had elected Miss Annie Sherill to make the presentation address. I was selected to receive the banner and make the reception address, the honor of which I sincerely appreciated so much so that I had Haywood Y. Riccle, one of our most brilliant orators, to assist me in the preparation for this occasion. The time had been set for this happy and interesting occasion, and complete preparations to do justice in behalf of Southern rights and the Bonny blue flag. When I had notice that the people of Mt. Juliet or the Wade Baker wing of our company were dissatisfied with the selection of Miss Sherill to present the Banner and that the matter had been called off, for fear that a tragedy might occur if the programs were carried out with her as maid of honor in the presentation ceremonies. This all occurred as I learned because some thought that another young lady of that community who had taken great interest in the matter should have had the honor. This incident at the time was the subject of considerable talk and comment, but in no way disturbed the peace, harmony and good will of the soldier boys who were preparing to go forth in defense of southern rights. Our company came together often as we could in practice in drilling and to be posted as to the prospect of getting into camp "life" as one would say in that age of the world. John P. Murray of Gainsboro, a prominent citizen and lawyer of Jackson county, was forming a regiment at Livingston and Governor Isham G. Harris, learning of our readiness ordered us into that camp. I think it was about the middle of September, 1861 when our company left Lebanon. We took the Trousdale Ferry pike and being "foot men" or infantry we only got as far as "Caney Fork" the first day. The next day we landed at what we were pleased to call "Camp Jollicoper" a place about 1 1/2 miles west of Livingston where flowed there and I suppose flows now one of the finest springs in Tennessee. The water in a large volume gushes from the side of a mountain and falls from a projecting rock the distance of about twenty feet. It was icy cold and clear as crystal. So far then as water was concerned us we had all that could be desired, for no army was able to make it muddy or in anyway impair it's usefulness and purity. There were a few wagons that came with us to carry our supply of rations and many other things that our good home people thought was needed in our army life and for several days we had old ham and good coffee galore and by the time we had used the good things brought from home our commissary department had sufficiently organized and equipped to furnish all needed food from the surrounding county and we had a delightful time for several weeks in our army training camp. We had no one in camp capable to give the right and proper training for the development of that physical strength and endurance so necessary in the warfare in which we were about to engage. Several of our officers had "Hardees" tactics and they studied these tactics daily and soon had us quite proficient in the manual of arms and also able to go through with the many maneuvers of well drilled soldiers. We spent only about two hours in the forenoon and two in the afternoon drilling. So the remainder of our time was spent in reading and writing to our home people and taking lessons in cooking. In the connection with the above I will state that for two or three weeks after our arrival in camp we had no arms, save a few old squirrel rifles and an occasional pistol, though most all the boys had huge butcher knives made in our blacksmith shops. The South had no arms or munitions of war and but little chance of obtaining any from foreign countries on account of the blockade, consequently we were hard put to get something to fight with. On account of the scarcity of arms our state government had a great number of what was called "pikes" made, they consisted of a pole about 8 or 10 feet long with a spear and sharp hook at the end made to cut both coming and going. However none of our regiment had any of these "pikes" instruments to fight with. Before long we got our old flintlock muskets, used last in the Battle of New Orleans, and almost ruined by rust. Fishing Creek We were called a late hour of the night to rush up to camp "Myers" a distance of about three or four miles where Colonel Sidney Stanton was forming a regiment. The report said that a force of the enemies cavalry was approaching and that we would be needed in their defense. Much excitement and great haste was made in getting in line of march, all were anxious to get into the fight and it was about good daylight on the morning of the 19th of January that we came to the enemy camps. The night was very cold and it had been raining, sleeting or snowing all night and many were the fences we had to burn on the roadside to keep from freezing. Our old flintlock muskets were wet and water soaked, our regiment spent about ten minutes in trying to dry out and be ready for the fray. Battle's regiment, the 20th Tennessee, and the 15th Mississippi Rgt. brought on the attack. General Zollicoffer, in the mix-up owing to the smoke and fog, dashed into the enemy's ranks and was killed before the battle had begun. Leaving his brigade without a commander these two regiments were badly used up and gave way in great confusion. Our regiment was on the extreme left while the fighting was all on the right and when they were repulsed, our wing was about to be cut off and captured. We were formed through a dense thicket of undergrowth and grape vines, when our colonel gave order to retreat in haste or we would be cut off. There was a rush made to get out of this thicket and in leaving my foot was caught in a vine. I fell in the pathway leading out of the thicket. I made many efforts to rise up but before I could rise some boys would step on me and I am sure that not less than twenty men ran over me before I could get on my feet, and when I had succeeded I found that I had been kicked along and that my hat and gun were twenty feet behind me. I knew it would not do to lose my gun and hat, and when I had gone back for them, I found I was way behind and the "minnie balls" flying thick and fast about me. After leaving the thicket we had to cross an open field, the ground was soft and wet and covered with grass which made the mud stick fast to our feet. Before I reached the woodland on the opposite side of the field my feet felt as if there was twenty pounds to each foot and I was broken down and still behind my comrades and felt sure I would be captured. I had gone but a short distance in the woodland before a piece of fleeing artillery came by me with ten horses hitched to it. A man to each pair of horses was driving under whip and lash, as the cannon was passing I jumped astride of it and locked my arms around it and my gun to keep from falling off. I rode this cannon for half a mile I suppose right through a woods when there was no road and frequently had jolts. When the wheels would strike a tree, that almost knocked the life out of me, and I have often thought of this as the most uneasy as well as the roughest ride of my life. This was our first scrap with the Yanks and I am sure we had a few days of as much suffering and want as we experienced during the civil strife. We reached the Cumberland river near our camp about sunset. The Yanks kept in close pursuit all the way. Our few Cavalry men, who covered our retreat held them back until we were in a somewhat fortified position where we held them in check till late in the night, when we crossed over to the south side of the river. When (we were)through crossing the little steamboat "Ella", which we used in crossing, was burned to prevent it's use by our enemy in it's pursuit. Retreat and Hardship Now we privates had no idea that the retreat would be continued. We thought we were back at home in our old camp and would probably spend the remainder of the winter there. But early the next morning we were ordered in line of march. We had no orders to take our rations or anything save our guns and were expecting an engagement with the Yanks that were crossing over, but instead we took the Livingston road and never halted till night. We hadn't a thing to eat or cooking vessels of any kind, and our minds naturally reverted to the good coffee, bacon, flour, lard, etc. We had a bountiful supply of provisions that we could easily carried along had we known that we were on a long retreat. Our army officers were lacking in the first principles of army life. They had little if any conception of the vital points to be guarded in case of retreat. The news of this disaster, having gone to our people at home, they quickly slaughtered a number of hogs and several wagons from Wilson county loaded with fresh killed pork and flour and meal met us a few miles above Gainsboro. My father and Uncle E.D. Johnson were with the party and had each a load of the things we were wanting. It is useless to say there was great rejoicing when these old men met us with such a substantial relief, for we had been on starvation basis for several days and many of our boys had become sick and worn out and would have fallen into the hands of the Yankees had not been for the courage and heroism of comrades who packed them for miles on their backs rather than leave them in the hands of the enemy. Dr. J.N. McFarland, who died a few months ago, often expressed his love and gratitude to me for having borne him along for miles to save him from the enemy. We were much together and devoted friends before the war and of course I would do anything in my power for his good and welfare. We rested for a day or so at and around Gainesboro and then began our march for a concentration of our armies. Fort Donelson on the Tennessee river both fell into the hands of the Federals soon after our defeat at Fishing Creek, thus forcing our retreat to the southern boundary of Tennessee. Shiloh The entire army in the middle or Western division of Confederate forces was now under command of General Albert Sidney Johnston. The Federal or Union forces were under command of General U.S. Grant who was concentrating his army at Pittsburgh Landing on the Tennessee