My Grandfather's Diary of THE WAR
     My grandfather kept an accurate diary of his daily experiences during the Civil War. He often wrote articles for county papers giving the dates and places where the boys in gray were fifty, sixty years ago. This was especially popular during the teens when the Confederate Veterans had their annual reunions and were entertained at all the county fairs.
     Unfortunately, his diary has been lost. However, in 1911, he wrote a series of articles for THE SPENCER TIMES published by E.N. Haston, long-time Secretary of State of Tennessee. Mr. Haston gave the originals to his brother-in-law, and my uncle, F. S. Clark of McMinnville.
     These articles were written more than fifty years ago---fifty years after the CIVIL WAR. Much of his material was taken from his diary---but THE war was still fresh in his memory.
     The first article was lost and we had despaired of locating a copy. Just a few days ago my sister, Mrs. C. B. Shockley, found a copy of this article in the bottom of a trunk in her attic.
     These articles were reprinted in THE SPENCER TIMES about 1918 and by THE SPARTA EXPOSITOR---and probably other county papers.
     This year, 1963, seemed to be the proper year for re-publishing these articles, since we are observing the Civil War Centennial.
     We elected to use the off-set method for two reasons---to substantiate the authenticity, if such should be needed; and to reveal the excellent penmanship of that era.
     It is our hope that these articles might be of some minor historical value---especially to the relatives of the Van Buren boys who fought for the Lost Cause.
     It is not our purpose to re-open a wound that has so nearly healed after a century. Instead, we concur with Abram J. Ryan in his beautiful poem "The Conquered Banner"---

"Furl that Banner; True 'tis gory,
Yet 'tis wreathed around with glory,
And 'twill live in song and story
"Furl that Banner, solidy(?), slowly;
Treat it gently---it is holy
For it droops above the dead;
Touch it not---unfold it never---
Let it droop there furled forever,
For its people's hopes are fled."

August 1963



     It was understood by all that we would start on the 15th of May. Spring opened early that year, and farmers were over their corn crops the second time. The 15th was on Wednesday, which was clear and beautiful.
     We all met at Wiley Millers (now Goodbar). Our wives, sisters and sweethearts were there in great numbers. About 2 p.m. we told them goodbye and marched off to the music of Alf and Joe Stipes fiddles and Lewis Ford's drum. Several of them never saw Van Buren County again. Remember this was fifty years ago in May. We arrived in McMinnville late in the evening and the good people took care of us that night and gave us breakfast next morning.
     The railroad then came to the river below town. We went down there to take the train for Tullahoma. Many, in fact, most of us, had never seen a Steam Car and some of the boys looked under the car box for the engine. In a little while the engine came from the water tank hitched to the train and "we sailed away ladies". The distance to Tullahoma was 35 miles and I think we made the run in about six hours. We thought that we were flying. One fellow held his watch, while another counted the mile posts and said we were going a mile a minute. But he was mistaken. We stopped at Tullahoma and waited for the train from Nashville. We took the train; went South 8 miles; crossed Elk River and camped at a place called Alisona. We soon began to experience camp life. We drew rations in abundance, but had no cooking vessels for a few days. A factory had burned down, just previous to our going there. We used pieces of smoke stack and other materials for cooking vessels. Do you remember Gabe Elkins? He had been preaching for several years, but put away his Bible, and took up his fiddle. He called his favorite piece "Pewter" and played for the boys to dance. We began to learn guard duty and daily drill. We would occasionally, steal a ride on the train to Dechard. I remember my first experience in cooking rice. We divided the company into what we called messes, with six to the mess. I decided to cook some rice for my mess. I put about one gallon of rice in a Camp kettle of water and it soon began to run over. I took out some of it and it boiled over again. I decided the rice was spoiled but some fellow told me that it all did that way.
     We had not yet organized and had no tents nor guns. We were mustered into service on the 20th by General Anderson. We were all out in line to be inspected as to our physical ability. The halt, the maimed and stiff jointed put forth their very best appearance, for fear of being rejected, but Oh, my, 'twas not long until some began to make excuse. We enjoyed our short stay there, but anxious to go elsewhere. It is natural for a soldier to soon tire of one place. My first guard duty was on the South end of the bridge across the river near our encampment. In my next I will carry you away from Alisona.

C. H. Clark

Spencer. Article 2

     On the 26th we took a train and started North, passing Tullahoma. Then a small village, and then called by most people Tallahoma! Sam Porter stood on the platform gazing at the telegraph wire, and remarked that he couldn't see how letters could skip over the line and pass through the bottle neck at top of poles. Frank Tompson got a false face somewhere and put it on, and passed through the car boxes having his fun and Sam Porter poked his finger in the eye of the false face, and Frank bloodied his nose. But I must pass on. We went on through Bell Buckle, Wartrace, Murfreesboro and on to Nashville. The population of Nashville was then about 15,000. The people there showed us much kindness. East Nashville was then almost a wilderness. In the evening we crossed Cumberland River on a foot wire bridge, and about night took the train again. We passed Gallatin late in the night and arrived at Camp Trousdale next morning. On the 10th of June our Regiment was organized, containing 10 companys, making about 1000 men. John H. Savage was Colonel. T. B. Murray Lieut. Col. Joseph Goodbar Major. Harmon York was Captain of our Company, and known as Company ???. On the 11th we moved two miles North and camped. On 4th of July we received our flag (or banner). On 7th Rev. Poindexter was elected Chaplain. Seventy thousand soldiers were organizing and making ready for war. The sounds of fife and drum and the words "hep, halp, forward, etc" were heard on the drill field. General Zollicoffer was in command there. We began to mix and mingle with other companys and soon became acquainted with many of them, whose names are yet familiar and honored. I remember the big fat Negro who had a cake and cider stand. Millions of flies swarmed around and on the cakes. We got plenty of meal, flour, bacon, sugar, coffee, etc. while there. About the latter part of June the measles infested our camp, and all who never had them were soon down. I very well remember my experience with them and remember too, the kindness of Caleb McBride. He went out in the country and gathered up material out of which to make tea. He threw it in a camp kettle of water, like women put dumplings in a pot, boiled it awhile and then dipped out some and gave me to drink without straining. Caleb told me to drink it, and I would get well and never have measles again. I was sure sick and had confidence in Caleb and took the medicine. He is yet living and will tell you that I have told the truth. I guess he yet prescribes the same medicine, and can be found in any sheep pasture. While at Camp Trousdale, we were aroused from slumber one night and ordered in line of battle, that the Yanks were near and we must fight them. Great excitement prevailed. We had not yet drawn guns, and were in a poor fix to fight. The boys got their pistols and butcher knives. We formed in line and started making very little noise. We were notified before going far that it was a false alarm, and ordered back to camp. Some seemed to be sorry that we didn't get to "clean-em-up", but I was glad that it was a false alarm. One of my messmates ???essed religion in the lonely hours at night, and Col. Savage permitted him to come home and be baptised. He went back to camp in a few days, but was not much soldier afterwards, which proves that it is wrong for a Christian to go to war.


Spencer. Article 3

     As soon as I got up from measles I asked Col. Savage for a furlough home a few days, but he said "no, he would need me to kill Yankees in Va!" This was the only time I ever thought hard of Col. Savage, but I soon got over it. This was nearly 50 years ago and I must leave untouched many incidents of interest and hasten on. On the 21st of July we packed our knapsacks and filled our haversacks (?) with rations, and left Camp Trousdale, marched through a drenching rain to the Depot, took the cars for where and we knew not at that time. In crossing Tennessee River I peeped out to take a look, my cap blew off, and I have never seen it since. We arrived at Chattanooga early next morning. Chattanooga was then a small place. At 10 o'clock that night we boarded the cars again and arrived at Knoxville next day at 12 o'clock, and remained there until next morning. We then started again, went to Haynesville and remained there one day and night. On the 26th at 1 p.m. we started again and arrived at Bristol same day at 6 p.m. The line between Tennessee and Va. passed through Bristol. On the 28th we started again and arrived at Lynchburg "on the James", next day at 3 a.m. The city is on the west side of James River. We began to feel like we were far from home. When we got off the cars we were met by Negroes with their armsful of long ???? of tobacco at 10 per plug. I purchased a plug, handed the Negro a half dollar and he could not change it. He said, "boss, go right dar to dat store and get it changed." I did so, took him the dime and he gave me another plug of tobacco. He was busy waiting on the boys, and had forgotten handing me one when I first went to him. If I knew the Negro was yet living and where to reach him by mail, I would send him a dime, but could not afford to pay the interest. (We marched up through town and picked up plenty of fine tobacco, thrown to us from upper stories of buildings. We camped out a little way, from town until the 2nd of August when we again took the cars to Stannton (?), and thence to Millborough and remained there until the 5th, and at 6 p.m. marched out 5 miles and camped on Cowlick Creek, or River. (Remember we left the railroad at Millsborough.) I remember a church or school house stood where we camped. On the 6th we marched 12 miles to warm springs. On the 7th we marched 12 miles and camped on Back River. On the 8th we marched 11 miles and camped at Huntersville in Pocahontas County. We camped in the bottom near town and the rain and mud were terrible. Many of the boys were taken sick and it looked like all of us would soon be down. Col. Savage asked Genl Donnelson to let him move us out of the mud and up on the mountainside. The Genl said "no," but Savage moved us up in the timber near a good spring, and had to convert the owner of the spring before he would let us have water. I took a severe cold and could taste measles and I thought I was "a goner." I thought of home and mother, but I am here yet, telling you about war. Whortle (?) and blackberries are getting ripe on those mountains, and some of the ???? slipped out with their guns, eat berries and hunt ??? deer. I have never heard an old Soldier say that he wanted to go back to Huntersville. In my next I will carry you from Huntersville.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 7

