I took a walk before breakfast with Dr Quintard, a zealous
Episcopal chaplain, who began life as a surgeon, which enables him to attend to
the bodily as well as the spiritual wants of the Tennessean regiment to which
he is chaplain. The enemy is about fifteen miles distant, and all the tops of
the intervening hills are occupied as signal stations, which communicate his
movements by flags in the daytime, and by beacons at night. A signal corps has
been organised for this service. The system is most ingenious, and answers
admirably. We all breakfasted at Mrs –––'s. The ladies were more excited even
than yesterday in their diatribes against the Yankees. They insisted on cutting
the accompanying paragraph out of to-day's newspaper, which they declared was a
very fair exposition of the average treatment they received from the enemy.2
They reproved Mrs ––– for having given assistance to the wounded Yankees at
Wartrace last year; and a sister of Mrs –––'s, who is a very strong-minded
lady, gave me a most amusing description of an interview she had had at
Huntsville with the astronomer Mitchell, in his capacity of a Yankee general.
It has often been remarked to me that, when this war is over, the independence
of the country will be due, in a great measure, to the women; for they declare
that had the women been desponding they could never have gone through with it;
but, on the contrary, the women have invariably set an example to the men of
patience, devotion, and determination. Naturally proud, and with an innate
contempt for the Yankees, the Southern women have been rendered furious and
desperate by the proceedings of Butler, Milroy, Turchin, &c. They are all
prepared to undergo any hardships and misfortunes rather than submit to the
rule of such people; and they use every argument which women can employ to
infuse the same spirit into their male relations.
At noon I took leave for the present of General Hardee, and
drove over in his ambulance to Shelbyville, eight miles, in company with Bishop
Elliott and Dr Quintard. The road was abominable, and it was pouring with rain.
On arriving at General Polk's, he invited me to take up my quarters with him
during my stay with Bragg's army, which offer I accepted with gratitude. After
dinner General Polk told me that he hoped his brethren in England did not very
much condemn his present line of conduct. He explained to me the reasons which
had induced him temporarily to forsake the cassock and return to his old
profession. He stated the extreme reluctance he had felt in taking this step;
and he said that so soon as the war was over, he should return to his episcopal
avocations, in the same way as a man, finding his house on fire, would use
every means in his power to extinguish the flames, and would then resume his
ordinary pursuits. He commanded the Confederate forces at the battle of
Perryville and Belmont, as well as his present corps d'armée at the battles of
Shiloh (Corinth) and Murfreesborough. At 6.30 P.M., I called on General Bragg,
the Commander-in-chief. This officer is in appearance the least prepossessing
of the Confederate generals. He is very thin; he stoops, and has a sickly,
cadaverous, haggard appearance, rather plain features, bushy black eyebrows
which unite in a tuft on the top of his nose, and a stubby iron-grey beard; but
his eyes are bright and piercing. He has the reputation of being a rigid
disciplinarian, and of shooting freely for insubordination. I understand he is
rather unpopular on this account, and also by reason of his occasional acerbity
of manner. He was extremely civil to me, and gave me permission to visit the
outposts, or any part of his army. He also promised to help me towards joining
Morgan in Kentucky, and he expressed his regret that a boil on his hand would
prevent him from accompanying me to the outposts. He told me that Rosecrans's
position extended about forty miles, Murfreesborough (twenty-five miles distant)
being his headquarters. The Confederate cavalry enclosed him in a semicircle
extending over a hundred miles of country. He told me that “West Tennessee,
occupied by the Federals, was devoted to the Confederate cause, whilst East
Tennessee, now in possession of the Confederates, contained numbers of people
of Unionist proclivities. This very place, Shelbyville, had been described to
me by others as a “Union hole.” After my interview with General Bragg, I took a
ride along the Murfreesborough road with Colonel Richmond, A.D.C. to General
Polk. About two miles from Shelbyville, we passed some lines made to defend the
position. The trench itself was a very mild affair, but the higher ground could
be occupied by artillery in such a manner as to make the road impassable. The
thick woods were being cut down in front of the lines for a distance of eight
hundred yards, to give range. During our ride I met Major-General Cheetham, a
stout, rather rough-looking man, but with the reputation of "a great
fighter. It is said that he does all the necessary swearing in the 1st corps
d'armée, which
General Polk's clerical character incapacitates him from performing. Colonel Richmond
gave me the particulars of General Van Dorn's death, which occurred about forty
miles from this. His loss does not seem to be much regretted, as it appears he
was always ready to neglect his military duties for an assignation. In the
South it is not considered necessary to put yourself on an equality with a man
in such a case as Van Dorn's by calling him out. His life belongs to the
aggrieved husband, and “shooting down"”is universally esteemed the correct
thing, even if it takes place after a lapse of time, as in the affair between
General Van Dorn and Dr Peters.