river. General Johnston had all his forces from Kentucky and West Tennessee, as well as our army on the Cumberland to concentrate at Corinth, Mississippi. It was a sad time with all the older people in this country when we were leaving them in the hands of the Yankees, old men and old women were heartbroken to see us leaving. However this was natural and could not have been otherwise for no people on earth ever loved their homes and the sunny South more than did the people of Tennessee. We can never make you feel and realize how sad and sorrowful a time it was when our southern forces met with these several reverses in we might say the beginning of the war, for all of this occurred in January and February of 1862. On our retreat from Fishing Creek we camped a while at Murfreesboro leaving there sometime in February on our journey to Corinth, Mississippi crossing the Tennessee River at Decatur, Alabama. It was here that we took our first ride on a railroad and were very soon a part and parcel of a great army at Corinth. When all of our scattered forces from West Tennessee and Kentucky had come together at this point I suppose we had an army of something like fifty thousand men. General Grant, commanding the federal forces at Pittsburgh landing on the Tennessee River, had a few thousand more men than Johnston and had much our advantage in that they had the best of rifles and superior artillery. It was on Sunday morning April 6th that the great Battle of Shilo was begun. The Yankees all call it the Battle of Pittsburgh Landing but we Southerners have always called it Shilo because of the church house standing near where the most desperate efforts of the day were made. The exciting scenes of that Sunday morning will always be fresh in my memory, the shrill bugle notes calling every man to readiness of action. The rushing of couriers bearing messages, the swiftly riding officers up and down our lines, halting at some places to speak words of cheer and to urge men to deeds of daring and desperation. These scenes together with the gushing thunders of the cannon had an awakening effect so that we began this awful struggle, with a most determined and stubborn spirit while the Yanks put up a strong fight, having the advantage of better arms and equipment. They could not stand before the demonic yell and charge of our determined forces. We drove them from every position they took through the day. We captured money, a thousand prisoners, among which were several of their generals. We took their camping grounds and army supplies of every kind even their money which was in their paymasters tents and in great sheets not cut apart. I was not one who got some of this money, but saw some of the bills which I think was the first sight I ever had of greenback money. After an all day fight and having driven them back for miles even to the banks of the river we were commanded to halt and all firing having ceased we began fixing to camp, for night was now upon us, and we were tired and hungry. It was while recounting the work of the day that the sad news of the death of our chief was announced to us. The loss of this great man was a severe shock. We felt that the thousands we had killed and captured was in no way compensation for so good and great a man as Albert Sidney Johnston. Many of us could not sleep that night for talking over the happenings and incidents of the day, a goodly number of our friends had been killed or wounded and we were busy till a late hour, looking up and hunting for our missing comrades and friends who had fallen. Many sad rehearsals of where this and that one had fallen. When we laid down on the ground to sleep that night our eyes were hard to close in slumber as our minds were intensely fixed on the courage and bloodshed of the day. We had certainly done all that we desired or expected, and yet the thought of our losses in killed and wounded was so depressing, we could not sleep well. Before the light of another day Buell's army of more than twenty thousand men had by a forced march come to Grant's relief. We were thus confronted on Monday morning by an army of double our strength. Beauregard was now our chief, being next in rank after the death of Johnston. Had Johnston not been killed no doubt he would have pressed on and made his victory complete on the first day, while he had them beaten and driven to the shelter of their gun boats on the river. It was (due to)Beauregard's lack of generalship that we lost the benefits of the great victory we had won on the first day. We gave them battle on Monday but their lines were so much longer and flank movements so great and frequent that Beauregard was forced to retire, not in a routed way, but in the most perfect and orderly way. They did not pursue or endeavor to bring on another trial of our valor, but were no doubt glad to have us leave them alone. Promotion Our army returned to our camping ground at Corinth where we rested peacefully for several weeks. It was here that we reenlisted for three years or during the war. All of our men over 45 and under 18 were allowed to withdraw from the army, our Captain Wade Baker and several others were under this ruling, leaving us. Before he made us a farewell address, he spoke feelingly of his devotion to southern rights and his regret of physical weakness which prevented him from leading us to a successful finish, he closed his speech by saying, "When this sword was presented me on leaving our homes, I promised that it should ever be wielded in bravery and honor, and as you are now called on to elect a man to fill my place as Captain, I want to suggest to you my choice of the man who shall wear this sword". Now when he said private S.B. Talley was the man of his choice I almost staggered from shock for he had not spoken to me on the subject and I had no thought of trying for any office. This choice expressed by him was so sudden and so unexpected I hardly knew what to say, but I insisted that Lieutenant Holman who had been second in command ought to have the Captaincy and let me be his second in command which was done, and thus it was that Captain Baker presented me his sword as first Lieutenant with a long string of cautions and good wishes. In battles further on we may give some of the history of this sword. Interlude at Vicksburg After several weeks rest at Corinth, General Beauregard was relieved of this command and General Bragg took charge of us. General Bragg with a larger part of our fighting force now began to move from here to East Tennessee and Kentucky while the brigade to which I belonged commanded by General Strahl was sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi where we remained through the long and hot and dry summer. We were here to hold Vicksburg, a point on the Mississippi of much importance to the Confederacy, New Orleans having fallen some months before. Her treasure was transported to this point and consisted largely of sugar, rice and molasses. Vicksburg was about the only place occupied by southern troops on the Mississippi River and if we should lose it, it would give the Yanks a free and open commerce from the lakes of the gulf. Our brigade held this place for many weeks and we can now call to mind much of the suffering and privation endured around this historic place. The water here was bad, mostly from ponds that had a green scum over them and often we drank or sucked our water through a cloth to keep from swallowing the filth. Many of our men were sick on account of this and some died. Next to the bad water here was the number and size of mosquitoes, clothing was but little protection as they could bite through any ordinary shirting. There was nothing very exciting or interesting occurring in our stay at Vicksburg except on occasion. The Yankee fleet of several ships or gun boats were drawn up a few miles below the city, though sufficiently near to keep up a continual bombardment especially so at night. After being there for sometime they became quite tame and ventured to leave their boats and come out on the land for health and recreation I suppose. No sooner were they discovered than a project for their capture was planned and to this end about fifteen hundred or two thousand of our men were taken on a detour or way in which they could not observe us before we could make a rush upon them. We made this circulation route of about four miles in the greatest haste and with the most sanguine expectation, but by some way, no one knows how, they became aware of our movement and withdrew to their boats, so our charge was not made upon an absent enemy. When we reached the "levee" they opened a furious fire from their boats on us, but the river was so low the levee gave us complete protection. No one was hurt save one of our men who was killed by the hammer of his own gun striking the ground as he fell down behind the levee. Soon after this incident we were relieved, having been there through a part of May, June and July. We had become very tired of our place on account of bad water and almost a single diet of sugar and rice. We lived on rice until we became so tired of it, as to despise it, and for thirty years after the war I never saw a day that I could eat it. It is now fifty-four years since I took this distaste for the grain and it has found no favor in my menu yet. So when our relief came we were glad to leave the rice and mosquitoes and go into a rest spell out on Pearl River, where we had a delightful rest, and change of diet. Corn, tomatoes, potatoes, and onions were quite plentiful and the water was much better. Pearl River was fine little stream to bathe in, which we heartily enjoyed. On one occasion there were about twenty or thirty of us bathing in the river, floating and enjoying the refreshing and coolness of the exercise. Someone called in an excited tone that Tom Felter was drowning. He could not swim and by accident had gotten in water over his head. I knew right where he was, having seen him a moment before, and made a dash just in time to seize him by the hand as he came up, probably for the last time and soon had him at the bank, where after working with him for more than an hour, we had him fully restored. Tom Felter's