     On the 11th of November we bundled our duds and started again, crossing Greenbriar River late in the evening and camped at Marlain bottom. On the 12th we marched all day and camped. On the 13th we marched all day and camped near Frankford. On the 14th went near Lewisburg and remained there until the 16th and then went through Lewisburg and out 3 miles and camped. The weather was getting pretty cold in the Va. Mountains and we had log heap fires. This is the place where Bill Hodge and Jim Richardson quarreled about midnight, when Hodge hit Richardson and Richardson hit the ground. We were all getting tired of the rain, snow and mud in Western Va. and anxious to leave. On the 1st of December, we bundled up again and started crossing Greenbriar River and 2 creeks and camped. On Monday the 2nd we passed through Union City at 10 a.m. and camped that night in 3 miles of salt sulphur springs. On the 3rd we passed through Centreville and camped on Kibble Mountain, in 3 1/2 miles of red sulphur springs. On the 4th we marched all day and camped near Peterstown. On the 5th we marched to New River, then up this same 2 miles and crossed on ferry boats, then up the river 5 miles and crossed Wolf Creek on a bridge and camped. On Friday the 6th we passed through Parisburg and 8 a.m. and going 13 miles further crossed Walker Creek on a bridge, thence up Little Walker Creek, crossed it on a bridge and camped. We had not seen or heard a steam whistle since the 5th of August, and were anxious to get a glimpse of the cars. On the 7th we marched most all day and camped in 1/2 mile of Dublin Depot. While at that place we related to each other our experience in the rain and mud, and of the boys who spread their blanket and slept all night on the big Rattler. Crocket Ward came up with one shoe gone, and told of running his arm down after it, but failed to find it, and then got out on the bank and dive after it but could not get deep enough. We took a good rest there, knowing that we would soon move again. On the 11th of December we packed our chattles, marched out to Dublin Depot, got on the cars at 8 a.m. and at 8 p.m. were back at old Lynchburg on the James. On the 12th we went to Petersburg a nice little city 22 miles south of Richmond. On the 13th we left Va. and went to Weldon N.C.. I believe that is in Halifax County and that Tar River runs through it. I sometimes tell the boys that I have been to Halifax and crossed Tar River. On Saturday the 14th we started again, on the Eastern Atlantic Coast line, passing the beautiful little city of Goldsboro, and many other places. I remember the pine orchards were beautiful, and more sedge (?) grass than I ever saw elsewhere. Some one would approach the train at each stop and want to sell a fresh rabbit. I would like to travel that route again. I remember at a stop for water or wood, some of the boys left the train, went over into a turnip patch, pulled up some, started back to the train and Col. Savage met them at the fence, took a turnip cut of a fellows hand and warped him over the head with it. I remembered my luck back in Va. with the punkins, and I was afraid to tackle the turnip patch.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 8

     Late in the evening we arrived at Wilmington on Cape Fear River and remained until next morning. That is some 25 or 30 miles from the Atlantic, but the river ebbs and flows with the ocean. There is where we first saw a steam ship with cannon on it. Thousand barrels of turpentine were there. On Saturday morning the tide was up, box cars were rolled out on flat boats, and floated across Cape Fear River to South Carolina. The boxes were then rolled on the railroad tracks, an engine hitched to them and we went to Florence. The next day we went to Charleston and stopped at the soldiers wayside home and remained there that night. The citizens showed us great kindness. Early next morning Andy Moore and Waldo had a hard fight just outside the door. Waldo loved to fight, provided he was confident of success, but if he had doubts, he was slow to take hold. A fellow gave him ??? d__n lie, Waldo looked at him, sized him up and said, "You are not the first man ever told me that." We went through the city and the flowers and roses didn't look much like the cold snowy mountains of Va. we had just left. The harbor was full of ships and boats. We saw Fort Sumpter. Charleston is between the mouths of Cooper and Ashley Rivers. Fire had just burned a good portion of the city, and they said that 900 houses were burned. I would like to see the city of Charleston again. On the 17th we went West 60 miles to Coosawhatchie in Beaufort County. I cannot ask for space in "The Times," to tell all about our wanderings and duty while on the coast. I would like to tell you of Pocataligo how it got its name, of the swamps, and green moss hanging from tops of trees to the ground, the black squirrels and the alligator the boys caught and the 164 lb. cannon ball many boys failed to shoulder. The beautiful piney woods Pages Point. Port Royal has grown to be a town. I remember the big live oak tree near the Stewart house under whose branches I stood guard many nights. An oyster bank was near and when the tide was down we got all we wanted. We could see the Yanks on Beaufort Island one mile distant. We would "halloo" to them and they to us. I heard one say 8th Michigan which meant that he belonged to the 8th Michigan Regiment. Two of the Warren County boys were out in a skiff, grabbing oysters and remained too long, the tide went down leaving their skiff stuck in the mud, and had to remain there until the tide arose and brought them back, which was after dark. That was a fine country for sweet potatoes and stock turnips. I, in company with a messmate, went out one dark night prowling for potatoes and found them stored away and covered with banks of dirt. We hurriedly scratched into one, filled a sack and pulled for camp, expecting to slice and fry some for breakfast next morning. We opened the sack and behold, they were turnips instead of sweet potatoes. I thought again of my punkin luck in Va. For fear I may not think to tell you later I will now say that I never stole a chicken during the war, but helped to eat some that I knew had been stolen. I have seen soldiers go into houses and carry off goods, but I never did such as that. On my next I will carry you away from South Carolina.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 9

     On the 1st morning in January 1862 the roaring of the cannon on the enemy's gunboats were continuous until 12 o'clock. We were ordered to be ready to march at any moment, and started at 2 o'clock, and marched until dark, and halted for the night. One of the boys said "hush boys. I thought I heard a Yankee Officer give command." In breathless silence we listened, and off a little way in the piney woods heard a big owl go "whoo - whoo--ah." Next morning, we learned that the enemy had gone back to their gunboats and we fell back 2 miles and remained 2 days. We were several miles from our blankets, but the pine burs and leaves made good beds. We then went to Page's Point to guard the coast. My pos_ was near the Stewart House, and one mile from Beaufort Island. We had a good time on the coast and got fat on oysters, rice and sweet potatoes. I weighed 185 lbs. One day while the tide was down, one of my messmates and I went out on the sandbar, just below the Causeway leading toward Beaufort Island, and saw some Yanks in a skiff making their way to the point of the island, and we fired on them with our muskets, but failed to hit them. They fired on us with their long range guns and clipped the seagrass close to us and we pulled for the "Live Oak". I will not ask space for many events of interest, but pass on merely touching the high places. The boys would tear up little huts vacated by negroes, catch large rats and eat them. I am one old Rebel who never eat rats, turtles, frogs, and possums, although I saw the time when I would give the world and fullness thereof for a square meal and one good night's rest. In the early days some negroes were carrying cotton to market with one mule and dray, and the mule balked and could not be whipped or persuaded to go, when an old negro came along and said "poke his tail, he go." Afterwards, that place was called Pocataligo. On the 15th of March we went to Grahamville 20 miles west of Pocataligo and camped one mile from town occupying ??? cabins vacated by soldiers who had been there. I remember the long home called the "ballroom". Uncle Sam McCorkle would mount the stage with his fiddle, and all who could dance had a good time. During sand storms we could scarcely see "Old Sol" as the white sand would blow from the drill field. One day while Col. Savage was out, his tent caught fire and burned up. We were learning, making and singing war songs. One was as follows:
"South Carolina gals won't eat mush.
South Carolina gals won't eat mush.
South Carolina gals won't eat mush.
When you go to kiss em
They all say hush.
Get along sambo sound yer horn
We will eat sheep meat and gnaw the bone
And shave old clay when the weather gets warm, etc."
     On the 20th of March the enemy landed at Bluffton and we were ordered to prepare for battle. Next morning, we started, marched 24 miles and learned that the enemy had gone back, and we returned to camp, and most all got back same day having marched 48 miles. Bill Head got back before night and got a pass to Grahamville and back. Bill was as jolly and good natured a fellow as ever broke a hard tack or chewed beef neck in the old 16th. He was always cheerful and I guess the print of his no 10 are not visible in the Cheat Mountain mud in West Va. made there 50 years ago this fall. In my next I will carry you away from S. C.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 10

     Before leaving South Carolina I want to ask Bill Payne if he remembers Genl. Ripley was in command of some of our forces on the coast. We called him "But Cut". He was big over (?) and wide across was why we called him but cut. Genl. Donnelson prefered charges against Col. Savage for violating orders, appointed a court martial and tried him, but was acquitted and restored to his command. We run foot races and had a good time. Fifty years have passed and gone since my first experience in war and you cannot expect one to remember and write about all occurrences. Most of the boys who were with me on the Carolina coast have crossed "over the river" and we who are here yet are growing old and feeble. But I must resume my history. We were ordered to join Genl. Beauregard at Corinth (?) Mississippi the 10th of April. We took the cars at Grahamville at 4 p.m. and next morning at 4 o'clock, arrived at Charleston and remained four hours, and thence to Augusta, Ga. arriving there the 12th at 10 a.m. You will remember the bridges and trestle work over swamps and lakes. Do you remember about the Irishman poking his head out and got knocked off into a swamp, and we supposed killed, but came on the next train? We went from Augusta to Atlanta and remained until next morning. Milledgeville was then the Capitol of Ga. We were ordered to come to Chattanooga and go to Corinth on the Memphis and Charleston R.R. On the 13th we went to Cartersville and heard that the enemy was in possession of Huntsville Ala. on said R.R. and we went back to Atlanta and again received orders to go by way of Chattanooga, and started North again going as far as Day(x)ton (?) and again ordered back to Atlanta. On the 15th we left Atlanta at 5 p.m. and arrived at Newman next day at 1 p.m. This is the place where we had a wreck and killed several horses and bruised up some of the boys, and caused some delay. On the 17th we went to West Point, arriving there at 4 p.m. On the 18th we went to Montgomery, and while waiting for transportation we took in the city and were favorably impressed with the city and the people. Montgomery was the Capitol of the Confederate states for a while and then Richmond, Va. was selected. We took a steamer and started down the Ala. River and arrived at Mobile on the 19th at 10 a.m. Where on earth can you find a river more crooked than the Ala? Mobile is at the mouth of the river emptying into Mobile Bay, and a beautiful city. We were all anxious to visit the places of interest and enjoyed sight-seeing while awaiting transportation. We were yet making and singing new songs, and I remember a portion of one was as follows:
In Alabama they live on peas.
In Tennessee they eat what they please,
In North Carolina tar and roses (?)
Georgia girls eat goobers and sorgum, by and by.
     But I must leave Mobile. On the morning of the 20th we took the train going North, on the Mobile and Ohio R.R. which was then the best road in the South and runs through some fine country, and arrived at Corinth on the 23rd at 1 a.m., and joined the army under Genl. Beauregard. We were 12 days and nights on the route and glad to stop. We met Col. Hill's regiment many of whom were our ??? neighbors and friends. They had been in the battle of Shiloh and told us of their experiences in battle.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 11

