CHAPTER XIX
Georgia Service—A Negro’s Preference—A Hazardous Undertaking.
At this time General Wheeler would detail a fresh brigade every morning to take the advance and move on the enemy.
When a few miles from Buck Head Creek, Harrison’s Brigade was placed in advance. Striking the first line of works, we formed a line and prepared to charge, when General Felix Robertson was seen immediately to the right of our line on a magnificent horse. At the time, he was acting as chief of staff to General Wheeler, and he gave the order to forward, waving his hat and led the charge. We drove them out of their works and it became a running fight down the road with General Robertson leading, having a better horse than the balance of us. We soon struck a branch where the enemy had lined up on the other side, and they poured a galling fire into our advance. General Robertson had his arm badly shattered by a bullet and being alone drew his horse to one side at the ford of this branch. When I saw him he appeared deathly pale, reeling in his saddle, and a couple of the men behind me started over to assist him, but he called to them, “Never mind me, boys; crowd ’em, crowd ’em,” which we did, and again started them on the run. They made another stand across Buck Head Creek near the church and set fire to the bridge, covering the fire with a piece of artillery. Wheeler then sent down a few men with long-range guns, dismounted, who soon drove the artillery away. We then repaired the bridge floor with benches out of the church and were soon across the creek, after them, with the Third Arkansas in advance.
As we were riding rapidly in pursuit, General Wheeler passing our column to reach the advance called to us, saying, “We’ve got them this time; Dibrell is in the rear.” General Dibrell commanded Tennessee cavalry. We soon got into an old sedge field, an open country for several miles, where Kilpatrick had established a fortified camp, built a line of breastworks perhaps two miles wide, his left flank touching the road.
The Third Arkansas had formed a line of battle and was charging the breastworks perhaps two hundred yards ahead of our regiment, which emerged from the woods in columns of fours, moving rapidly to the support of the Third Arkansas. The enemy had planted four pieces of artillery in the road on our right, which poured a galling fire into the Third Arkansas, as well as our flank. The Third Arkansas finally reached the breastworks under a galling fire of four thousand Spencer rifles and drove the gunners away from their artillery, thereby silencing the same, but they were unable to cross the works and not being supported promptly, had to withdraw. The reason of our failure to support promptly was that when we reached about half way across the open, an order came to us through Adjutant Billy Sayers for the Rangers to file to the right into the road. This divided our regiment, a part continuing ahead, the other part moving into the road and, as soon as we struck the road, a hail of grape and cannister swept it and drove us into the thick woods across the road and finally forced us to give up the attack, which was most unfortunate, as the Third Arkansas lost a good many men. Our regiment lost a few, too, and nothing was accomplished. General Dibrell was seen in our left front in the woods, unable to strike Kilpatrick in the rear on account of not being able to cross the creek. General Wheeler now brought up his entire force, making disposition of them for a final charge on Kilpatrick’s flank and rear, as well as in front, and when we moved forward we found the bird had flown; Kilpatrick had abandoned his works and fled.
We next had quite a severe engagement with the enemy’s cavalry near Griswoldville, said to have been one of the most beautiful towns in Georgia, which the enemy had burned. As soon as we caught up with them we charged and drove them into their infantry, which proved in heavy force and forced us to retire.
At Waynesboro, Georgia, we had considerable fighting in order to save Augusta, Georgia, which had one of the largest arsenals in the Confederacy and no doubt was a tempting prize for General Sherman’s torch.
General Braxton Bragg happened to be in Augusta, when he conceived the idea of resorting to a ruse, which proved quite successful. He called up General Wheeler by telegraph at Waynesboro and instructed him when he was forced to give up the town, to leave the telegraph office intact, but give it the appearance of having been abandoned precipitately, then advise him promptly when the enemy entered town. Waiting a reasonable time for the enemy to take charge of the telegraph office, General Bragg called General Wheeler, when a Federal officer answered. General Bragg said, “General Wheeler, hold Waynesboro at all hazards. Longstreet’s corps is arriving. I will take the field in person tomorrow. Signed, Braxton Bragg.” This had the desired effect. General Sherman, satisfied he would have to give battle before Augusta was surrendered, decided he had better pass by and move on to Savannah as fast as possible. There is no question but this ruse saved Augusta, Georgia, though General Wheeler with his corps put up a strong defense, never permitting the enemy to cross Brier Creek, which was between them and Augusta.