home was somewhere near Mount Juliet. I met him several times after the war and he never failed to hug and squeeze me and in other ways express his gratitude for having saved his life. He went to Texas a few years after the war and I never heard anymore of him. Return to Tennessee and Battle at Murfreesboro Our pleasant surrounding here did not last very long. We soon had orders to join Bragg's army in Kentucky. We went by way of railroad and by way of Mobile. Here we crossed the Mobile Bay, which I suppose is some forty or fifty miles wide. We were for awhile, entirely out of sight of land. It was late in the evening when we started across, and we had a glorious sight of the setting sun on the vast expanse of waters glittering in the fading sunlight, which made an impression that will be as lasting as life itself. We made this trip on a large cotton ship. There were several thousand of us on board, and we were in a pain from the top to the lower deck. On reaching the opposite side of the bay, we found a long train of cars waiting our arrival. They were not passenger coaches as we see in this age of the world, but were freight boxes of every kind and not a few flat or coal cars. It was the best however that could be done for us. We filled them full, top and bottom. We were being hurried on our long journey and only stopped long enough to cook and eat. We were eleven days and nights making this trip from Mississippi to Knoxville, Tennessee. We slept on the train and those of us who were on the top of the train (of which I was one) would tie ourselves to the walk way on top with our gun slings to keep from falling off. One day while speeding along at a rate of about twenty miles an hour, being on top we saw our engine careen and fall down an embankment. We at once realized we were in a wreck and began jumping. However, the cars did not pile up and only a few boxes left the track, but in jumping there a goodly number badly bruised and sprained ankles and some with broken bones. The excitement was great and it always seemed a miracle that no more harm was done us. This brought some delay and confusion of which we will not undertake to tell. When we reached Knoxville, we learned of Bragg's battle at Perryville, Kentucky and of his retreat back into East Tennessee so we went into camp here to await his arrival. While waiting for the return of Bragg's army news came that General Bedford Forrest had made a dash with his force of cavalry on Murfreesboro and had captured the garrison there. We were rushed to his aid to hold the position until Bragg's arrival, which things we did, for after our arrival no attempt was made by the Yankees to retake the place. This was about the first of November, 1862 and winter was rapidly approaching. General Forrest had a number of us who lived in nearby counties to go and bring in the supply of good warm winter clothing our mothers and sisters had woven and made into garments for our use. I was one of this detail and came home and found that mother had myself and brother Robert J., a goodly supply of heavy jeans and wool socks that reached well near our knees. Many of our neighbors had clothing ready for their sons and we had a full jersey load of food clothing and other things to bring back to the boys in camp. It was probably December 1st before Bragg's army arrived. We can't remember dates of more than fifty years ago, but we know it was a cold winter. Among the prisoners taken by General Forest at this place was a man by the name of John Gray. He was a home made Yankee, and was a terror to the people of the town and county while in possession of the Yanks. He had reported and had punished many of the citizens for their aid and help in Confederate service. Forest had him "Court Marshaled" and the facts so clearly revealed his cruelty and vicious treatment of non combatants, that he was hanged. He was the first, and I think the only person, I ever saw hanged. I think it was while General Bragg was at Murfreesboro that John Morgan made a successful raid on Hartsville capturing more than two thousand prisoners. This was among the first of his famous cavalier's brilliant achievements. This with his many daring exploits gave him a name and fame in all histories of the rise and fall of the Southern Confederacy. When Bragg's army had all fully gotten together I think there were forty of fifty thousand of us and we had taken up winter quarters, and expected no more fighting till the Spring campaign began. So we rested and enjoyed our camp life, especially on Christmas when our good people at home were sending us many food things to eat, and other presents to use, for our enjoyment. It was toward the latter part of Christmas week when our high officials were enjoying a Grand Ball and festival at the Courthouse which had been planned several days before, that I have yet planted freely in my memory. No officers of a rank below that of Colonel was admitted. The Colonel of our regiment declined going and kindly loaned me his uniform which entitled me to admission. I had already had the pleasure of forming the acquaintance of a Miss Winston, a beautiful young lady living in the town, and by a previous arrangement had the pleasure of taking her to this great social festival. We were having a most delightful time. We had the best band of musicians in the army and our table was loaded with the best things that Murfreesboro could afford. I well remember that my girl wished an introduction to General Bragg. I knew all the generals in our army but had no acquaintance with them of course. I made no mention of this to her, but with much familiarity introduced her to General Bragg and a number of the generals of lower rank. Happiness and merriment seemed to fill every heart and this lasted till near midnight when a dispatch came to General Bragg that Rosecrans Army from Nashville was marching upon us. I am unable to describe the excitement and confusion this message brought upon us. General Bragg's order was to rush to our men and have them cook rations and be in readiness to move at a moments warning. I had given a Negro boy a dollar to take care of my hat, but leaving in a hurry could not find the boy, or hat and thus bareheaded I took my girl to her home on East Main, in a double quick step. The night was cold and I had a mile or more to go. On reaching her home she took the comfort or wrapping off her own head and handed to me to wear through the cold to our camp. I declined her offer saying I might not be able to return it, but she insisted and I accepted her gracious offer with an assurance that I would never forget her kindness and with a happy good-bye I left her on the front porch and off I went in a brisk run till I reached our camping ground and had the "bugle" note sounded that brought the men from their midnight slumber to a realization that the enemy was marching upon us. Fires were quickly burning and all of the flour, meal and bacon, etc. that we had on hand was soon cooked and in our "Haver sacks" and before it was good daylight we were on our way to meet the Yankees. Our lines were formed 4 or 5 miles out West of town. It was evening before the battle became general and furious. Breckinridge's division of which our brigade was a part, was held in reserve the first day, and was stationed on the right of our lines and on the North side of Stones River. Late in the evening the battle waxed not and furious on the left wing. General Withers' division was about to give way under the strong pressure and onslaught of the Federal forces. For this cause, General Breckinridge was ordered to hastened to his relief and support. In doing so we had to wade the river which was two to three feet deep. We made no halt but plunged right through it and soon after crossing our pants were frozen and rattled like a rawhide. It was freezing cold and the ground was frozen. When we reached Withers' division the firing had nearly ceased. The sun had been down for some bit and darkness was fast coming on us. So much so, that it made the sheets of fire from the enemies cannon look hideous and dazzling. They kept up this shelling until late at night. When it became evident that no further infantry charge could be made, we were relieved and permitted to retire to a position where we could build fires and dry our clothes. In the meantime, our commanding officer had considered our wet and frozen condition and he had a barrel of whiskey sent out for our use and benefit. A detail of one commissioned officer from each company was sent to this barrel to get whiskey for his men. I was sent from our company, and having gathered a dozen of more canteens, started for the barrel which was 3 or 4 hundred yards away. When I got there I found the barrel sitting on its end with the head out and a crowd around it with the same mission as myself. When my time came to fill up I would take the canteen in each hand and sink them in the liquor and they would say good, good, till they were full. Then I would take two more and do like wise until all were full. With these full canteens swinging around my neck, I started back and found that it was all I could do to walk, bending over the barrel and inhaling the fumes had made me drunk. When I got there I said "boys here is your liquor". It made me drunk without tasting it. The boys laughed and guyed me for awhile. They appeared slow to believe that the scent of liquor would drunken, but finally accepted my statement. With the hot fires they had now burning and the big drink of liquor they had taken, put them in full plight for sleeping and resting which they greatly enjoyed till the bugle notes sounded warning us of the near approach of daylight when we were again engaged in this fearful conflict. It is now Thursday morning, the battle raged all day. Rosecrans's efforts to smash our lines was a failure at every point. Thursday night we slept on our guns, ready for the attack, day or night. Early Friday morning, we were awakened by the gushing thunders of our heavy artillery. Much of the morning was spent in military movements. Each side seeking the advantageous ground. It was well into the evening before any mighty assaults were made on either