     Corinth is in the Northeast corner of Mississippi, and near the Tennessee line about 80 miles East of Memphis and a few miles West of the Tennessee River. We were there about two months, drilling and making breastworks. Genl. Bragg was put in command of our army there which numbered near 80,000. We expected a general engagement while there, but nothing more than heavy skirmishing occurred. I was with a large detail sent down on Cypris Creek to cut timber and blockade the road to keep the Yanks from running over us "rough shod." The water on that country was not good, and we soon got tired of that place and anxious to move. We had tough experience doing picket duty. Our regiment was out on picket duty about one mile in front of our main line, and near the enemy. Shot and shell were flying fast from the Yankee's cannon, but too far for our muskets. A grape shot struck John Grissom (brother of Uncles Jim and Buck) and also struck Wm. Creeley (brother of Uncle John Mooneyham's wife) mortally wounding them. They were as good boys as ever shouldered a musket. That was more than 49 years ago. It always seemed to me that I was kept on the firing line more than my share. Our first twelve months service for which we enlisted expired, and some got out by being over age and some discharged, but most of us re-enlisted for during the war. It became necessary to evacuate Corinth, and fall back to Tupelo. Isaac Howard, one of my messmates died at Corinth, and I assisted in digging his grave, and when he was put in the grave and filled with dirt, a detail of about 4 men fired their muskets into the bank of dirt, which was common after burying the dead who died of sickness. I must leave out many things of interest at Corinth. It was very warm and dry and we started on the march to Tupelo about 50 miles South of Corinth and traveled over ground on which Andrew Jackson marched. The weather was very warm and dry, the water bad and the sand almost hot enough to roast an egg. One day I was sitting out under a shade tree near Col. Savage's quarters listening to him and Col. Donnel talk and I saw Col. Savage put his hand to his face and took something from it, looked at it and said, "Col. Donnel here is a d__m louse. If that was the only one he got at Tupelo, he fell far short of his portion for they seemed to grow in the sand. Uncle Sam McCorkie and Fate Hayes cheered us with fiddle and accordion. We didn't like Tupelo much. Soldiers are like other people, hard to please. We called the Mississippians "Sand Lappers." Forty-nine years have passed since our stay at Tupelo and I leave untouched many things of interest. Some of the Times readers doubtless think that the war didn't amount to much, but be quiet boys, you'?? ??? the patchen (?) later on. Some of the boys were getting tired of war and wished for the close, but oh my! Two of the boys decided to go home and got as far as Chattanooga, arrested and carried back, but we were on the eve of leaving Tupelo, and the boys were not punished. I yet remember a part of Col. Savage's talk to them. They were ??? good soldiers after that as ??? ??? ??? my ??? ??? In my next I will carry you away from Miss. and tell you something of war.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 12

     In my last article I told you of our stay around Tupelo, Miss. and of the hot sand, poor water, and body lice. It was almost impossible to get rid of the lice, because some soldiers were too lazy and trifling to scald their clothes, or even scratch where the lice bit. Their excuse for not scalding their clothes was that boiling clothes would not kill the lice on them. Some soldiers died of filth, and 'tis a wonder to me that body lice - low-down laziness, filth and unaccountedness doesn't kill some people not in war. Laziness, filth and uncleanness are leading many people to the devil. But I am away from my war history and must hasten on.
     In July 1862 we gathered up and bundled our duds and marched to the Depot and took the train and arrived at Mobile the next day. Watermelons were ripe and some of the finest I ever saw were in Mobile. We crossed the Bay in steamer, thence by rail to Montgomery, thence to Atlanta, and thence to Chattanooga. We felt like we were getting near home again and some of the boys couldn't stand the temptation and went home. Chattanooga was at that time a small place. We had a good time there swimming in the River, climbing the path of the lofty "lookout" and viewing other natural scenery. We did not realize matters and conditions ??? ??? We soldiers of "the ditches" were not allowed to know where we were going on all occassions. President Davis and the war department at Richmond decided to regain our lost territory and invade the enemys country. A large army cannot all travel the same road in long marches. In September, part of the army crossed Tenn. River near ??? and started North, while the other part crossed at Chattanooga. Our part crossed at the latter place and went up Tenn. Valley, crossed Waldon's Ridge and to Pikeville. I have never seen Pikeville since. From Pikeville, we came up the mountain and I remember Mr. White lived there. He married a daughter of Dr. Hale who had lived in Spencer. Our Company was detailed to guard and assist the wagon train across Waldon's Ridge and Cumberland Mountain. The weather was dry and hot and water scarce, the dust was very disagreeable. We struck Cane Creek in this county near the mouth at the Baja Crain place, and I slept in the corner of the fence. Good many of the boys visited their people, but most all returned to the company. Jim Martin, George and Mack McBride joined us on the march and enlisted. We went through Sparta and camped about 5 miles above. We left Cookville on our East, and camped one night in Putnam County. Next day we went to Gainsboro, and camped on the bank of Cumberland River below town. Next morning we waded the river, which was very shallow and went up Jennings Creek and on to Tompkinsville, Ky. The weather remained dry, warm and awful dusty. Water was scarce and we were forced to drink from the ponds along the route. Wade in a little and sink our canteens below the green skim. T. A. Head said it was ??? healthy for a soldier. One of the boys said we passed 38 ponds one day and that he drank a canteen of water out of each pond. Don't worry boys, I'll tell you something more if nothing happens.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Art. 13

     We left Tompkinsville and marched to Munfordville, in Hart County. We had a terrible stampede early in the night, and Capt. Lowe of Genl. Donnelson's staff was accidentally killed by one of our own men. When men get stampeded, which always occurs at night, they will run over stumps, fences, bluffs and anything in their way. They don't know what is the matter, and their only aim is to get out of the way. A scared human has less judgment and sense than a bunch of wild steers stampeded in the mountains, and I yet laugh to myself when I think of the stampedes at Munfordsville and Craw Fish Springs. A Yankee garrison of several hundred was there in a Fort, and we expected to have a fight with them, but they surrendered next morning, and we marched on to Glasgow, near Bowlin Green. We had a good rain which allayed the dust and cooled the air. Genl. Rosecrans in command of the Yankee army was west of us and marching north. We marched on to Bardstown which was nearing Indiana. October had set in, and the weather was beautiful. We were in about 40 miles of Louisville. I bought a bushel of shorts and put in our company wagon, but at night when I went for them they were gone. I never knew who got them. The march from Chattanooga to Bardstown was long and tiresome. Occasionally some poor fellow would give out and take refuge with some farmer. Once in a while, some fellow would flop his wings and decide to go no further. Genl. Bragg evidently realized that he was nearing a hornet's nest and changed the direction of our march from North to East. I yet remember that my shoes were almost to pieces and my feet sore and some of the hide worn off, but I resolved to stay in line and go as long as I could walk. From Bardstown we went Eastwardly, intending to meet the other part of the Army under Genl. Kinley Smith, who had just had a fight with the enemy at Richmond, Ky. and drove them back. One company in Col. Hill's Regiment was from this county and in that fight. I may forget to speak of Col. Hill's Regiment later on, and now say to the readers of "The Times" that some of the boys of "Old Van Buren" who followed Hill and Savage were as true, brave and patriotic soldiers as ever marched to the tap of the drum, or through rain and snow, cold and heat, or drop down on the naked earth for a night's sleep, hungry and haversacks empty and at the bugle call next morning, rise foot-sore, weary and hungry, fall in line at roll call, answer "able for duty" and start again. Many of those boys never showed the white feather nor flopped their wings. Many of them were left dead on battle fields and others died in hospitals, with their wings up. A few remained in line until the close, and went down in defeat, but never flopped their wings, and a few of them can yet be found with their wings spread, fighting for God and Democracy. This article will bring you up to the point where you will be prepared to "smell the patches" in my next article. Oh war! war! Some men could put "red tape" and flowery oratory, in war history and make it more interesting than I can, but they know no more about war than I. I hope the time is not far off when wars between nations will cease, and when all nations will be as one united, happy family.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Art. 14

     I told you of our leaving Bardstown and marching Eastwardly. I was not eager for a battle, but very anxious for something better than marching all the time. We passed Perryville, a little village and went ten miles beyond there to Harrodsburg and halted. We never knew what minute we would be called on to start again and consequently did our sleeping in our rags. Near midnight we were ordered in line and marched back to Perryville arriving there early in the morning. Genl. Bragg had decided to engage the enemy in battle there and it took considerable time to get his army in the desired position and was expecting Kirby Smith to re-enforce us in time for the engagement. We were formed in line and awaited the order to march forward. The enemy was about one half mile from us, and the crack of the picket's rifle and the occasional roar of a cannon made me feel sad. The day (Oct. 8th, 1862) was clear and beautiful. It was afternoon when we were ordered to move forward. We crossed a creek or brook, and went out on top of the hill and ordered to halt and reform. We were in sight of the enemy, and it looked to me like the whole face of the earth was covered with Yankees, shot and shell from their batterys made me wish that I was at home but Oh, my! We were ordered forward again. The whole line of battle was expected to keep in line on the forward movement, but some of the boys seemingly anxious to close in on the enemy raised the yell and rushed forward which caused our regiment to get far in advance of our main line, and it is yet a wonder to me that any man in our regiment escaped death. Three batteries of cannon and a brigade of the enemy were directed at our regiment, and the boys were falling dead and wounded all around me, and I thought all would be killed. Some of my school and playmates, neighbors and friends lost their lives there. Twelve Van Buren County boys were killed and mortally wounded on Perryville's bloody battlefield. If you wish to know how a soldier feels in such a battle as that, you must ask someone else. I cannot explain, but I had no hope of getting out alive. Such trials as that has a tendency to temporarily derange the minds of some, at least it was the case with me. If you ask me if I was scared, I answer, I don't know, but I do know that I was scared before we got in the thickest of the fight. We were in 40 yards of the enemy and they were falling fast. I hurriedly glanced to the right and left to see if the main line was engaged. Genl. Maney's Brigade came to our rescue on our right, and saved the remainder of our regiment from being killed and captured. Many times when thinking of that bloody battle, the tears roll down my cheeks, and I cannot force them back now while writing this article. Some sheep and rabbits were between the two lines scared and demoralized, but I paid no attention to them. Some claimed that they never dreaded a battle, and some claimed to have a gizzard full of sand, and others boasted of their long melts, saying they could wrap them around them twice and tie in a bow knot. In my next I will wind up the bloody battle of Perryville and pass on. Don't worry and get too hasty, boys, I will tell you more, if you can bear with me.