About ten or twelve years after the war, when General Sherman was a resident of St. Louis, he gave an interview on the reason he spared Augusta, Georgia. This had been a subject of discussion by historians and especially friends of the North and was frequently attributed to General Sherman having relatives living in Augusta, Georgia. Another story was that Mrs. Lincoln, through a relative or friend, had stored in Augusta a large amount of cotton. There were various other stories, which General Sherman finally set at rest, giving his reasons for sparing the city. He claimed that one of his officers intercepted a telegram from General Bragg to General Wheeler at Waynesboro, instructing him to hold Waynesboro at all hazards, that Longstreet’s corps was arriving and he would take personal command the next day. He further stated that on account of his depleted commissary, having to depend on the country for the rations of his army, he was in no condition to give battle, satisfied that Bragg would defend Augusta to the last, therefore passed it by and hastened to the coast. “But if the people of Augusta think that I spared their city through any love or affection for them, if the President will give me permission, I will take a hundred thousand of my bummers and go down and burn it now.” I read this interview in a St. Louis paper.
When near Savannah, Georgia, the place having been evacuated by our forces, who crossed the river at Pocatalego, Wheeler’s cavalry was ordered to cross the Savannah River at a point about fifteen miles above Savannah. For this purpose we had only one steamboat, and Harrison’s Brigade was ordered to cross last, necessitating our camping in the river bottom for several days, during which time details were sent out of our brigade to collect provisions, as we were without commissary. I had charge the second day of a small detail, and after riding about twenty miles, we scattered out, each man to bring in as much as possible. On my return to camp that evening late, without having succeeded in securing anything, only a piece of cornbread and a slice of bacon for myself, I was feeling disgusted. When about a mile from our camp, following a well-beaten path, I spied a negro man on another path crossing the one I was on and when within a few yards of me, I stopped him and asked if he couldn’t tell me where there was something to eat, telling him that I had ridden all day long, trying to get something for our command and had signally failed.
The country through which we had passed for several days is the greatest sweet potato country perhaps in the South; large fields all over the country had been devoted to sweet potatoes, which had fallen a ready prey to Sherman’s army and the whole country seemed to be eaten out. I told this negro, after he told me where he lived, about a half mile from there, that I was satisfied he knew where there were sweet potatoes and where there was corn for our horses. He assured me he did not and said that the Federals had taken everything that his old master had and didn’t leave him a thing. I continued to talk with him, trying to arouse his sympathy, told him of our poor fellows not having had anything to eat for several days and I had been riding all day long without securing anything, thereby working on his sympathy. Finally he broke down and said, “Young Marster, if I were to tell you where there are sweet potatoes, old marster would kill me.” I told him that his old master never would know anything about it, and he finally said he didn’t think it was right, that his old master had given these Yankees everything they wanted, had plenty of potatoes left and refused to give our own folks anything at all. “Now,” he said, “if you will strike across this way,” pointing in the direction of his house, entering a lane leading to the house, “about a hundred and fifty yards this side of the house, on the left across the fence, you will find some haystack poles standing, with a lot of shattered hay in the lot and if you will dig down about two feet you will strike more potatoes than you will need for several days. Up the river, in the bottom, about two miles, you will find a couple of pens of corn, enough to feed your horses for several days.” He had just finished telling me, when I noticed an old man, who proved to be his master, coming our way, and as soon as the negro saw him he said, “Fo’ Gawd, marster; there he is now; he’ll kill me; he’ll kill me.” “No,” I said “he will not; he never will know that you told me; you stand perfectly still and don’t get scared.” I jerked out my pistol and threw it down on him, telling him within hearing of his old master, that if he didn’t tell me where there was something to eat, I would kill him, and the old man called, “Let that man alone; he don’t know where there is anything to eat; there is nothing on the place, the Federals just took everything I had.” I still insisted on killing the negro if he didn’t tell me where there was something to eat, and finally let him off, satisfying the old man that he hadn’t told me anything.