side. It was then that Breckinridge made his fearful charge on the enemy's stronghold. Now stands a monument to the memory of the heroes that fell in that awful struggle. It was in this desperate charge that I received my first wound which was an ounce musket ball lodging against a rib in my right side. My heavy coat, vest and underwear together with a rolled shawl which hung over my neck, and through which the ball passed, prevented it from going through me and thus saved my life. The ball felled me to the ground, knocked the breath out of me and I felt that I was dangerously hurt. I could feel the flood running down my side but could not tell whether the ball was lodged in me or if it passed through. I was able to make my way unassisted to the field hospital and when our surgeon examined the ball mashed flat against my rib, I reckon I was the happiest one in the army. Our regiment suffered a heavy loss in men and officers. Our colonel was killed soon after I was wounded. When his dead body was brought to the hospital, my heart was full of sorrow. And regardless of my wound, I secured a vessel of water and washed his blood stained face and hands. The coat which I had worn a few nights before to the grand ball and festival, was now spotted and saturated with his life's blood. I removed the stains from his coat as best I could with cold water and a rag, combed his unkempt hair and whiskers and had his dead body laid with many others in the courthouse at Murfreesboro. No braver or better man fell in our struggle for independence. The Federal forces suffered a greater loss in men than we did. I believe our history of that conflict places their loss at fourteen thousand and ours at about eleven thousand. Our armies felt that they had done their best and neither side had a victory. Both sides were planning to retreat and if we had not retreated Friday night, the Yankees would have given up the field. But our army withdrew and fell back to Shelbyville. Another Retreat As I was wounded I could have boarded a train and gone to some Southern hospital until able for duty, but I preferred to remain with my company and had the privilege of riding our dead colonels horse as I was sore and not able to keep step with the boys on foot. We were not pursued by our enemy, and camped not many miles from Murfreesboro on the Shelbyville pike the first night. It was very cold and disagreeable night, being January 1st, 1863. (This is incorrect. AS) Not far from our camping ground stood an old church house in which soldiers had been camping before and I decided it would be better for me to spend the night in it and thus be out of the wet and cold, so with a lot of the men we took refuge to our sorrow afterwards, for on the next day I could feel something tickling in my undershirt and at camping time that evening. I made an examination to find the cause of it and found that I was badly infested with army lice. They have another name for the pest in this age but I can't think of it just now. On reaching Shelbyville I had all my clothes put in boiling water with a view of being rid of them but it was not so, but one of us more of less infested. We had been hearing of the critters for months but this was our first sight and experience with the annoying pest. A few months later we discovered a plan to their annihilation, which was to stretch our garments by inserting stiff brush and hold over a blazing fire until almost hot enough to burn. I don't know who made this discovery, but as soon as it was found to be a success, the news was passed down the line and it was not long before the pest was exterminated. Long before the war ended not a "Gray back" was to be found in the army. I mention this to let you know that in our Civil War, they were here to molest. Recruiting Behind the Lines We spent the remainder of the winter at Shelbyville and Tullahoma, our regiment was at the latter place. The killed, wounded and missing in our previous hard fought battles had materially depleted our ranks and we greatly needed recruits. To this end and purpose, General Bragg had a considerable number of officers to go back into our lost territory on a conscription tour, and endeavor to bring out all the able bodied young men. I was one of the detail and spent a month in this hazardous and almost impractical adventure. Those who were willing to go out and enter the army were the only ones we could reach. The entire country was overrun by the enemy and required a man who knew the country roads and people to even get in and out. Our only work was to earnestly plead with our young men the urgent necessity of their enlistment. I had many hazardous trips through the country and several narrow escapes from capture by the Yanks, having to hide and live in a cave three days and nights on one occasion to keep "home spun" Yanks from finding me. Once on your trail the Yanks could get all the information wanted from the negroes. In a fireside conversation I could no doubt tell you of the narrow escapes I had on some occasions that you would be interested in but to write out these details would require more time and space than I can give in this brief account of the part I took in the war. I was glad when I was released from this very dangerous and unpleasant duty imposed upon me. Just as I started back to the army at Tullahoma there was a flood of rain fell and all streams were out of banks. In passing from McMinnville to Tullahoma I had to swim Collin(?) River three times in less than three hours. It was high and running swift. But I was riding a strong and spirited horse, and to him I always felt grateful for having landed me safely over such a raging and turbulent stream as it was. Soon after my return, the army began moving across the Tennessee River at Bridgeport. Chickamauga and Chattanooga There were no happenings in our summer campaign that I now call to mind that would be interesting to you. I think it was about the 19th or 20th of September that the great Battle of Chicamauga was fought. I was in the battle from start to finish and came out without a scratch. The battle line through which our division fought was through a dense forest. The terrific shell fire through this timber land made a hideous and blood curdling scene. The trees were shattered into splinters and dead and wounded men covered with fragments of torn trees which almost covered the ground from the heavy guns on both sides. Trees as large as my body were severed in twain. It was about sunset when we drove the Yanks from their last stand and stronghold, completely routed and stampeded, and it had often been said that Bragg could have crushed the Federal forces had he pursued them in their flight. A complete finish of this victory would have reclaimed Tennessee which we so much needed. However Bragg delayed several days for rest and recuperation. In the meantime the Federals were greatly reinforced and had taken their position on the south side of the river at Chattanooga. Bragg took his position on Missionary Ridge with the main army. Our brigade was sent to East Tennessee and remained there guarding the bridge at Charleston until the Battle of Missionary Ridge was fought. As soon as the Battle of Missionary Ridge became imminent, we had orders to leave Charleston and rush down to the main army, and I may state right here that in this move I and brother R.J. suffered a great loss in clothing. We had our long legged socks and heavy underwear packed and placed in our wagon that carried the clothing, and other things of our regimental officials. So great was our hurry to reach the battle ground that we left our wagon train to follow on, but the day after we left them, the Yanks cavalry made a sweep up that country and captured the train of wagons and all the teamsters as prisoners. Old brother W.H. Holman, now living, was driving the wagon and team containing things and witnessed the burning of the wagon and contents. This he told after the war, for he was placed at "Rock Island" prison and remained there until after the war. On reaching our army at Missionary Ridge, we were placed in position on the extreme right wing of our forces, which rested on a high point near the Tennessee River. From this point we were in full view of both sides. No attack was made on our position, and we had nothing to do but watch the contending forces on both sides from our splendid view point. It was the first and only battle I ever had the privilege of witnessing the maneuver of both sides. We could see the Yanks when solid columns marching on our one little long spun line reaching from the river to Lookout Mountain. Our boys put up a strong fight and in spite of their great manpower held them back until under the cover of night we withdrew in perfect order, falling back to Dalton, Georgia where we spent the remainder of the winter of 1863 - 64. From Dalton to Atlanta The entire loss of Tennessee was a hard blow to the Confederacy. General Bragg's failure of success brought about his removal and Joseph E. Johnston was placed in command. This change was pleasing and gratifying to the Southern army. The boys thought what "Old Joe" didn't know about handling an army wasn't worth much. Our Spring campaign did not fully begin until sometime in April when the two opposing armies began having clashes. The Yankees had fully two men to our one, so to meet them in the open and drive them back was a matter almost impossible. Johnston's policy seemed to be to dally with them until he could have a favorable opportunity of striking them at a time and place that we could have some hope of success. It was a long fought battle lasting from April to the last of July, and is often referred to as the hundred days battle from Dalton to Atlanta. Johnston contested every foot of the way. Every day found us fighting. Some days the battle would rage furiously, while at times we would spend most of the day in skirmishing and seeking advantageous ground in the hill section through which we passed. So much could be said relative to this long contested battle, the tight squeezes we endured and hair breath escapes made, I feel unable to undertake a narration of only matters necessary to give you