C. H. C.

Article 15

     I closed last week while in the hottest of the battle of Perryville. I will now give you the names of my company who were killed and mortally wounded. Wiley Haston, a brother of John Haston was mortally wounded and died next day. Peter Shockley, an uncle of George Haston's wife was a son of Saml. Shockley and lived where Sam Haston now lives was killed dead. Levy Johnson was a son of Andy Johnson and cousin of Wesley Johnson was killed dead. Wm. Jones only son of Davis (and Bersheba )Jones was mortally wounded and died that night. James Moore uncle to Tom Clark and Sallie Smith of McMinnville was killed dead. He had three brothers in the war, one of whom was killed at Murfreesboro and the others wounded in battle. Sam Parker whose people lived in White County was killed dead. John Steakley was killed dead and his brother James mortally wounded and died that night. George Sparkman was severely wounded and took refuge behind a tree but a grape shot from a cannon killed him. I think his father's name was William and lived on Laurel Creek near where Henry Cotton lives. William Wood was a son of Hamlet Wood and lived near Goodbar was mortally wounded and died that night. John E. York a brother to Mrs. E. T. Passons died, was killed dead. John Smalden a boy reared by John M. Billingsley on Cane Creek joined us on our way to Ky. and killed dead making twelve. Others were seriously and slightly wounded. The enemy finally retreated and we followed on. They loaded as they fell back but would whirl and shoot back. So we passed the little cabin on the hill. I was severely wounded through my right side above my hip. We then had them on the run. James Martin was the only living man near me and offered to assist me off the battlefield, but I told him I could make it, and for him to go on and kill all of them. On my way back I passed the boys lying dead, and oh, my! Col. Savage was with us in the thickest of the fight, and was shot through his leg, and his horse (George) was killed. The moaning and sighing of the wounded and dying that night were heart-rending and enough to make any man oppose war. Lieut. Denney Cummings a cousin to Jo Denney Cummings was shot in the mouth breaking his jaw and carrying away about 14 or 15 teeth and we thought would die, but he got over it and rejoined our company and was in the battle of Chickamauga! I would have voted for the war to close then, but oh, shucks! The loss in our Regt. was 199 killed and severely wounded. Genl. Buell of the Yankee Army re-inforced Genl. Rosecrans with 40,000 fresh troops that night, and Genl. Bragg had to evacuate Ky. and hurriedly got matters in shape to move out. The severely wounded could not be carried away, but left in the hands of the enemy. I was very sorry that I had to be left back. The day after the battle, all the wounded who could be moved, were carried up to Harrodsburg, 10 miles from Perryville. I was carried up there and put in the court house, with good many wounded. The army was on the march, by Crab Orchard and on to East Tennessee. The cavalry took up the rear, and I yet remember seeing John T. Haston in line, and he gave me some rations. John is yet living, and has his wings up, has never sold out for a mess of pottage and never will. If I go to war again, I want John with me. Nine of the wounded in the hospital with me died that night. I was fearful that the Yanks would mistreat us Rebs in the hospital, but, I was mistaken. How many old Van Buren boys are living now, who were in the battle of Perryville near 49 years ago!

C. H. C.

Article 16

     Genl. Bragg carried the army to Murfreesboro, and Genl. Rosecrans carried his to Nashville. The weather remained pleasant and beautiful, with no frost until the evening of the 28th of Oct. when it turned cool, clouded up and snowed about 5 inches deep. The timber was yet green and the snow bent and broke down a great deal of it, but next morning the clouds cleared away, the sunshine was pleasant, the snow melted off, and the timber and vegetation not injured. The battle of Murfreesboro was fought the last day of 1862, and the 1st day of 1863, before I was able to rejoin my command. Some of the Van Buren boys were killed there, some of whom were Crocket Moore, whose brother James was killed at Perryville, Isham Hollandsworth, who was a cousin to Wm. Hollandsworth, and Henderson Rhodes who was a brother to Aunt Bettie Madewell, and others whose names I have forgotten. After the battle, Gen. Bragg fell back to Shelbyville, and remained in that section and at Tullahoma during the winter. The Yanks at Perryville ordered me to Bardstown and said I would be conveyed to Louisville and thence by steamer to Vicksburg, Miss. and be exchanged. I didn't like that idea much, and thought I could beat that. I came through some rough country and byways to Tennessee and in February was back with the boys. We faired pretty well at Shelbyville and Tullahoma. Our regiment camped about half mile north of Tullahoma on the west side of the railroad. Tullahoma was then a small place. The army used a great deal of timber for fire, etc. Army regulations were getting strict and many soldiers were getting tired of war, and desenting. A man whose name I have forgotten ran away and carried back 2 or 3 times was court-martialed and condemned to be shot. The day of execution was set, grave dug over across the creek, west of town, and a rough box coffin made and placed at the grave. On the appointed day I went over to witness the execution. The Brigade to which he belonged was formed around to witness the scene was near where I could see the poor fellow. At the appointed hour, an officer with 6 soldiers with their guns marched the poor fellow to the grave and he sat down on his coffin. The officer and guard took position a few yards in front of him, and the officer gave command to the guard was as follows, "ready, aim, fire." At the word fire, all the guns fire simultaneously, and the poor fellow was dead. I never voluntarily saw another man shot. I never thought nor yet think that he should have been shot, but it has to be done in war for example to others. I have always regretted witnessing that execution. Others were executed while we are at Tullahoma. Our regiment escaped very well. I thought that Genl. Bragg should have pardoned the poor fellow, and I never liked Bragg much afterwards. Strict orders were given the police to arrest any man caught with a gun out in the woods, but soldiers will risk very much, violate orders willfully and knowingly. Martin Mitchel was sick and asked his brother Mark to go out and kill a squirrel for him. Mark asked me to go with him. I went, but never took my gun. We went down on west side of railroad and found a squirrel up a tree and Mark banged away at it. I went on the opposite side of the tree from Mark to shake a bush and scare the squirrel back on side of tree next to Mark, and he would bang away again but missed the squirrel. The police heard the shooting and hurriedly came to us and arrested us. I will tell you what became of us in my next article.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 17

     Mark had his gun loaded when the police came up, and the officer in charge told him to shoot off his gun, which he did but missed the squirrel again. They then started with us, and after going about 100 yards, Mark said he had lost his knife under the tree where he had been shooting and must have it. I knew what he meant. We all started back to the tree and when in about 50 yards of it, the officer stopped and told him to go and get it and hurry back. Mark went on, and when near the tree he put his gun to "trail" and I never saw a fellow run so in my life and the police hallooing "halt". He got away by a big majority. They said they would turn me loose if I would give them his name, company and regiment, but you know I never run away to Alabama nor turned traitor, no sir. They carried me over across the creek to the guard-house, and on entering it, behold there were E. T. Passons and others of my company who had been arrested and put there for having their guns out in the woods. We were released the same day without punishment. That was the only time I was arrested during the war. A fellow (I forget his name) did some meanness and was court-martialed, and the sentence was, he should dig up a big oak stump. Tools were furnished and the guard told him to go to digging, but he swore he would not dig up the stump. They "bucked" him awhile, loosed him and ordered him to dig, but he said "no". They "bucked and gagged" him awhile, loosed him again and ordered him to dig, but he said "no, there is no use digging up a stump out in the woods" and he never dug a lick. They kept up the treatment until we had to hike out from there, and he was given his gun and placed in ranks with his command. Three men ran away from the army, went home, but arrested, carried back, court-martialed and sentenced to ride a wooden horse for several days. A guard with their guns was kept there to see that the order was carried out. Two forks were put in the ground about 8 feet apart and a pole put in the forks which was 7 or 8 feet high. They were put astride the pole and kept there for two hours, and then taken down to rest awhile and then mounted again. This procedure went on for several days. A beef's head with horns on was fastened on the front end of the horse (or pole) and the poor fellow astride the pole in front of the other two, and near the beef's head was a preacher, and a broad slip of paper was fastened around his hat, with the following inscription, "COME ON BOYS". Oh, war, war! If that preacher was sanctified, and never fell from grace, still living, voted for Hooper, and gets a pension, he will undoubtedly land where war and wooden horses are no more. Those three men were not members of our Regiment. While at Tullahoma, a vacancy occurred in our Brigade for General, and according to justice and right, Col. Savage should have been appointed, but Isham G. Harris, our Gov. at that time, and Genl. Donnelson were enemies of Savage, and Markus J. Wright, a Lieut. Col. of another regiment received the appointment, and became our Brigadier Genl. Col. Savage felt sore over such treatment and resigned, and D. M. Donnell became our Colonel. He died at Live Oak, Fla. 15 or 16 years ago. He was a first class Christian gentleman and the war not the proper place for him. He made me mad, on the drill field, but I got over it and loved him all the same. While we were around Tullahoma, our relatives and friends visited us and carried cakes, pies and other goodies. We built forts for cannon and made preparations to resist an attack from the enemy. The Yankee army was increased and had part of it on the flank movement and threatening our rear. Many incidents occurred there, which I am compelled to leave untouched, and hasten on. In my next I will carry you away from Tullahoma.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 18