As soon as I reached camp I told Colonel Harrison to get out a detail of fifty men, with sacks to carry potatoes in, when he ordered Major Pearrie, our commissary, to get out the detail and follow my instructions. I told Pearrie that I was satisfied the people at the house about a half mile from there had plenty of potatoes, but did not tell him the source of my information, determined not to tell anybody. When we moved up the lane near the house. Major Pearrie halted us, went to the house to talk to the old man and negotiate for the potatoes, when the old man satisfied him there were no potatoes on the place. In the meantime I had no trouble in finding the lot just as the negro had described to me and when the major returned and ordered us, “About face; move back to camp; there is nothing to be had,” I dismounted, crossed the fence into the lot and commenced digging with my hands and in about two feet, struck potatoes, then called to the men to come over with their sacks, which, it is hardly necessary to say, we filled up to the top. We thought we left potatoes enough to last the old man and his family for another year, and perhaps more. We then sent up the river bottom and found the corn, on which we fed our horses. Here is another instance of the attachment of the negro to our own people, his sympathy for us controlling his actions, and I always regretted not taking this negro along with us, fearing perhaps that his old master might have suspected him of giving us information about these potatoes and corn.
After crossing the river and reaching Pocatalego, we found General Hardee and General McLaws, with the infantry out of Savannah and also artillery organizations, which were turned into infantry. General McLaws made a request on General Wheeler for a company of cavalry, preferring a company of Texas Rangers, to scout and act as escort for him, when Company B, to which I belonged, was detailed for this purpose.
One night, Captain King, inspector general on McLaws’ staff, came down to our campfire and requested me to accompany him on a ride across the swamp, to find Wheeler’s cavalry, which I consented to do. We proceeded into the swamp on a corduroy road, the night being one of the darkest we had ever been out in, the only light onto the road was the sky appearing between the tall trees on both sides, which governed us in keeping about the middle of the road and kept us from riding off the logs into the deep mud and water. After riding perhaps a half mile, expecting every minute to be fired on by Sherman’s advance pickets, our horses necessarily making a great deal of noise by stumbling over the logs, Captain King stopped and asked did I not think one of us could get through easier than both, as it would reduce the noise considerably. I told him that it certainly would. He then asked me if I would carry a written order to General Wheeler, which was for Wheeler’s cavalry not to fail to cross the swamp that night in order to be on hand by daylight in the morning, when General Hardee expected an attack by the enemy’s infantry. I told Captain King that I would carry the order, which he asked me to show every brigade commander that I might find, until I reached General Wheeler. Captain King then returned to General McLaws’ camp, as he would be needed the next morning.
I rode through the swamp, crossed the bridge and after about a twenty-mile ride, found Wheeler’s cavalry, first striking a Georgia brigade, to a colonel of which I read the order, when he immediately ordered his brigade to saddle up; the next I struck Harrison’s brigade, who also followed suit; the next I struck Colonel Ashby’s headquarters, commanding Tennesseans. I found him lying on a pallet in front of a fireplace, surrounded by his staff, all asleep. I showed him the order; after reading it and noticing that I was wet, having ridden in the rain part of the time, he made me step up to the fire, then after drying my clothes, take his pallet and sleep until it was time to cross the swamp, his command being very near the swamp. He promised me that he would send the dispatch direct to General Wheeler, who was not far off and would have me awakened when the last were about to cross, thereby giving me as much sleep as possible. This kind treatment of Colonel Ashby’s was much appreciated, but was not a surprise to me, having known him as one of the most gallant officers and gentlemen I ever got acquainted with.