an idea of the privation and trials through which we passed. Resacca was a place where we had a fearful scramble with the Yanks. Here we lost our Colonel Sidney Stanton. He was standing on a log, talking to me, when he fell. I had command of the skirmish line in our front, and he was two hundred yards back with our main line, and was wanting me to so deploy my men as to make room for one of our batteries to play on the enemies approach. It was a sad and depressing sight to see this good man and gallant soldier drop to his death. The Yanks, we repulsed by our terrific shot and shell fire, but not before I had been hit on my right shoulder by a portion of an exploded shell which knocked me about twenty feet down a hillside. I was not seriously hurt, only bruised and stunned for a few minutes. I was not put out of business, though I had but little use of my right arm for some days. Johnston continued his policy of fighting and retreating because the Federal lines were so much longer that they could flank us, and thus force us to it or suffer capture. This was kept up until we were near Atlanta, when the war department at Richmond decided to change horses and retired General Johnston and placed General John Hood in command. This change in generalship had a withering effect on the entire army. While Johnston had been retreating his men had the utmost confidence in his skill and ability as a leader and were in no way discouraged, and the appointment of Hood as his successor created a great riffle of excitement and dissatisfaction because his reckless and bulldog disposition was well known and many unfavorable things were spoken regarding his capacity to handle the army, and their expression of doubt was justified as will be seen in several failures. Battle for Atlanta, and the Death of a Brother No sooner than he had been placed in command, than he began to arrange for a complete try out of his military skill and on the twentieth day of July 1864 made a charge on the entrenched Yanks. They had us greatly outnumbered and to say nothing of their fortified position however when the word was given, there was never a more desperate and determined rush made on their fortified lines. This charge was begun about three or four o'clock in the afternoon, and the battle raged furiously till darkness overshadowed the field, when we withdrew with no victory or gain to cheer us. After night's darkness had fully come upon us, we retired for food and rest. On our return I found that my brother R.J. Talley was fatally wounded. He had fallen in a field of growing corn, through which we had passed and I was unaware of his fate until after dark. He had been picked up by the litter company and carried to the field hospital where I found him and a great number of others who had fallen in this struggle. I sat by him all night, doing what I could for his relief. He fully realized that his wound was fatal and that he could only live a few hours. He maintained a calm and rational mood to the end. He talked almost incessantly, but in no complaining way, he often said "I am nearing the end, and ready to go". He was a devout Christian man who read the Bible daily. I believe he was the closest Bible student I ever saw. When he was not on duty he could always be found reading his Bible. When he went into the army he was not a member of any church. While at Shelbyville he called on the Methodist preacher to baptize him. The preacher began to talk to him regarding his spiritual experience and reason for wanting immersion. They had not talked long before this preacher found that he was unable to change his mind and they both went down into the water and he was baptized in obedience to the last commission of our Savior. He had a strong faith in the promise of God and his admonition to myself and others around him was to obey God, and live righteously in this world, was so impressive that his words can never be forgotten. It was just at dawn of day when my brother breathed his last and when we had wiped the death damp from his face, we set about for his burial. One of our boys made a rough box such as he could with only a saw and hammer to work with, but before we could get the use of tools to dig the grave, orders came for us to fall in line. A hasty move of our position was made, and we left the lifeless body of my brother lying in the crude box, not knowing where or if ever buried. This was the saddest and most trying hour of my war experience. Besides my brother there were a number of my best and closest friends killed or wounded in this hard struggle we had in front of Atlanta. Sherman was now making a flank attack on us and had taken a position just East of the city on Peachtree Creek and entrenched his men and to make it more secure had felled all timber which was a black jack growth. The limbs were backed down and pointed toward us which made it impossible to make any swift movement or rush on them. Regardless of this advantage and their superior numbers, Hood ordered us to charge and take their position. While our men were much fatigued and worn out from the very recent conflict, they raised the old "rebel yell" and rushed like a storm toward them. The thick underbrush that they had filled in their front prevented any rush. When we reached it I suppose we had gotten about halfway through when I was shot down. A minnie ball, having struck me above the hip in my left side, left no bones hit or broken but my left side and leg were paralyzed. I could not walk without the aid of a comrade. I was gotten out of the brush and placed in the hands of a litter bearer who bore me to the field hospital where all of our wounded were sent. This was a spot in a shady grove where hundreds of wounded men lay on the ground. From where I laid I could see the surgeon's tables. Four doctors were busy cutting off shattered limbs. These arms and legs were thrown in a heap which by night was as high as your head, and I doubt if a two horse team could have pulled them on a wagon. Hospitalization and Recovery From here we were carried to a point on the railroad and as soon as a train came we were sent south to various hospitals. The nature of the various wounds determined the place. Persons wounded in the head or neck were sent to a certain hospital while those who had a limb amputated were sent to another and so on. I was sent to Macon, Georgia and placed in the blind school hospital, a building used for the education of the blind before the war. It was a large brick building and I think it was situated in the northern section of the city. I was given a berth, in a room on the second floor with six other wounded soldiers. Our fare was not palatable to say the least of it, consisting of corn bread and beef soup and occasional sugar and rice, meted out to us on crockery ware plates and wooden spoons. At that time screen doors had not come in use and flies were more numerous than now, and could only be kept away by using a brush. Often when our meals were brought in, we had to "shoo" and knock for sometime before we could tell what was on our plates other than flies. The good people, living in Macon and surrounding counties, knowing our hard fate often brought in something better and cleaner. It was here that I first conceived the idea of being a Mason. Two of the wounded men in our room, I noticed, were being sent something good almost daily. This led me to inquire why this discrimination was made. I said to those two favored boys, that I was as far from home and friends as they were and that I would like to know how it was that they were the recipients of so many good things. They laughed at my inquiry and said that if I ever became a Mason I would find out all about it. This made a serious impression on me and I resolved that I would become a Mason if ever I had a chance. So the first opportunity I had I took the three symbolic degrees and have never regretted the step. A sweet young girl came in our room one day and brought us a whole lot of good things to eat. While enjoying it I told her of this work of the Masons, and so impressed her with my gratitude that she took delight in making us daily visits and always bringing something good to eat. She said "I will be a Mason for you while you are here". I surely appreciated her goodness, but it didn't last long. It was only a few days after this, when one morning our surgeon came around to make his daily examination of our wounds and he said to me, young man you have gangrene in your wound. I saw that he was somewhat excited and confused and not knowing anything about the trouble, having never heard of it before, I asked, What is gangrene? What does it mean? He said it means there is only one salvation for you and that is to cut it out right now, and then explained the nature and ravage of the infection. I then told him to cut it out. He said "we have no ether, chloroform or other narcotic to administer, can you stand the operation without anything? "I think I can" I said "and will do my best". He then gave me a short lecture on the importance of the work and the necessity of me keeping still and quiet. He went back to his office and got his knife and hook, and in a few minutes had me on his table. I had made up my mind not to flinch, move, or in any way cause him to fail in making his work a success. It took him two or three minutes to remove the putrid parts and I did not move or grunt until he was through. When he said "It is all over now", I was glad and appreciated the compliment he passed on me in saying I was the best grit he ever laid a knife on. "Now" said he, "If you remain here you are apt to have it again and I must send you to the country. Where shall I send you?" "I have no relations or friends this side of Tennessee, said I and one place will suit me as well as another." "Then I will send you to Hawkinsville, and give you a letter of commendation which will assure you of a good home and good attention. So early the next morning, armed with his leave of absence and letter, I boarded the train for Hawkinsville, a small country town in the Southwestern section of Georgia. My trip on the train was pleasant enough. I felt no pain from the movement of the