     I closed last week after giving you a brief history of our services near Tullahoma, and told you that I would carry you elsewhere. Genl. Rosecrans was pushing a portion of his army South, on our left flank, but kept the larger portion in front of us. We expected a battle while there, but suppose Genl. Bragg thought it best to move back. We were ordered to pack our duds and get ready for marching. We started South, crossing Elk River at Allisona and on by Deckard. We left the railroad to our right and crossed a spur of the mountain, passing through some little village and on to Tennessee River, and my recollection is, we crossed the river near the mouth of Battle Creek. We then went on, and the road went under the railroad bridge that crossed Running Water Creek, and on to "White Sides", a station on the railroad in 13 miles of Chattanooga. We got transportation on the railroad from there to Chattanooga, and camped. Worked on forts and made preparations for war. What is now Hill City, was then called Stringer's Hill, and only one or two houses. Capt. George Carter had been captured and put in Fort Delaware Prison, but escaped, swam the Bay and came to us while at Chattanooga. The Yanks kept closing in on us, and advancing South above and below Chattanooga. The hot days of August had passsed and the beautiful September weather was upon us. We knew that something was in store for us but couldn't tell what. Some of the boys had enough, left us, made their way home and never saw them anymore until after the close of the war. About the middle of September, Rosecrans, with a portion of his army were in Lookout Valley, moving South and we were ordered to get busy. We left Chattanooga and went to Craw Fish Springs, and in the early part of night we were resting, waiting for some obstacle in front of us to get out of the way, when a team ran away, making a terrible racket, and stampeded our Division. We did not know what was the matter, and ran in every direction, some hallowing Oh, Lordy and some say run boys. If I go to war any more, I pray the Lord to deliver me from stampedes. While near Craw Fish Springs, Jim Martin went out and procured about one peck of irish potatoes, and we had a fine meal. Jim was a good messmate, always did his part and when ??? had to be done, he never failed. Jim was a good soldier, always in line and now when the political parties are lined up for action I know where to find him. On the 18th we crossed Chickamauga at Lee & Gordon's Mill and went to Lafayette, 10 miles south of the mill. Genl. Bragg decided to give the enemy battle at Chickamauga, and we were ordered back. On the morning of the 19th we crossed the creek again at the said mill, and moved Eastwardly a short distance, then halted and reformed. A portion of the army was then engaged in battle, and the cannons booming. We knew our time was near. Orders were given to "double quick" and we pressed forward, knowing that we would soon be engaged. Col. Donnel told us to be careful and not shoot our pickets, as they fell back to our line. In advancing in the woods, Jim Martin said "Yonder they are", and Col. Donnel said "Don't shoot. They are our men", but Jim said, "Our men, hell", and bang went his gun, which opened the ball for us. The Yanks were swinging around and never saw us, as their attention was directed to the firing on our right. Those in front of us fell back to their battery, and the grape and canister flew apparently as thick as blackbirds. In my next I will finish telling you of the great battle.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 19

     I closed last week, while in the thickest of the fight and will now finish. Our Brigade at that time composed the left wing of our line, and the enemy's line extended ours and captured our Battery of 4 cannon on our left, commanded by Capt. Carnes. Genl. Longstreet with his command came up on our left, engaged the enemy and assisted in recapturing Battery. The loss of our Battery so early in the battle, and the enemy flanking our left, almost demoralized our men, until we saw Genl. Longstreet coming to our aid. The battle was raging terribly on our right. A minnie bill (?) clipped my canteen strap, and down it went, but I picked it up and put it in my haversack. The boys were falling, killed and wounded all around. A grape shot struck a tree a little way from me, and a piece of bark struck my nose a glancing lick, tearing off a lot of hide, and made a scab for awhile. I thought at first that my nose was shot off, but plenty was left. Capt. Parks was mortally wounded near me and I saw Mark Mitchel assist in getting him off. Tom Mooneyham was shot through the leg. Our line was being thinned, and I took a quick glance to see if I was left alone, and a few steps to my left stood Bill Payne banging away, and a load of grape shot from a cannon struck the g?? in front of us and flew by us like a drove of pheasants. We saw that our line had fallen back a short distance and we went back and reformed. The battle on our right was still raging fiercely. Gard Green lost a leg while standing very close to me. Night came on and we lay in line all night. It turned cold, and a heavy frost on the ground next morning. The moans and cries of the wounded on the field between our lines during the night were terrible and pitiful, but dangerous to go to their rescue. On the morning of the 20th the battle was opened again. Genl. Breckenridge on our right advanced and opened the fight, and the battle was terrific the whole day. Our Division was held in reserve to be used at some critical point and time. The time and point came in the evening when Genl. Cheatham was ordered to move us to the extreme right of our line, and between sundown and dusk we formed in line and advanced on them and they left their works and fell back to Rossville and were in possession of the field. So you see that I was in the last charge at the great battle of Chickamauga. We rested that night on the battlefield with dead and wounded all about us. I would then have voted for the war to close, but oh, my! Forty-eight years have come and gone since then, and not many Van Buren boys living now, who were in that battle. I was back on the ground last October and you cannot imagine my feelings. But I must go on. We then marched back this way and took position on Missionary Ridge, and the enemy in and around Chattanooga. The Yankee army was being recruited, but ours diminished. Our Regiment took position at the western foot of the ridge, and were in sight of Chattanooga. Occasionally the Yanks would send a cannon ball to us, to let us know that they were there. Parson Dewitt, our Chaplain, preached for us every Sunday, when we were still. His favorite song was "Jesus, lover of my soul". You might as well preach to a drove of wild hogs as a lot of soldiers. I have seen boys with blanket spread on the grounds, playing cards in a few steps of the preacher while preaching. I think Dewitt was a Presbyterian, and a good man. My recollection is, that he continued with us until the end. I will move out from the ridge in my next.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 20

     The enemy was invading East Tennessee and threatening to cross the river near the mouth of Hiwassee. Our Regiment was ordered to prepare to march out from Missionary Ridge. I think that was early in October 1863. We started sometime during the night and marched to some point on the railroad and took the train for Charleston on Hiwassee River. Some of the soldiers were always ready to prowl through the country, kill hogs, sheep, chickens, etc., and some of the citizens called for protection. Capt. Randals asked me to go, and protect the property of a widow, up the river from Charleston. I went and watched over her property. I have learned since the war that she was the mother of Crede Bates. The enemy was slowly and gradually penetrating our right and left flank. We were getting discouraged and wishing for the war to close, but oh, my! Several of the boys were tired of war and decided to go home. Mrs. Bates had one son and four grown daughters at home, and all treated me nicely. Drawing some of our troops from Missionary Ridge weakened our line, of which the enemy took advantage and stormed the ridge. We were ordered back to the ridge as quick as possible. The enemy broke our line on the left of our Division, demoralizing our men and were compelled to fall back. We lost what we gained in Chickamauga. November was upon us, and we knew there would not be much fighting during the winter. We fell back to Dalton and went into winter quarters. The night we arrived at or near Dalton was cold, wet and stormy and almost impossible to have fire. I yet remember that I suffered with cold all night and never slept any. Next day, encampment was selected and our Regiment located about 3 miles Southeast of Dalton for the winter. We erected little cabins and daubed with mud, and made chimneys of wood and clay. Water and firewood were handy, and we passed off the time there very well. The citizens made complaint that the soldiers were killing and carrying off their hogs, chickens and other stuff and asked for protection. Capt. Randals asked me to take my gun and ammunition and go out to A. C. Leeks on Conasauga River, and protect him in his property. I went and did my duty, and was well treated by the family. They were "well to do" people, had a good farm and several negroes. On going to the barn lot one morning, found that 5 or 6 geese were missing, and I knew had been taken by soldiers, but did not know what part of the army had taken them, whether Tennesseans, Georgians or from other states. Mrs. Leek fell from grace when I told her. I went to camp that day to see how the boys were getting along, and in going around, I found to my surprise, Mrs. Leek's geese snugly quartered in my Regiment being stuffed with dough. I mentioned the matter, and one of the boys said for me to keep my mouth shut, and I decided it might be best and never told on the boys. Van Buren boys were innocent in that matter. I got acquainted with good many people who lived near Leek. Mitchels, Hollands, Kirkseys, McAfees and others. Mrs. Leek kept a switch on the mantle in her room to whip a negro girl, when she needed it. One night the little children were playing, having a good time and turned a churn of milk over the hearth, and Mrs. Leek fell from grace again, took down the switch and warped it on little Florence's back, and Mr. Leek took the switch, broke it and threw it in the fire, then Mr. L. give him a lick in the short ribs, he shoved her back, she came again with a "Jo.darter" (?) and he sent her to the wall, but she started for him again, and he said "Don't come again Jane" and the fight ended.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 21

     I closed last week telling you of the loss of a churn of milk, and the fight. I never told you the funny part of it. Mr. Leek had given me a pair of boots, but heels worn off of them, and they were very slick. I grabbed for the churn, hoping to save some of the rich milk, but my boots slipped and down I went, taking a seat in the milk on an old-time hearth and my boots under the forestick of an old-time log fire. The milk was thick, was 3 or 4 inches thick on the hearth. Mr. L. laughed and grabbed me to help me out of the fire, and if Mrs. L. had not lost her temper, they surely had a good one on me. I went to the wood pile, got chips, etc. and scraped the most of the milk from my pants. They pouted for several days and the matter was never mentioned during my stay there. I have not exaggerated in this matter. ??? are solid facts. I took no side in the fight, and guess I did ??? Some soldiers were bad court-martialed and put in "stocks" but others went, liberated the prisoners and destroyed the stocks, which came near, having war among ourselves. The winter was the coldest in my memory and the last day of 1863 and the first day of 1864 were the coldest days since the days of Adam. The Chaplains in our Brigade decided to hold a few days meeting and erected a brush harbor a short distance from our Regiment and during services one night, a wind storm blew down a tree and killed 3 or 4 of the mourners. We were cut off from home and home communication and had not much hope of ever meeting again the loved ones at home. Preachers referred to the facts and had but little trouble in persuading boys to the mourner's bench. "A worldly sorrow." I thought of earthly home sweet home and cried, but never went to the mourner's bench, thinking it best to whip the Yanks and then go home. But it took me a long time to "clean 'em up". I have said enough of our soldier life near Dalton. Mr. L. sold his farm and refugeed to Southwest of Ga., and they requested me to go to them in case I got sick or wounded. Spring time came on, and we knew something would take place. Genl. Sherman had pushed a portion of his army across Tenn. River and was in Lookout Valley, Ga., and threatening our communications. Genl. Burnside with a considerable force of Yanks had possession of Knoxville and threatened us on our East flank. About the first of May, Genl. Jo Johnston ordered us to get busy. His army was in good condition and ready to do as he commanded. We left our winter quarters and from that day until the surrender was "sure enough war." Every day and almost every hour during the three months from Dalton to Atlanta the roar of a cannon or the sound of a rifle could be heard. It was fortunate for us that Jo Johnson was our commander. Some Generals would have had us all killed in the campaign from Dalton to Atlanta, but "Old Jo" (as we called him) wished to avoid the sacrifice of his men's lives, unless when forced to. It is 100 miles from Dalton to Atlanta, most of it might be called a battlefield. Sherman had his host in our front and kept a heavy force on our left, pushing South. Rations were scarce and no such thing as a solid night's rest. Among our killed at Resacca was Col. Stanton, a brave and gallant man. Our Regiment supported a Battery in that engagement. I shall never forget New Hope Church house and the fight there, and the night attack made on Cleiburn's Division getting close to Granbury's and Lowry's Brigades, but repulsed with heavy loss. The darkest night I ever saw was during our march near New Hope. A soldier stepped out in the bushes, bang went his gun and he hallooed "Oh, Lordy", and someone yelled out "You done it on purpose to get a discharge." Oh war, war! Keep cool boys. I am not yet done, but will likely hasten on and leave out much that would interest you.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 22