Some time after the war, meeting Lieutenant Fulkerson, the commander of our company, at Bryan, Texas, he told me that General McLaws told him a few days after this engagement that Graber’s ride that night, finding Wheeler’s cavalry, who crossed the swamp in time to cover the retreat of our infantry, no doubt saved our little army, only about seven or eight thousand strong. This army was composed of the infantry and artillery that were stationed at Savannah and Charleston and at different points along our line of retreat and was joined at Bentonville with the remnant of Hood’s army, out of Tennessee, after the disastrous Hood campaign in that State.
While this humble individual service was nothing extraordinary, nothing more than performed by individual members of our company frequently, yet the result was such that I always had cause to feel proud of it. I forgot to mention that I crossed the swamp without being fired on by the enemy, as they had not reached that part of the crossing when I passed through.
The following letter from General McLaws was received by me more than thirty years after the incident just related, as the date indicates:
Savannah, Ga., April 9th, 1897.
My Dear Graber:
Your letter of the 5th reached me yesterday evening, and it gave me great pleasure to receive it, for I have very often spoken of the Texas company which formed my escort for a great deal of the time during that campaign, and always in praise of its daring spirit and its devotion to our cause. And there is no one in the company whose name I have mentioned more often than yours, for I saw more of you personally than of most of them, as you were sometimes connected with my scouting party.
When the Federal Army, which crossed at Fort Royal ferry, commenced its movement northward to meet the column under General Sherman, which came from Savannah, it was your company scouts which gave me notice of it, and I commenced following their movement along one side, which was the left bank of the Salkatchie. The night I left my headquarters was a very cold one, and the troops suffered considerably. I had an A. D. C., a relative of mine, whom I had found in Colcock’s regiment of cavalry, and, not being accustomed to campaigning, he grumbled some as we rode along and my other A. D. C., Mr. Lamar, hearing him, asked what was the matter. He replied, “Lamar, if this is liberty, I would rather be a slave.” We arrived in time to successfully defeat the crossing at Braxton’s Bridge, and I then rode on that night to Reeves’ Bridge, some eight or ten miles above, and, finding everything in readiness, rode on to the bridge above. When I started from Braxton’s Bridge, I had some seven or eight of Colcock’s cavalry, who professed to know the country, and I had sent several of them to find Wheeler’s cavalry, in order to get a force from him to help defend the crossing at Reeves’ Bridge the next day, but I heard afterwards it was not done and in some unaccountable way my escort from Colcock’s cavalry disappeared, every one of them. Fortunately I came across my inspecting officer, Captain King, a very energetic and fearless soldier, and I directed him to go on and bring over a division of cavalry under Wheeler, have them dismounted and placed in line close to the swamps on the right of the infantry force at Reeves’ Bridge. I went on to the bridge above where General Hardee was in command, and he, seeming confident of holding his position, I started back to Reeves’ Bridge alone, my escort having disappeared, as I have stated. On my way back, I came across a camp of a single teamster with his team and wagon. I dismounted, told him who I was, and asked him to feed my horse and let me lie down by his fire and to wake me before daylight, all of which he consented to. Before daylight the next day, I was on my way and arrived at Reeves’ Bridge very early and found that Wheeler had sent me a division of cavalry which was placed as I had directed. I met Captain King, who told me of the daring ride of you and himself, and of your desperate venture to find the cavalry, and for which I was very grateful, for, had it not been for additional force thus acquired, the enemy would have crossed above me early in the day, for the Salkhatchie had fallen so much that it had become fordable and the enemy were crossing not only above, but parties crossed between Reeves’ and Braxton’s bridges, and after crossing in sufficient numbers to warrant it they would have come down on my flank at Reeves’ bridge, and I would have had to retire. The presence of the cavalry prevented this. The cavalry late in the day, having exhausted its ammunition, I directed that they be formed mounted in the woods in the rear, and to charge any body of the enemy attempting to make a flank attack of the force at the bridge. This condition continued until sundown, when I directed the officer in command at the bridge to increase his force in the fortifications protecting the bridge and then to withdraw his artillery by hand, and as night approached the troops were withdrawn and I directed them to march directly to the rear and bivouac after going four or five miles. I then rode towards Braxton’s bridge alone, my Carolina cavalry escort never returning to me. As I rode along I saw a mounted man sitting on his horse looking intently down the road. As I approached he heard my coming and turning recognized me and spoke quickly, telling me that the enemy had crossed and were between us and Braxton’s bridge. I told him to go ahead and act as scout and