News arrived this evening of the capture of Helena by the
Confederates, and of the hanging of a negro regiment with forty Yankee
officers. Every one expressed sorrow for the blacks, but applauded the
destruction of their officers.2
I slept in General Polk's tent, he occupying a room in the
house adjoining. Before going to bed, General Polk told me an affecting story
of a poor widow in humble circumstances, whose three sons had fallen in battle
one after the other, until she had only one left, a boy of sixteen. So
distressing was her case that General Polk went himself to comfort her. She
looked steadily at him, and replied to his condolences by the sentence, “As
soon as I can get a few things together, General, you shall have Harry too.”
The tears came into General Polk's eyes as he related this episode, which he ended
by saying, “How can you subdue such a nation as this!”
_______________
1 “Losses
Of William F. Ricks. — The Yankees did not treat us very badly as they
returned from pursuing our men beyond Leighton (at least no more than we
expected); they broke down our smokehouse door and took seven hams, went into
the kitchen and helped themselves to cooking utensils, tin ware, &c.;
searched the house, but took nothing. As they passed up the second time we were
very much annoyed by them, but not seriously injured; they took the only two
mules we had, a cart, our milch cows, and more meat. It was on their return
from this trip that our losses were so grievous. They drove their waggons up in
our yard and loaded them with the last of our meat, all of our sugar, coffee,
molasses, flour, meal, and potatoes. I went to a Lieut.-Colonel who seemed very
busy giving orders, and asked him what he expected me to do; they had left me
no provisions at all, and I had a large family, and my husband was away from
home. His reply was short and pointed — ‘Starve, and be d----d, madam.’ They
then proceeded to the carriage-house, took a fine new buggy that we had never
used, the cushions and harness of our carriage, then cut the carriage up and
left it. They then sent about sixty of the slyest, smoothest-fingered rogues I
have ever seen in the Federal army (all the rogues I ever did see were in that
army), into the house to search for whisky and money, while the officers
remained in the back-yard trying to hire the servants to tell them where we had
money hid. Their search proving fruitless, they loaded themselves with our
clothing, bed-clothing, &c.; broke my dishes; stole my knives and forks;
refused the keys and broke open my trunks, closets, and other doors. Then came
the worst of all — the burners, or, as they call themselves, the ‘Destroying
Angels.’ They burned our gin-house and press, with 125 bales of cotton, seven
cribs containing 600 bolls of corn, our logs, stables, and six stacks of
fodder, a waggon, and four negro cabins, our lumberroom, fine spinning-machine
and 500 dollars' worth of thread, axes, hoes, scythe-blades, and all other
plantation implements. Then they came with their torches to burn our house, the
last remaining building they had left besides the negro quarter. That was too
much; all my pride, and the resolutions that I had made (and until now kept up)
to treat them with cool contempt, and never, let the worst come, humble myself
to the thievish cutthroats, forsook me at the awful thought of my home in
ruins; I must do something, and that quickly; — hardened, thieving villains, as
I knew them to be, I would make one effort for the sake of my home. I looked
over the crowd, as they huddled together to give orders about the burning, for
one face that showed a trace of feeling, or an eye that beamed with a spark of
humanity, but, finding none, I approached the nearest group, and pointing to
the children (my sister's), I said, ‘You will not burn the house, will you? you
drove those little ones from one home and took possession of it, and this is
the only sheltering place they have.’ ‘You may thank your God, madam,’ said one
of the ruffians, ‘that we have left you and your d----d brats with heads to be
sheltered.’ Just then an officer galloped up — pretended to be very much
astonished and terribly beset about the conduct of his men — cursed a good
deal, and told a batch of falsehoods about not having given orders to burn
anything but corn — made divers threats that were forgotten in utterance, and
ordered his ‘Angels’ to fall into line, — thereby winding up the troubles of
the darkest day I have ever seen. Mrs.
Ricks.
“Losses before this last raid: six mules, five horses, one
waggon (four-horse), fifty-two negroes.”
2 This afterwards turned out to be untrue.
SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three
Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 141-8