     Do not forget when I closed last week. We were hugging close to "Rocky Face Ridge to Kenesaw Mountain." On the 27th of June, Sam Baker was killed on picket duty between the lines. Jeff Hillis married his daughter (I believe). Sam was a jovial, lively, good-hearted and brave soldier. I think Wm. Lowry of Warren County was killed the same day. I very well remember the day Sam was killed. It would take a book of many pages to contain events and occurrences from Dalton to Atlanta. We were getting ragged and never got a chance to wash our rags except to wade into Creek River or pond, pull off, rub and scrub without soap, rinse the best we could, wade out, put them on wet, and be ready for any order. Oh the Ga. campaign! Many of the boys quit before those memorable days, and a few of them gave out and stopped to be picked up by the Yanks as they advanced, but I pulled on tired and ragged, hungry and discouraged. I think that Genl. Polk was killed the 14th of June. We all loved Genl. Polk. I well remember the place. We had some heavy rains while near "New Hope Church." We had a considerable fight near Adairsville. We threw down a fence and piled the rails in front of us to protect our heads from shots from small arms. A grape shot struck the pile in front of me and a rail hit Sam Worthington by my side and came near killing him, but he banged away, and he never flickered in any battle. Genl. Sherman had twice as many men as Genl. Johnston. Genl. Quarles Brigade of 2000 men re-inforced us which gave us some encouragement. After Genl. Polk was killed, Genl. Loring was put in command of the Corps. About 7000 Yanks were killed in the battles near New Hope.
     On the 27th of June Genl. Sherman made a disastrous attack on our Division and Genl. Cleburnes at a place called the "Dead Angle" and was repulsed with heavy loss. The enemy's loss in killed in front of our Division was estimated at 800. Our Regiment was in position near to and east of Dead Angle. Our Battery was stationed by my Company, and it poured shot and shell in the ranks of the enemy. The enemy knew that if our line could be broken at the Angle an enfilade (?) fire would demoralize and route us, but they failed to capture the point notwithstanding they pressed forward and some of them killed in a few feet of our line. Two days afterward, a truce was observed to bury the dead, during which all was quiet.
     I was out on picket duty the day of the burial, and several were buried near me. During battle, the pickets retire to the main line but after the battle, pickets are put out between the lines.
     Genl. Sherman found that he could not break our line by direct assault, resorted to his usual tactics of flanking us and kept pushing South on our west. Major Genl. A. P. Stewart was put in command of a corps composed of three Divisions commanded by Genl. Loring, French and Walthall. During the midnight hour, about the last of June, a volley of musketry was heard off to our left, which excited us very much but the firing soon ceased, and next morning we inquired the cause of the firing, and they said that a Brigade fired on the lightning bugs. These things seem fresh to my memory.
     While our line was in position on Kenesaw, our pickets were stationed at the western foot of the mountain and I was detailed to take W. H. Head, Polk Douglas, ___ Butler and another whose name I have forgotten, locate the enemy and hold the fort. We selected a place, dug a pit, got in it and made it hot for the Yanks that day. They were near the road leading to Marietta, on higher ground than we were and we had that advantage of them. We were in the edge of the woods and they evidently thought we were in the main line. We kept banging away at them and they at us. We had more pickets off some distance to our right and left. In my next I will move out and tell you something of war.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 23

     I left you last week while on picket duty, and must tell you a little more about it. It seemed to me that Genl. Sherman concentrated all his artillery and turned loose on my little squad. We were at the foot of a slope and they couldn't get quite low enough but finally a cannon ball struck the little bank of dirt in our front, tearing it into smithereens and the little log on top of dirt for our head protection struck my head and oh, my! Butler jumped out and got behind a tree just to our rear. I called him back and told him we would hold the fort. The little log striking me on the head gave me much pain breaking the scalp and the scar is there yet, I guess. Ask Bill Payne about that day. He was back in the main line but could see what was going on. Ask Bill Head, he was with me. About dusk we went back to the line. I bathed my head, slept some, and reported for duty next morning. Oh war, war! Genl. Sherman kept pushing South on our left flank, which kept us on the move day and night. One day while sitting and lying out behind our works, some of the boys got into a controversy concerning a battery which was occasionally firing a shot. It was off considerable distance to our left and we were not sure whether it was ours or the enemy's battery, when Andy Youngblood raised his index finger, pointing and said, "I bet you $5 that is a Yankee battery." And a stray ball from a Yankee picket clipped off his finger. The hot, scorchy, sunny days of July were on us, and we were near the Chattahoochee River. Something to eat and wear were getting slim with us while the Yanks had plenty and men to spare. We all loved Genl. Johnson and had the utmost confidence in him and when he said go, we went. We finally crossed Chattahoochee River and were nearing Atlanta. Our line was back from the river some distance, but our pickets near the river and the Yanks likewise on the north side of the river. A fellow would almost meet during the hot days while in the little "dug outs." The Yank pickets would halloo to us and we to them, and occasionally agree to leave our guns, go to the shade on the bank of the river and they do the same on their side. I had some experience in that line. Finally some fellow would yell out, "rats to your holes" and all would do their very best to get back to the pit before the enemy. One day I was suffering for water and made my way hurriedly down the river to a spring, but the Yankee pickets fired at me. The spring was surrounded by a cluster of underbrush and could not be seen by the Yanks. I drank some water, filled my canteen and oh, how I dreaded to start back! knowing they would shoot at me. I started at full speed, just touching the high places and they fired at me but I outrun the ??? President Jeff Davis and the Department at Richmond knew that we were "getting in a hole", and that the only way to get out and continue the war, was to fight. "Old Jo" evidently knew that the end of the war was near and that it would be disastrously to the South, and his object seemed to be to go honorably to the end and avoid the useless sacrifice of many lives as possible. Genl. Hood was for fighting every day and night and if he had been in command from Dalton to Atlanta the most of us would have been killed. About the 18th of July Genl. Hood was put in command and we knew something would happen. The change never took well with us, and sorrow, gloom and discouragement ran high. On the 20th our Division and Cleburne's were formed in line of battle and ordered forward, and on reaching the top of a hill we could see the Yanks in their trenches a little way from the foot of the hill. The order to flank to the right was not heard by 2 or 3 of us, and we pressed forward to the foot of the hill. Sam Worthington was with me and we fired at them all evening. I fired 60 rounds, and think he did the same. At night, we fell back and found our Regiment ??? (can't read the rest of the line)

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 24

     In my last I told you of the battle on July 20th near Atlanta. Jim Martin was in the fight but understood the order at the top of the hill to right flank, and attacked the enemy to the right of Sam and me. Ben Lack was with Sam and me. A boy not of our Regiment was killed near us. We were near a clump of bushes in a fence row, which was to our advantage. Shot and shell flew thick and fast and plowed up the sand and dirt all about us. On the 22nd we were double-quicked from place to place, finally marched through Atlanta and on eastwardly a short distance and formed in line of battle. Before starting forward, our Genl. rode in front of us and told us that we had retreated far enough, that we would find the Yanks in their breastworks, but that we would whip them and go on back to old Tennessee. Some of the boys yelled and appeared to be eager, but oh, how I dreaded! We went forward and soon found them intrenched, but they "gave way" and we found them again, in their 2nd line of works, but we drove them back to their 3rd and last line, and when in a few yards of their last line I received a severe wound in my arm, which sent me to the rear. In going back I passed dead and dying, among whom was Jim Biles of McMinnville (I thought). He called for water, and I gave it to him from my canteen. I thought that he would be dead in a short time. The blood was flowing from my arm and paining me much. In going back searching for the field hospital I came to a bunch (?) of water, where at least 200 stragglers were ???, who were not in the fight, but following on the "rifle" the pockets of the dead. I now take the opportunity to tell the "Times Readers" that many old soldiers never paid for the salt put in their bread. But back to the branch again. My arm was hurting and I decided to bathe it in cold water. I took off my canteen, expecting to fill it with water and carry back with me. After bathing my arm for awhile I reached for my canteen and some straggler had taken it. He was no good before in times of ??? ??? (Can't read the end of the page). I soon found the field hospital, where the wounded were being taken for treatment. The doctors were amputating legs and feet, arms, hands and fingers and dressing wounds. Dr. Leek examined my arm, dressed it and gave me a drink of whiskey. I was tired and sleepy, but the cries and moans of the wounded kept me from rest, but in a short while I took a nap. The battle was over, but amounted to almost nothing in our interest. The enemy had 3 or 4 to our 1. Genl. McPherson of the Yankee Army was killed in front of us. I believe Jack Agent of our Company was killed that day. He was small and young. Next day I was carried to the railroad, put on car and sent to Macon, 100 miles south of Atlanta, and put in Ocmulge Hospital, where a great many wounded and sick were sent. A soldier from Missouri occupied a bunk close to me who lost an arm and a leg on the 22nd. I suffered a great deal with my arm, had to take morphine to enable me to sleep. Gangrene (now called blood poison) set up in my arm, matter collected below the wound, and my arm, hands and fingers were terribly swollen and a doctor at Macon said amputation was the only remedy, but I hated to give it up, cried and begged to risk it. I got a fellow to help me to the depot, and I took the train for Dawson, near where lived Mr. Leek, who refugeed from Dalton with whom I stayed and who requested me to go to him if I ever got sick or wounded. On my arrival there I was in bad shape, and he called in his family physician, (his name was Roushenburg), who examined my arm and left morphine. He visited me often, and knew what he was doing. At the proper time he lanced my arm and it began to heal at once. Genl. Hood had taken the remnant of his little army and started North, but Genl. Thomas with a host of men was ready to repel and drive back Hood's little crowd. Genl. Sherman with his host marched to the sea burning houses and cities, devastating the whole country, telling old men, women and children that "war is hell". There were no Rebels in his way.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 25