cars, but I had to make nine miles on an old fashioned stagecoach. The kind that rested both front and rear, on great leather straps, to give it a rocking motion, which is pleasant to well persons, but to me a source of great torture, the rocking gave me intense pain all the way, and I was glad when we reached the little town. The first stop was at the post office, where I rolled out with my budget and seated myself on the sidewalk. It was only a few minutes before all the old men and little boys of the town were gathered around me, for I was the first wounded soldier, as I learned, that had been there. As soon as it was made known that I was a Tennessean and had no home or relatives to whom I could go, there was an outspoken expression from a dozen or more of these old men, saying I will take him. He can stay with me. Let me have him, etc. Then came an old man leading a mule, hitched to a buggy and he began pushing men out of his way until he could get his buggy close to me, and then taking my bundle of clothing placed it in the back of the buggy, then took me by the arm and helped me in. Soon after crossing a little river, (Chattahooche I believe), we drove up to his house, an old time unpainted building but it had several rooms. The name of this old man was John W. Caruthers and his wife's name was Pensy and I am sure that they did all in their power for my good and benefit. He was the owner of a large cotton farm and worked many hands. They gave me a room to myself and a Negro boy to wait on me. In a day or two my wound began to be offensive and I could smell it. This was so humiliating to me, that I refused to go to the table with the family for my meals, or to sit near anyone for fear they would get a whiff of the horrid odor from my wound. Everyone seemed grieved or sorry that I had an idea that I was offensive and persuaded me to discard all such thoughts. However the evidence was so strong that I was right in my conclusion, that I could but look on their acts as manifestation of their friendship and sympathy for me. Aunt Pensy had the boy to bathe and thoroughly cleanse with a syringe, the wound every morning, noon and night until I was better. She made large pads to fit around the wound to absorb the corruption which were changed three times a day. I suppose I should mention right here that antiseptics and germ destroying fluids were not much in use, in that age of medical science. When this period of sloughing was over, my affliction took on a more favorable aspect. I was not so sore and enjoyed exercise. My old friend had a gentle mule hitched to a no top buggy every morning with a driver for my pleasure. Though much of the time he would go with me himself. It was but a few miles from his house to the swamps and "quick sands". We made several visits in that direction to see things that were rare and interesting to me. Alligators were plentiful in these swamps as were also deer, wild turkey and the sand hill crane. Cranes and alligators were numerous but the deer and turkey were shy and we could catch only a glimpse of them before they were out of sight. Aunt Pensy had plenty of gray cotton cloth that her Negro women had woven for Confederate clothing, and was making me a new suit while Mr. Crutcher was daily telling me of the pretty girls to see as soon as my new suit was made. And surely he did take me to see some girls that are really beauties, some that will beat anything you ever saw in Tennessee, and some that will make you want to come back to Georgia when this war is over. Of course I was anxious to see the lovely lasses as he had so much to say regarding their beauty and refinement. On our way he spoke of the beautiful lawn and shrubbery surrounding their home which I found to be just as he had represented, and a place where one would naturally expect to see natures best specimen of human loveliness. Having been notified of our coming, they were dressed and ready for our reception and met us on the front porch. My old friend, in a most happy tickled way, passed the introduction and I must say that if ever I did a heroic thing in my life it was to suppress laughter on this occasion. For of all the uncomely specimens of humanity I had ever met, these took the rag off the bush. They were just the opposite of what I expected to see, and the joke was so complete, that I was tickled beyond my powers to describe. I would have given a horse to have been where I could shake my sides in laughter. They were as good and well to do people, however as the world affords, and could not be held accountable for their long and narrow faces and large teeth that set so projecting, their lips could not hide them. Fifty four years have passed since this little bit of fun was gotten off on me, but the memory of it has been so pleasant and lasting I could not refrain from giving it in my recollections of "War Times". During my months stay with Uncle John and Aunt Pensy, many things might be said of their goodness and kindness to me especially when I was about to leave, their strong insistence that I should substitute their home for my own, from which I was separated from by fate and the war and that I should make my wants and wishes known to them was indeed touching to my grateful heart. Uncle John carried me to town and just before I boarded the old stagecoach, he gave me a roll of money which contained more than three hundred dollars saying you buy whatever you need and when that is gone, just call on me and I will send you more. These acts of love and friendship linger with me and are more fixed in my memory than many graver fixtures of the war. I had a much more pleasant ride on the old rocking stage than I did in coming. Though my wound had not healed and still needed daily attention, on arriving at the hospital the doctor said I would have to stay with them a while longer. The old surgeon had discovered that before I left the hospital with my gangrenous trouble that I was handy with the pen and at request had written several letters for wounded soldiers to their home people. This was a considerable tax on the time of management for they had their hands full of other matters to look after. So I was kept busy writing letters and also doing some of the office work until I left a second time. Looking over our daily paper I saw that Jefferson Davis, our President was visiting our army and that there was a possibility of our army starting back to Tennessee. This so enthused me that I decided to go back to the army regardless of my wound which had not completely healed. The old surgeon very strongly opposed my leaving and wanted to have me permanently detailed to assist them in the clerical part of the hospital business but my inclination was so strong that I gave no heed to his want. I have always thought that if I had been a private he would have had me detailed regardless of my wishes in the case. In after years, when I became wiser and more considerate, I realized that I made a great mistake in not remaining in the safe and easy place. I had now been away from my home boys for a little more than two months and had a desire to be with them again. So gathering my little wad of clothing, I made my way to the depot to await a train that would take me to Ringold where our army was stationed. Return to the Army and Tennessee On my arrival at camp, Captain Holman, Lieutenant Carver and all the boys greatly rejoiced to see me back and had many things to tell me of the happenings that had taken place since I left them in July. On the day before we started on what has always been called Hood's raid into Tennessee, our entire army was caused to assemble in a shady grove where President Davis and Howell Cobb of Georgia made fiery and inflammatory speeches. The cheering was just wonderful at times and the rebel yell could have been heard for miles. They were foreshadowing our march back to Tennessee and the restoration of our lost territory. This plan and determination on the part of our high officials so pleased and enthused our army that there was no bounds to their expressions of approval and dogged determination to carry our the program of die in the attempt. When these great men had finished their red-hot speeches the applause was just deafening. The bands playing the "Bonny Blue Flag" and boys singing "I'll Make My Way To Tennessee To See The Girl I Left Behind Me". I think if was about the last days of September 1864 when Hood started from Ringold and Lovejoy Station, Georgia to make him famous raid into Tennessee. The forces turned over to him by General Joseph E. Johnson had been very much depleted in the battle around Atlanta and Jonesboro where he sacrificed thousands of his men without gaining even the shadow of victory. We had started on a long raid and being badly equipped for conveyance of munitions and war supplies of every kind our progress of necessity had to be slow and we could only average fifteen or twenty miles per day. Occasionally we were intercepted by small Federal forces that would cause some delay. However, we met with very little resistance till we had crossed the Tennessee River. In making this long campaign our division was diverted a little from the body of the main army for the purpose of capturing a regiment of Negro Yankees stationed in a black house in the suburbs of Dalton, Georgia. We approached the garrison of negroes, who were commanded by white officers in a manner that they could have a plain view and estimate of our strength. A messenger was then sent in under a flag of truce demanding that they make an unconditional surrender under the penalty that if they fired a gun at us, no quarter would be shown them when captured. They immediately surrendered and my company was sent in to have them stack their arms and march them out. We took the white men as prisoners but the negroes were taken as livestock or other property. The separation of these white officers from their Negro commands was as interesting as well as a sickening scene to our Southern boys. The white officers in bidding farewell with their colored men showed in no uncertain way their love and devotion to the colored race. Their hearty handshakes and expressions of sorrow over