keep a good lookout. So on we went until we saw a man on horseback. His horse was half hidden in a blacksmith’s shop. He also was looking down the road intently, and, as I came up, he also said the enemy had crossed, and were occupying the road. I told him to join the other man and go ahead. We had not gone far when I heard the rapid gallop of a number of horses, and I thought to myself if the enemy have crossed cavalry I may be captured, so I withdrew a little off the road, so as to have a chance of running quickly to my infantry in the rear. A considerable body appeared, dashing wildly on, each man having his pistol drawn, and, as they came near, I was saluted with wild hurrahs. It was the lieutenant with his Texas company, who told me that he had heard I had been captured, and he had determined to rescue me at the risk of the lives of all, and the men demanded it. Of course, I was much gratified, and, feeling myself secure, we rode on rapidly to find out what had been done at Braxton’s bridge. As we went, the first of the parties who had crossed the river were visible but a short distance away, three or four hundred yards along the edge of the river swamp to which they had retired. We halted where the Braxton bridge road joined the one I was on, and I sent in my staff officer, Captain King, to tell the officer to march his command in my direction. After waiting a long time, word came that he had started his command on another road. He had become alarmed, because parties of the enemy had been seen by his command to cross the river above him, and he was apprehensive of being intercepted. I let him go, although his scare cost his men a good many more miles of marching. My escort, with myself in charge, rode on towards the Ediste, bringing up the rear. I would very much like to read your account of what took place when you were with Paysinger. He would come in after a scout between twelve and daylight at night, and would report to me at once, and he gave valuable information as to the movements of the enemy.
The morning after the Battle of Bentonville he came to my tent about three o’clock a. m., and told me that the enemy were moving on our left. I so reported to General Hardee, but he had been notified by General Hampton that the enemy were marching on my right, and I was sent with my command on the right. I then told General Hardee that I was apprehensive that there was a mistake, that I was so certain that our left would be attacked and not the right, I would not fortify it, but wait for the order to return to the left. We had not been on the right an hour before General Hardee came himself in great haste, calling for my command to hurry to the left, and we did get back just in time to check the enemy. Of the things done in these days there are many that I would like very much to have related again by those who were participants, but it would hardly do to put them in print. The conduct of the enemy was, however, so exasperating that there was no treatment too harsh as a punishment for their misdeeds, and I have always regretted that there had not been more scouting parties organized to follow in the wake of Sherman’s army and circulate on his flank. Your company acting as scouts, as well as escort, working in small parties, encouraging individual daring and enterprise, was equally as efficient as a much larger body moving in compact mass under one head.
I shall always remember with pleasure the duties you performed while acting as my escort and also the pleasure I had in my personal intercourse with you, as individuals. I always kept in my mind that the individual soldier was entitled to be treated with the respect due to a gentleman, if his behavior warranted it. This in our Southern army. You will oblige me by assuring all of Company B of my high regard and respect for them individually as brave and honorable men, and collectively as an organized company, for I gave them a chance to show their characters in both ways, and was sorry to part with you all.
Very truly your obedient servant,
L. McLAWS.
We served with General McLaws until after the Battle of Bentonville and to the time of surrender of Johnston’s army at Jonesboro, North Carolina, never uniting with the regiment again, though occasionally meeting with them, notably at the Battle of Bentonville, where they distinguished themselves by one of the most brilliant charges ever made by cavalry. This charge was made without our company (as we were with General McLaws and the infantry) and resulted in the safety of the whole army by saving an only bridge across a deep river, the only means of retreat of the army. It seems this bridge was guarded by some of Hampton’s cavalry, when General Sherman ordered Mower’s corps to make a dash around our left flank and capture this bridge and destroy it. While Mower was proceeding to do this by a rapid advance in the rear of our army, he had his pioneer corps with their spades and picks ready to entrench, and when in sight of the bridge, he poured a volley on the South Carolina cavalry, who immediately abandoned it. General Hardee dashed up to where our regiment was formed, at the time perhaps not numbering two hundred men, and asked, “Who commands this regiment?” A Lieutenant Matthews spoke and said he was in command of the regiment this morning. The general asked, “Lieutenant, can you hold those people in check until I can bring up the infantry and artillery?” He answered, “General, we are the boys that can try,” and called to the Rangers to “Come on.”