     Genl. Hood with his little army was in Tennessee and I in Southwest Georgia. I was unable for service, but restless and wanted to be with the boys. Mr. Leek was conscripted and carried to the army of Virginia, and I went to Cuthbart Hospital, which is 120 miles from Macon. I got the doctor to give me a discharge from hospital which insured me transportation. I came to Atlanta, thence to Montgomery and down the river to Mobile, and then by railroad to Corinth. The cold winter days were on us, and rations very scarce. A good old man in Georgia gave me a hat and pair of shoes. From Corinth, I started North "a foot" to find the boys (if any left). I found them and the night we were at Columbia, in Maury County, it snowed and the ground froze. I slept with Sqr. Jo Cummings and Ad Fisk, under a little "dog fly", the size of a table cloth. Now my dear friends, let me say to you that those days cannot be forgotten by those who were there, as long as life and memory last. Empty haversacks, clothes worn out, our little army, few in number, discouraged and exhausted. When we got out from under our little dog fly to get ready to flee from the host in pursuit of us, my hat and shoes were gone, leaving me barefoot and bare head, with a little January skift of snow and the ground frozen. Several of the boys in our Regiment said, "No use going any further," and they started East. I saw them leave, and never thought hard of them for leaving. Oh war, war! I decided to follow on and if alive would see the end. Before going far my feet got sore and very cold. My little dog fly was to protect me at night, but I had to resort(?) to it to save my feet by tearing off strips, wrap around my feet and repeat when absolutely necessary. We went South and the Yankee host after us. We went to Corinth Miss., thence to Mobile, Alabama, and then to Montgomery, and from there to Atlanta, Georgia. The weather was getting milder. We went from Atlanta to Augusta and the February days were pleasant. Augusta is on the Savannah River. We crossed the river to Hamburg, South Carolina and left the railroad. Our march and wanderings from there to the piney woods of the "Old Tar Heel State", North Carolina appears dreamy to me and I cannot call to mind many places over which we marched but I was there all the time. When we ??? ??? ???, Old Jo took charge of us again and a reorganization of the army took place. The remnant of our old Regiment (which once numbered 1000 in 10 Companys) was cut up and made two small Companys. Frank York recommended me to Old Jo for promotion, and he promoted me to Lieutenant, to command half of the (then) old 16th Tenn. Regt. We had a little fight at Bentonville, North Carolina and came near killing every man in one Yankee Regiment. I have left untouched, very many interesting events, for instance the Battle of Franklin, Tennessee in which many brave commanders and soldiers were killed, of whom was Genl. Cleburne, Genl. Carter and others. My dear friend and schoolmate, N. B. Hamrick (?) was killed there. His father and family lived out two miles from here at the place now called the Hill place, on the road to Farris Griffiths. N. B. had three brothers in the war and all came through alive. The family came from North Carolina a few years before the war, and it has been said, brought the first yellow horse to this country. I yet remember the names of the whole family, as follows: Uncle Billy, Aunt Polly, Jeroam, Napoleon Bonapart (killed at Franklin), Jereboam, Zorobabel. Doctor Cortez and Don Pedro were the boys, and two girls named Martha Salena, and Mary Boston. All except Jeroam were my schoolmates. I forgot to tell you that Genl. Sherman in his march to the sea claimed to have destroyed $200,000,000 worth of property and many old people and little children turned out in the cold to freeze and starve. I also forgot to speak of the Yankee prisoners at Andersonville, Georgia, and the hanging of the superintendant of the prison after the war, and the eternal punishment to be meted out to those who condemned him to death.

C. H. C.

Spencer. Article 26

     Those who have been reading "The Times" could see from my last article that I was nearing the close of the war, and you will remember that we were in North Carolina. Sherman had made his famous "march to the sea", applying the torch to houses, and taking what little the people had to subsist on, depriving old men and women and innocent children of food and shelter. On the 9th of April, Genl. Lee surrendered his little army to Genl. Grant and his host. We heard the news and knew the end was near. Times were squally with us. The first of January 1863, President Lincoln proclaimed the Negroes free, thereby abolishing African slavery in the United States. They were furnished blue uniforms, mustered into service, muskets put in their hands and put in the field against the South. About 165,000 Negroes and many foreigners fused with the North and our only remedy was to quit. I have no ill will towards any old Federal soldier, but they must excuse me when I say that Sherman's march to the sea was the most disgraceful campaign that ever blotted the pages of history. Some of his men entered houses, carried out furniture, and made fires of it on which they would broil their meat. Genl. Sherman (as I have often heard) told the Southern women that he would let them know that war was hell. President Lincoln was assassinated, the news of which brought sorrow and sadness to our little army. We had been slandering and speaking evil of him for four years, but when he was murdered, we would gladly have put flowers on his coffin. If he had lived, the reconstruction period would have been more pleasant. Soldiers will have fun and amusement, same as other people. We made and sung many songs, called war songs, and during a few days of rest which occurred occassionally, we would fiddle and dance, sing and play cards. One of our songs began as follows:
"Old Abe Lincoln keeps kicken up a fuss,
I think he better stop it for he only makes it wuss,
We will have our independence, I tell the reason why,
Big pig, little pig, root hog or die, etc."

     We added a verse to Dixie as follows: "Dixie Land is a land of cotton, when a poor man dies he is soon forgotten, look away, etc." I learned and sung many songs. Dixie was my favorite until Hooper captured it when he was nominated for Gov. But I must go back to North Carolina. April was beautiful and barefooted boys could get along all right. There are very few now living who were with me at the close. I don't at this moment remember a single one now living in Van Buren, who left with me the 15th of May 1861 and with me at the close. On the 26th of April 1865 we were near Greensboro, North Carolina and President Davis and the Department at Richmond were on the way South to escape capture, and Genl. Jo Johnston surrendered one of the grandest little armies that ever marched forth to battle. We were in rags, and with empty haversacks, and discouraged, but ready for battle when the command to arms was given. All was quiet in line and many brave boys shed tears. I was glad and sorry too. Glad the war was over and sorry we had to give it up. The boys who missed the Georgia campaign in 1864 and Hood's raid too, and retreat from Tennessee escaped the hardest part of the war. Our guns were stacked in good order, and many boys were anxious to start home. Our paymaster had a little silver, and we drew $1.25 each. The cavalrymen drew $26.00 each. In my next I will tell of our return to Old Tennessee.

C. H. C.

Article 27

     I copied Genl. Johnston's farewell address to his little army to bring home with me. The boys kept a brush light while I drew several copies for them. We had been cut off from home communication for nearly two years, and knew nothing of the loved ones at home, and they knew nothing of us. We went to Genl. Cheatham's quarters one night and called on him for a speech, hoping to get words of cheer from him. At first he declined, but we succeeded in getting him up. He advised us to return to our homes and be loyal citizens. He said that his Division once numbered 8000 men, and out of that number 3500 had been killed and wounded. This will seem unreasonable to you until I explain. Of course the killed were counted only once, but a great many were wounded several times and counted one each time, for instance I was wounded at Perryville, KY and counted one, and was wounded again at Atlanta, GA and counted one again, thus making me counted two wounded. You can see at this ratio how Genl. Cheatham's statement was plausible and doubtless correct. We all honored and respected Genl. Cheatham. His home was in or near Nashville. I remember he was a large man and enjoyed smoking his pipe. My favorite Generals were R. E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, G. L. Beauregard, B. F. Cheatham, Leonidas Polk, N. B. Forest, Joseph E. Johnston, W. B. Bate, J. C. Breckinridge, Wm. Hardee, Pat Cleiburn, and G. G. Dibrell. Polk was killed in the Georgia campaign and Cleiburne at Franklin, Tennessee. We were under Genl. Zollicoffer at Camp Trousdale in the beginning of the war but we went to Virginia and Zollicoffer remained in Tennessee in command of a small army and went into Kentucky and attacked the army at ??? or Mill Creek. He was killed in the battle there. We all loved him and regretted his death. He was brave, true and Christian gentleman, and I love to think of him.

First in the fight and first in the arms
of the white winged angels of glory,
with the heart of the South at the feet of God,
and his wounds to tell the story.
The blood that flowed from his hero heart,
On the spot where he nobly perished,
Was drunk by the earth as a sacrament
in the holy cause he cherished.
In heaven a home with the brave and blest,
And for his soul's sustaining,
The atoning blood of his Savior, Christ,
And nothing on earth remaining.
But a handful of dust in the land of his choice,
A name in song and story,
And fame to shout with immortal voice,
"Dead on the field of glory".

     Zollicoffer was the first Confederate Genl. killed and Genl. Cleiburne was one of the last. I intended to give you a sketch of our travels from the place where we surrendered to our homes in this article, but branched off on other events, and will likely tell of our return in next article. I am glad that some of the readers of "The Times" take great pleasure in reading my articles, and I would suggest that they make scrap books of the articles, which might be preserved and read with interest by future generations.

C. H. C.

Article 28

     I told you last week that I would tell you of our trip homeward. We were anxious to start, which caused us to look westward across the Blue Ridge towards old Tennessee, our native land. We were yet subject to orders and waited for the order, "Let's go home". We were allowed to bring any personal effects we had, and started. On our arrival at Salisbury, Genl. Cheatham had us form in line, and he passed in front from right to left with tears running down his cheeks as he said "farewell". He went South for a few days before returning to his home. That was the last time I ever saw Genl. Cheatham. We then left the railroad and marched westward. I have forgotten the places we passed on the route, but a railroad route had been surveyed and graded. On reaching Catawba River in Rowan County, we found the recent rains had swollen it, and was pretty full to wade, but that was the only chance. We pulled off our rags and plunged in and when we crossed, redressed, started again, and in a few minutes came to another fork of the river fuller than the first, but we splunged it and pulled on westward. Finally we arrived at the eastern foot of Blue Ridge, and as we came up the Ridge, were in a terrible hail storm. I believe we camped one night on the ridge. The high peak, north of the place we crossed looked as though it might be inhabited by angels. The road down the western slope of the ridge to Ashville on French Broad River was good. Ashville was then a small place, but now a city and summer resort. We came on down French Broad on the north side to Paint Rock and left the river marching northwestwardly, and finally arrived at Greenville East Tennessee. It had been 24 days since we surrendered. We had not heard a steam whistle since we left Salsbury, N.C. and the long march made us eager for railroad transportation. We saw good many Negro soldiers with the blue uniforms on, and occasionally we heard a saucy Negro say, "O, yes, de bottom rail on top now." They made fun of our rags, and my blood has never quit boiling yet. We had surrendered and took an obligation to keep the peace, be loyal, etc., but if we had met those saucy Negroes a few days before the surrender, they would have "smelt the patchen." We boarded the cars at Greenville and came to Knoxville, thence to old Chattanooga. The Tennessee boys were taking near cuts for home. On the 21st (May) we boarded the cars at Chattanooga and came on towards Nashville. There were but few of us and we got off the cars at Deckard and came out a short distance and camped until next morning, the 22nd. We then came by Viola and crossed Collins River at Shell's ford (I believe). Rams (?) Martin, Andy Jones, John Patton, I. T. Hillis, and I now forget who else were with me. Late in the evening I crossed Rocky River at Goodbar (then Millers) into old Van Buren and remained overnight with Uncle John C. Clark. Next day, the 23rd I landed home. I want no more war in mine. Now my friends, I hope you have enjoyed reading my articles. I have only given you a short sketch of war, skipping from place to place, and the boys who were with me from start to finish are scarce now. I may go back and recapitulate and add my experience in the days of reconstruction.