their separation will never be forgotten. It was also a part of our business to tear up the railroad and burn the bridge at the place. So we marshalled this body of negroes out to the railroad and piling the crossties, while the crossties were burning, the rail were laid across the heap and when hot, strong men would take hold at each end and rush against something solid, and so bend the rail. They could not be used again. Now we had a little slim black Negro with us named "Verge". He had been with us for a long while and did our cooking and washing. Verge was happy when we marched those negroes out. He would curse and vilify them and take from them whatever they had, that he wanted. Verge's abuse and treatment of those negroes will never be forgotten by any of those negroes. It has only been a few years since I was standing around a stove in a store at Rome, Tennessee when an old Negro named Henry Harris said to me "Boss whar you speck is de first place I ever seed you" "Down about Bellwood I reckon Uncle Henry, why do you ask? "Boss you mistaken" "Well where did you first see me? "The first time I ever seed you Boss was at Dalton, Georgia". "Well were you one of those Negroes I marched out of that black house and stockade?" "I sho was Boss". "Well how did you know me?" "Nick Seay pointed you out to me when you come in. Nick said I know dat man commanding that Squad, dat's Spencer Talley and I do hope he won't know me". Nick belonged to the Barton's, our kin. "Well Henry do you remember a little black Negro that we had with us who cursed, robbed and abused you all so much." "Yes Boss I remember him and I been looking for him ever since the war and if I ever lay my eyes on him, I'd kill him quick as I would a snake". Old Henry is still living and makes his living by peddling of country produce. I often see him bringing in his weekly load of chicken, eggs, butter, etc. to market and never fail to think of him being one of our Dalton Negroes. There were many other interesting incidents in the capture of this regiment of negroes which I cannot undertake to write out in this brief sketch of my war recollections. On leaving Dalton, we took a North Westwardly course on through Alabama until we reached the Tennessee River at a point not far from Florence. Here we were delayed for a considerable time in making and launching a pontoon bridge that we might cross over. This pontoon or floating bridge was a shaky, crazy, affair and the crossing over it was an uneasy and ticklish tramp and especially so with teamsters who had heavy loaded wagons. Nothing, however gave way and all crossed safely. It was now, about two months since we started on the raid, and many of our boys were barefooted, their shoes having worn out and the weather was now getting cold. At night when our poor cattle were being slaughtered, barefooted boys were thick around the carcass for the skins which they would wrap around their feet with the hairy side next to the foot and ankle. This was a severe test of Southern patriotism, and as an illustration of the optimistic spirit which pervaded this army, will say that on the 27th of November, 1864, I had charge of the advance guard. A cold, drizzly rain fell until about noon, when it began snowing and continued until night. I was halted just before night for camping, and while waiting for my company to come, which was far back to the rear, I sat on a fence corner and was watching the hundreds and thousands of poorly clad and many barefooted soldiers splashing through the mud and slush which was now from four to six inches deep. A big Irish fellow, barefooted with pants rolled up to his knees in passing, bellowed out, "Oh how glad I am to live to see it snow one more time". This incident is given just to give you an idea of the cheerful spirit prevailing this army of half fed and poorly clad soldiers, who now had a hope of regaining Tennessee and again freeing their homes from the terror of an invading foe. Spring Hill and Franklin When we crossed by, Schofield or Thomas was located at Pulaski, but on our approach, fell back to Columbia, thence to Spring Hill, where was made the great blunder that virtually destroyed the success of our raid, the particulars of which you can read in almost any Southern history of the war. The blame for this failure to strike the enemy at Spring Hill in it's demoralized flight has never been fully and satisfactorily explained or made known. However it is a fact that we stood still and let them pass out of Spring Hill when we had them cut off and could have forced a battle or their surrender. The next morning we pushed forward in pursuit of their fleeing and demoralized army. The road was strewn everywhere with the wreck of thrown away stuff that they were unable to carry in their flight. Many wagons just set on fire and abandoned were saved from destruction. We pushed them on to Franklin. There they had trenches, and were well fortified, and had their batteries planted for a strong defense. We could have made a flank movement and gone around them and forced them to fight us in the open but our leader failed to use this strategy and attack them in the trenches. Our battle lines were formed about a half mile in their front. Our brass bands were playing "Dixie" while the cannons gushing thunder from both sides was almost deafening. The order to charge was given. The rebel yell was terrifying as we never heard it before. We rushed on and on through a field and opening in which was no protection. The battle raged with fury and swiftness from start to finish. Our men were mowed down like grain before the sickle. Our company started in this fray with fifty seven fighting men and only eight or nine escaped death or being crippled and wounded. Captain Holman was killed in the midst of the charge, leaving the company in my command. We rushed through the locust thicket to the breast works where I fell with a broken skull. It was now between sundown and dark, and I lay as I fell in an unconscious condition until about midnight when I came to myself, I realized that I was wounded in the head. I made many efforts to rise up on my feet, but in every attempt I would fall back to the ground. My vision was impaired and it seemed that I must climb a very steep hill. The ground and everything I could see was right up in front of me and I could only be convinced of my impaired vision by trying to place my hands on objects that I apparently saw. I was just recovering from the shock and could stand on my knees some bit before I could on my feet, as stated above we were in a locust thicket and it was by holding to these little bullet shattered trees that I could stand and stagger along by holding to them. The moon shown brightly and I could see the ground covered with the dead and dying, over which I had to pass in making my way out. Once out of this thicket I was soon in the hands of our litter corps who helped me into an ambulance of wounded men, which took us to the field hospital where Dr. O.C. Kidder examined my wound and removed some of the sharp splints that would prevent healing, and I was glad when he said you will soon get over this provided the inner bone lying next to the brain is not fractured. The next day I could walk about without any assistance, and went back on the battlefield to see that Captain Holman's grave was plainly marked and easily located. About a year after the close of the war his remains were brought back in interred in the family graveyard, not far from Hunter's Point on the Cumberland River. After the battle at Franklin, a serious problem confronted our officials. We had more than a thousand wounded soldiers on the ground, and no railroad or other means of conveying them to Southern hospitals. People for many miles around came for their relatives and friends and did much to relieve the situation. All the wounded who could walk were given "Leaves of Absence" to go to their homes provided they were in any reasonable reach of the same, or friends who could care for them until able for further service. This was the best and only reasonable thing that could be done for our relief. It was the 4th day of December before this plan of relief was put in operation and on that day myself and two other wounded men of my company, John Colton of Putnam County and John Bryan of Macon County started for our homes. A Perilous Journey Home We traveled about six or seven miles per day. After crossing the Nashville and Murfreesboro Pike we had to make our way off of any public road for the reason that the Yanks cavalry were scouting throughout the country and to avoid capture, had to be cautious. In spending the night we always chose the most out of the way place. We remember staying one night with a family by the name of Lea. My wound was needing attention badly and a daughter of Mr. Lea named Kate, spent an hour or more trying to clean my hair of the dried blood which had caked hard about and around the back of my head. While there I wrote my name and home address on the leaf of a book. This girl after marrying settled at a place not far from Nashville on the Lebanon Road. Thirty years after the war, she was in conversation with Gabe Thomson, who spoke to her of living at Big Springs, Wilson County. When she asked him if he ever knew a man by the name of S.B. Talley living in that section, he told her he did and that he was living there now. She said to him, "Tell that man that if he ever travels this road to be certain to call here for I want to see him." Sometime after this, Gabe met me and spoke of having this conversation and how earnestly she had requested him to deliver her message. So in a few months I had occasion to go to Nashville and made it convenient to stop and call on her. She was much delighted to see me again, and could remember twice as much about dressing my wound and other things that was said and done as I could. She said her motive in sending me word to call was that her children might see the rebel soldier whose wounds she dressed after the Franklin battle and of whom she had so many times made mention to them and for the further reason that she wanted to write her aged parents she had met me, because they had so