Right here I would mention a sad incident in connection with this charge. General Hardee had an only son, a boy about eighteen years old, who importuned him for a month or more, to allow him to join the Texas Rangers, and he had only given his consent that morning for the boy to join the regiment and he had fallen into rank with Company D. Another case: Eugene Munger, a cousin of our Dallas Mungers, who had borne a charmed life from the time he joined the Rangers after the Battle of Shiloh, and had never had a scratch, happened to be on a visit to the regiment, talking with some friends, when this charge was ordered. As they went in, passing by General Hardee, his son saluted him. The Rangers went into a thick woods, hardly suited for a cavalry charge, raising their accustomed yell and with their pistols, dashed into the first line of infantry, who on account of the sudden, unexpected onslaught, must have overshot them in their first volley. The Rangers were right among them, drove them into the second line, which became demoralized and fell back in confusion, the Rangers immediately withdrawing with quite a number of prisoners, bringing out their dead and wounded. Among the dead were Hardee’s son and Eugene Munger. But they accomplished what was intended. General Hardee had brought up his infantry and artillery, which held the enemy in check until night, when the army crossed the bridge and was saved.
About an hour before the Rangers’ desperate charge, General McLaws sent for me, when I found him immediately in the rear of his breastworks. He instructed me to take two or three men of the company and move around in the rear of Sherman’s army and ascertain if Schofield’s army, who had headquarters at Goldsboro, was moving to the support of Sherman, telling me that our army would fall back that night on the road to Raleigh and I would find him somewhere on that road. Taking three other members of the company, among whom was Virge Phelps, an old Mexican and Indian fighter, a man of extraordinary nerve, we proceeded across the bridge, then up Mill Creek towards Little River, where we found a division of the enemy camped about fifteen miles towards Goldsboro. We then proceeded on towards Goldsboro and found everything quiet outside of the enemy’s camps. We ran in vidette pickets on several roads leading into Goldsboro, when finally we reached the town of Pikeville, the first station on the Goldsboro and Weldon Railroad. Here we stopped to make some inquiries, wearing our Federal overcoats and drawing up at a house for this purpose we asked for a drink of water. A very good looking, intelligent lady came out with a bucket and dipper and handed us water. On inquiry we found the enemy had never entered the town and none had been seen there. Finally this good lady asked us what command we belonged to. We told her that we belonged to the Fourth New York Cavalry, which claim we had made at several places where we had stopped for information. This woman kept looking at us and finally said, “Young man, you can’t fool me; you are no Yankees, you are some of our own folks.” I asked her why she thought so. “Well,” she said, “I imagine Yankees don’t talk like you do,” which caused us to laugh, and as we then had decided to return and make report to General McLaws, I thought it wouldn’t make any difference to tell her who we were and stated that we belonged to Wheeler’s cavalry. This brought forth a tirade of abuse from this woman. I said Wheeler’s cavalry purposely to ascertain if the terrible name of Wheeler’s cavalry had reached there. Wheeler’s cavalry, through misrepresentations and frequently through the acts of Yankee scouting parties claiming to belong to Wheeler’s cavalry, had gained a very unenviable reputation, so when we claimed to belong to Wheeler’s cavalry, this woman said, “I wish I was a man; I would shoulder a gun and help put you down and only wish the Yankees would come in here right now and kill the last one of you.” I said, “Madam, you needn’t wish for the Yankees, you will have them soon enough and get a taste of some of their deviltry.” We then proceeded back in the direction of the Raleigh road from Bentonville.