C. H. C.

Article 29

     On my arrival back home, I found some of the boys who had tired of war, good while before the close, and were at home, while others had been captured, put in Northern prisons and were not back home, but got home a few days after I did. A few of the boys from this country had been in the Yankee army, and back at home after the close of the war. They and I worked roads, rolled logs together and got along pleasantly. I cared little for politics in those days. My desire and ambition was to go to work and make a living. Col. Bill Stokes of Dekalb Co. went out in the Southern army, but left it, made up and commanded a Regiment in the Yankee army, and was a candidate for United States Congress soon after the war, on the Republican ticket. He had an appointment to speak here, and many of us gathered to hear him speak. He came at the appointed time, and brought a guard of blue coats with guns with him. I guess he was afraid some ex-Confederate might kill him. Election day came on, and I was not allowed to vote, notwithstanding and had to work roads and pay taxes, and had taken an oath to honor the "stars and stripes". Republicans and Negroes were allowed to vote. Later on, C. C. Senter (?) was elected Gov. and commissioned a man in each county to give certificates to such ex-rebs as he thought were loyal. I remember that U. Y. Drake (?) was the commissioner in this county and gave me a certificate entitling me to vote, and I began with the Democrats, have followed them through evil as well as good report, and will never forsake the party unless I find a better one, which is not in sight yet. The public roads had not been worked in 4 years and were in bad fix. I was appointed overseer of the road from McElroys to Spencer (9miles) and very few hands. Under the road law in those days the overseer smelt the patchen if his road was in bad fix. I thought of going west and get rich, but finally decided to remain in Van Buren among my kindred and friends. I began to use the ax, the hoe and plow, and worked many days away from home at 50 cents per day. I used the old scythe cradle all over Laurel Cove, cutting wheat at $1.00 per day. I have worked all day for 3 # of bacon, and never grunted. I suffered for stomach timber and clothes and shoes while in the war, but have lived on the fat of the land since the war. I have had plenty to eat and wear and all the money I needed. My Cr (?) was not sufficient to purchase a little coffee at one time, and I told my dear wife that I parched meal and made coffee of it, the last year of the war, and suggested that she try it, which she did, and it was as good as Arbuckle is now. I have never complained of hard times since the war, and no one ever heard me say that we didn't have much to eat at my house. I was elected sheriff 37 years ago, re-elected 2 years later, and at the end of my second term was elected Cir. Clk. and in 4 years was elected again. I kept going higher and higher in office until I reached the position of J. P. I have a right to love Van Buren County and her people, giving me all things I asked for. By being a Democrat I was Postmaster for 4 years, during Cleveland's second term. I have experienced "dark, dismal clouds", have seen the time when the end of the world would have been welcomed by me, but the Lord has brought me through them all, furnishing sunshine and happiness, sufficient to overbalance the sorrow and sadness. I may from "time to time" try to furnish something of interest to "The Times" readers. Wishing you all prosperity and happiness, I remain your old Rebel Democratic friend.

C. H. Clark

Biography of Carroll Henderson Clark
Published in 1898 by George A Ogle & Company

     In the respect that is accorded to men who have fought their way to success through unfavorable environments we find an unconscious recognition of the intrinsic worth of a character which cannot only endure so rough a test, but gain new strength through the discipline. The following history sets forth briefly the steps by which our subject, now one of the leading general merchants of Spencer, Van Buren County, overcame the disadvantages of his early life. Mr. Clark was born February 26, 1842, at Carthage, Smith County, Tennessee, but was brought to Van Buren County in 1846 by his parents, James and Rebecca (Sanders) Clark who located on the mountain side near Laurel Cove, where they developed and improved a farm. The Father was also a native of Smith County, born in 1817 and was a Son of Benjamin Clark, who was born in Virginia and died in Van Buren County, Tennessee. James Clark was a farmer and stock raiser by occupation and was a democrat in politics. He died on Caney Fork, Van Buren County in 1866, and his wife, who was born in Dekalb County, Tennessee in 1816, passed away at the home of her Son, A. M. Clark in Spencer in 1886. Eight children were born to them of whom three are still living: Carroll H. of this review; Martha, now the wife of C. W. Mooneyham of Dekalb County; and A. M., a merchant of Doyle, White County, Tennessee. Those deceased are Manson, who died in 1861; Samantha, who married Mark Mitchell and died in Laurel Cove, Van Buren County; Samuel K. who died before the war; James Nelson, who died in Van Buren County and Bethena, who died in the same County when a young woman.
     Carroll H. Clark obtained his primary education in an old school house which was minus floor and chimney and for a time pursued his studies under the direction of Rev Patrick Moore, who is still an honored resident of Van Buren County. Later he attended the York Academy in Spencer, walking four miles to school, but while a student in that institution the Civil War broke out and he laid aside his text books to join the Confederate army. As a private he enlisted in Company #1, Sixteenth Tennessee Infantry under Colonel John Savage and came out of the service bareheaded and barefooted, but entitled to a Lieutenant's commission. At the battle of Perryville, he was wounded by a gunshot which came near ending his life, and on account of his wound was unable to take part in the battle of Murfreesboro. Later he participated in the battle of Chickamauga, both days; was with Johnston on the retreat through Georgia, taking part in all the battles, and on the 22nd of July 1864, was again wounded in front of Atlanta, a musket ball passing through his left arm. On leaving the hospital he joined his command in North Carolina after a long tramp and was at Jonesboro, that state, when they surrendered April 26, 1865. Mr. Clark's capital at the close of the war consisted of a world of energy which has been the means of bringing to him success as he had no money to aid him. Returning to his old home he bought a small piece of land and in connection with its cultivation, he taught some small schools. In 1874 he was the people's choice for Sheriff of the county and so acceptably did he fill the office that he was re-elected in 1876. Two years later he was elected Circuit Clerk and in 1882 was re-elected to that position the duties of which he discharged with promptness and fidelity. On the expiration of his second term he was appointed deputy and served in that capacity for a few years, after which he was deputy Clerk and Master for ten years. For four years he has also been a member of the County Court and during President Cleveland's second administration was Postmaster of Spencer for four years and one month. His official career was ever above reproach, always leaving office as he had entered it, with the confidence and good will of the entire community. In his political views Mr. Clark is a Democrat. In 1894 he embarked in merchandising in Spencer and is now sucessfully engaged in that business.
     On the 17th of October 1867, Mr. Clark married Miss Keziah Mooneyham who was born in Van Buren County April 10, 1850 and died September 9, 1897, leaving three children, namely: Charles M., a farmer of Van Buren County, and Frank S. and Robert Y, both at home. A son and a daughter are deceased: Clenney, who died in childhood and Daisy at the age of six years. Mr. Clark is an active worker in and prominent member of the Christian Church at Spencer in which he is now serving as Secretary and Treasurer.

     My grandfather continued to operate a "country store" at Spencer until he retired about 1920. He moved to Dickson, Tennessee and lived there until his third wife passed away in the mid-twenties. (His third wife, Mrs. Jo Wilson, was a native of Dickson).
     The latter part of his life was spent in Knoxville where he lived with a grandson, William H. Clark.
     He enjoyed dressing in his "regimentals" and entertaining the kids in the parks, or the adults----or even the boys who used to wear the BLUE. The following is a copy of an article published in a Knoxville paper about 1930.


     Seven G.A. R. members were given one of the biggest surprises of their long lives when they assembled yesterday for their fortieth annual reunion at Fountain City Park.
     The aged Civil War veterans were all set to hear a speech by Attorney Oscar Rogers, of Knoxville, when a visitor, decked out in regimentals, brass buttons, medals, gold braid, sword and all, invaded their midst. The former Union soldiers straightened up their bent bodies and started at the newcomer. They could hardly believe their dimming eyes, but there was no mistaking that uniform, even if they had not seen one like it for years and years. It was the uniform of a Confederate colonel, and the wearer was Colonel C. H. Clark, of Knoxville.
     Colonel Clark, walking straight and steady for a man eighty-nine years old, took a seat near the seven Union veterans. Nobody spoke and Attorney Rogers relieved the odd situation by launching into an address, telling of the disappearance of ill feelings between the south and the north.
     Attorney Rogers' address concluded, it was the Civil War vets' time to speak. Underwood, president of the East Tennessee Veterans' association called upon one of his comrades for a talk.
     "Let's hear from the Johnny Rebel, only survivor of the Sultana, sunk during the Civil War."
     And Johnny Rebel accepted the invitation. Slowly, he arose and began:
     "Gentlemen, when I enlisted for the cause of the South, I did so because it was the right one. Four years I fought as hard as you did and have the marks of wounds to prove it. (He exhibited several bullet scars.) But since the Civil War, I have joined the Union ranks. My sons fought in the Spanish-American War and my grandsons fought for Uncle Sam in the World War. I feel that I have a good right to attend your reunion today, because no one could be more loyal to the Union than I am."
     The Confederate colonel sat down and listened to the Union soldiers tell of battles and other war experiences. He cheered with his former enemies. A resolution was introduced to meet again next year at the Fountain City Park for another reunion, and the Confederate colonel voted in favor of it.
     Then the group voted to adjourn, with each man pinning a small American flag on his coat. But here, Colonel Clark dissented.
     "No, I can't pin that on the uniform of Lee and Jackson, but I'll wear it later."
     G. A. R. members who attended were: B. F. Bashor, eighty-three, the youngest member present; H. Kreis, W. F. Prichett, P. M. Keeble, T. M. Underwood, B. J. Meadows, and J. M. Childress, all of Knoxville.


Grandfather sustained a fractured hip in a street-car accident in April 1931 and passed away April 26, 1931.


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