often spoke of the three wounded rebels spending a night with them and were not to know what ever became of them. The hours or so spent with this lady was full of glad recounts of events of that day and the perils and dangers hovering over the entire country. We were six days in traveling from Franklin to Tuckers Cross Roads in this county. It was here we separated. John Patton and John Bryan, were still many miles from their homes. While I was only about five miles from mine. I had a sister living near Tuckers Cross Roads with whom I took lodging that night, while Patton and Bryan went on a mile further and took refuge with Cecil (?) Murphey. The next day the Yanks got on track at Tuckers Cross Roads and soon over took Patton and Bryan, took them prisoners and started with them to Cookville. They were a reckless and drunken set of homespun Yanks and before they had gone far, got mad at Patton because he could not ride well on a horse behind them owing to his wound in the leg and shot him to death at the foot of a steep hill not far from Gordonsville. They then told Bryan they would kill him when they got over the top of the hill and that his death might be painless, made him drink a quart of whiskey. In crossing the hill, they came to a very steep precipice covered with undergrowth. On reaching this, Bryan sprang from the horse and shot down through the undergrowth, and was out of sight in less than a minute. Several shots were fired at him but none took effect. I saw Bryan several years after the war at Red Boiling Springs and he narrated his thrilling experience and narrow escape from the cold blooded murderer. I could never make any know or realize how glad I was to meet John Bryan after the war and hear him tell of this wonderful experience after our separation at Tuckers Cross Roads. He lived near Red Boiling Springs at the time and I went with him to his home and spent a night with him in hatching over the many sad scenes and sorrows that we had visited upon us in the war of 1861-65. My brother-in-law, Charles Palmer, having heard of these outlaw Yanks being on our track, kept me in hiding all day and under the cover of night I made my way home which was only four or five miles away, though it was far into the night before I reached it. My father and mother and all of our home people were taken by surprise and greatly rejoiced to see me and to know that my life had not been lost in the awful conflict at Franklin. No telegraphs had come into use at that date, and mail service was poor coming only once a week, under such conditions our people were slow in their information concerning army matters. I was kept in hiding for some weeks and not many of our neighbors knew that I was at home. The greatest fear that my father and mother had was that I would be seen of negroes who would report it to the Yanks and cause my arrest and imprisonment, besides this every head of the family had been made under the military rules of the Yanks to take an amnesty oath binding them under the severest penalties for in anyway whatever aiding or abetting the Confederate service. Only a few days after my arrival at home, before Hood's army at Nashville had met defeat and great disaster, and was on its way back to Southern soil, leaving our people completely and entirely in the hands of the enemy, being wounded I could not make my way out to rejoin our army. It was a sad and sorrowful time with our home people, the bright ray of hope and sunshine cast over them by the coming of Hood's army began to fade away, and when it became an assured fact that he had crossed the Tennessee River and was making his way into South Carolina, the last spark of hope for southern success had vanished. The fall of Richmond and surrender of Lee's army was looked for and expected daily because Sherman had marched through Georgia to the seacoast and was now headed to cut off all southern supplies and communications. When it had thus become plain and evident that there could be no southern success, my friends and kin people all urged and advised that I cease hiding out and go and take the Federal oath and cease to be a menace to their lives and liberty. I took their advice and never once in my life thought there was a person living who would or could say that I did wrong until more than fifty years after the war the board of pensions examiners refused me a pension on the ground that I took the amnesty oath before the final end of the war. To have done otherwise would not only been contrary to human nature but a failure to use common sense and good judgement. Every true southern spirit regretted seeing the inevitable downfall of the Confederacy, and when the crisis came to submit to the inevitable was compulsory. The chess board showed that only a move or two could be made before the game would be played. However, owing to the bad roads and weather conditions through January and February and well into March no heavy army movements could be made and it was therefore the 2nd day of April before the full and final surrender of Lee's army. War's Aftermath The war having ended the Confederate soldiers soon made their way home, and began the work of rebuilding their wasted and desolated country. Most all the live stock of any value, such as horses, mules, and oxen had been taken by the Yankees. The old and worn out was all we had to depend on till younger ones grew to be serviceable. The negroes being recently freed were still among us and many of them remained and worked faithfully for their former masters at just and reasonable wages, while others seemed insolent and pouty, and could not enjoy their former homes. In some instances they became so puffed up, and arrogant in their ways as to be very offensive to the Southern soldiers and to suppress their social equality with the white people and to cause them to stay in their own camp, the Confederate soldiers organized the "Ku Klux Klan". While the Ku Klux Klan was an unlawful assemblage of men it did a good work for the South in the days of reconstruction and rebuilding the farm industries. I was not a member of this clan and was never in an unlawful secret assemblage of any kind. I enjoyed some of the doings of this Klan while I greatly disliked and condemned other features of their work and could here narrate some of their acts, but am inclined to think it would be useless and unprofitable at this late date. Conclusion I was married on the 23rd day of March, 1865, about ten days before the final surrender of the Confederate forces. The occasion was one of considerable monument in that day and a goodly number of our friends and relatives were present to extend congratulations and to participate in this happy and social affair. The bride was a lovely sweet girl of 19, and her beauty and winsome ways had won for her love and admiration of a wide circle of the younger people. She was the oldest daughter and child of Marion B. Kittrell, one of the most widely known and progressive farmers and livestock and real estate dealers in Middle Tennessee, and his career has such left an imprint on the community in which he lived for honesty and fair dealing that has lived and will still live for many years after his passing away. There is no wonder that Miss Francis with so noble a sire and her young fashion should have won my earliest, my sweetest and best affection. Fifty four long years have passed since this happy occasion took place and many and various problems have come up to be solved but with complete oneness and harmony we have met and disposed of them all. Our occupation in life, together with a serious affliction which helped me in my early manhood forbade that we could gather a great deal of this worlds goods or give to our children the education and training which might have led them into higher spheres and callings and which might have given prominence and popularity. Yet, these drawbacks have in no way hindered our efforts in growing in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. And we rejoice now in our old declining days to see all of them happy and devout servants in the Master's Kingdom and we realize more than ever that the inculcation of habits of industry and economy in the rearing and training of children is more helpful and lasting than great riches. It is now late in the evening of our lives and it gives us great pleasure to know that our children all have comfortable homes of their own and that each of them is surrounded by numerous friends. We began keeping house in October 1865 at Taylorsville where we had a country store and sold goods for a few years. We then sold the store and bought the farm upon which we lived until about fourteen years ago. When my poor health and declining strength was insufficient to look after and care for the farm we then bought a house and lot in Rome and lived there four years. We then came back to Bellwood where we remained until after the marriage of our last child Bertha. This left us alone and too feeble to keep house. We then at the earnest solicitation of our children disposed of our home in Bellwood and have since that time been happy and contented in a home with Bertha and her husband E.G. Walker, who have spared no means of making our lives pleasant and happy with them. Our other children have been constantly mindful of our wants and necessities and have contributed heartily to our comfort and happiness. In concluding our short biographical sketch of our civil and military experience, we wish to say that but little attention had been paid to the punctuation or grammatical construction of our thoughts. Our only aim and purpose being to leave on record some of the events, trials, troubles, and pleasures visited upon us down the long pathway of nearly seventy eight years. This brings my notes to a close. In looking over this narrative covering the events of a long life, I notice many things that could have been said in a more readable and interesting way and that very many events and happenings have been entirely left out which might have been more interesting than many I have written, however I submit this hoping ourchildren may be interested in my feeble effort, by Grandpa, Spencer B. Talley.