# Recollections of a Virginian in the Mexican, Indian, and Civil Wars/13

On leaving Manassas, I went to Richmond and procured an assignment to the army of Fredericksburg, with headquarters at Brooke's Station. General Holmes was its commander. I was much impressed by the excellent drill and discipline of the troops and the ability and high accomplishment of the officers. I had never seen as good drilling in any infantry troop or artillery of the United states army as I found in these volunteers. The officers a few months before had been in their law offices, or in their counting houses, and the rank and file in their various civil vocations, but already they were in excellent condition for active service. They were eager to learn and work. Perhaps the Fortieth Virginia Infantry, Brockenborough's, was in the most complete state of efficiency. The Georgia Regiment of Colonel Simms, the North Carolina Regiment of Colonel Pettigrew, one of the ablest soldiers and most cultivated gentlemen who fell in our war, and the regiments of Colonel Stokes, of Colonel Gaston Mears, of Colonel Tew, were all in fine order. Every one of these able commanders was killed in battle, and had made a command worthy of him. Two fine regiments of Texans came along on the route to Dumfries; the Fourth Texas under Colonel Hood, and the Fifth under Colonel Archer.
The only survivors of that roll of able and brave colonels are Colonel Fagin, then one of the First Arkansas Regiment, since a prominent general; Colonel Bates, since governor, and now senator of Tennessee; and Colonel Ransom, of North Carolina. Another Texas regiment was afterwards added to the Fourth and Fifth to make up the famous Texas Brigade under Hood, which was accounted invincible. The Fourth Texas had over four hundred native born Virginians in it. It was this Texas brigade which caught Lee's bridle when he wished to lead it to their assault at Spottsylvania, and said, "You go to the rear, and we'll drive them to hell "
After the victory of the first Manassas, both armies lay quiescent for many months. Johnston, commanding the Confederate forces, was confronted by McClellan, commanding the great Army of the Potomac. In February, 1862, General Earle Van Dorn was made commander of the Trans-Mississippi Department, and I was ordered to proceed at once and report to him as Chief of Staff of the Department. While a distinguished honor, this was a sore trial to me; for it took me far away from my wife and mother and from my native State, Virginia, when my chief ambition was to fight for her.
I overtook Van Dorn and his staff at Jacksonport, in Arkansas. With him were several officers of the old army, with whom it was my destiny to serve through more than one campaign. The story of the war has been so often told that I shall give only the prominent events in which I bore my part, and of which I have personal knowledge, omitting reportts and battles of campaigns heretofore published.
After our defeat at Elkhorn, we remained several weeks in Van Buren, resting and refitting the army. One night it was reported that forty men had died in the hospitals, poisoned by morphine, given to them through mistake for quinine. A box, marked quinine, had been smuggled in from St. Louis. All of the bottles were labeled quinine. One, as the fatal result proved, was morphine, and was administered in quinine doses. We had no means of ascertaining whether the mistake was the result of accident or a cruel fraud. There was no remedy and no appeal. The government of the United States had declared medicines contraband of war. In all the wars of history, Wellington alone in his Spanish campaigns had proclaimed this inhuman war measure.
Restless at this enforced inaction, Van Dorn told me that he would send a dispatch to General Sidney Johnston that he would join our army of the West to Johnston's forces at Corinth, destroy Grant's army at Shiloh, and clear Kentucky and Tennessee of the enemy. General Johnston desired this to be done, so we put our forces at once upon the march, while we hastened on in advance to consult with General Johnston about our plans.
The battle of Shiloh was fought before we reached there, and Buell rescued Grant before our fresh troops could complete Johnston's success. We brought about 16,000 men to reinforce Beauregard, holding the works about Corinth, against which Halleck was very slowly and timidly advancing with overwhelming forces. Three times we moved out of our works, and invited Halleck to attack, but each time he drew back. Finally, our troops suffered so much from bad water and bad commissariat, that we evacuated the lines on the night of May 30th, and retired by slow marches upon Tupelo, where we had good water, fresh provisions, and plenty of time for drills, reviews, etc.
On the night of our evacuation of Corinth, I commanded the rear guard of the army of the West. The splendid Missouri Brigade, Wade's or Bledsoe's battery, and two fine regiments - one the Third Arkansas, and the other the Sixth Texas - made up my command. We marched at 1 A.M., and by daybreak had taken up a strong position just beyond the Five Mile Creek. We felt that the whole army could not drive us from that position. We waited unmolested until about 10 A.M., when a staff officer came back from Van Dorn with orders for the rear guard to close up with the army, which was halted for the day in battle order about six miles beyond us. We were neither followed nor molested by any one, yet next day General Halleck sent a telegraphic dispatch, announcing to the country that General Pope reports the capture of 10,000 rebels and 20,000 stand of arms. Had he come across that creek, he would have found nearly 3,000 of us, and would have probably thought we were 10,000. At sunrise, I sent two couriers back by road over which we had marched, with instructions to General Beal, commanding the cavalry left in Corinth, to destroy all stores. Those couriers met nobody upon the road. Pope had a very general reputation amongst army people of mistaking his imagination for facts.
Meanwhile, my family had found protection and generous friendship from Mr. Dick Clarke, an old Virginian, who had greatly prospered, and lived at Verona. He had a spacious residence, and for several months they were his guests; for he would never permit me to pay him. Our affectionate relations with him and his household have continued always. When the army moved away towards Iuka, I pressed Mr. Clarke to permit me at least to remunerate him for our mess-bill. He firmly declined, and said: " General Maury, I am a money making man. But I thank God I always can use my means to help deserving people. And now you must leave Mrs. Maury and the children here with me, while you go on into Kentucky, and feel sure she will be in every way well cared for as if she were in her own father's home in Virginia; and in case you are made a prisoner and taken sick, you may need money. Here are letters of credit to my corespondents in Kentucky, which will protect you"
At Iuka, Rosecrans struck us a heavy blow. Grant failed to cooperate, fortunately, and we got back to Tupelo considerably worsted. We had marched northward because we had information that all of Grant's forces had crossed into Tennessee to join Buell. We found they hadn't. Then the terrible Corinth business, which has been fully written up heretofore.
When I was at Brook's Station, a very likely negro boy, named Jem, was employed about the stables. He was a native of Fredericksburg, and was born free, yet he didn't seem to know it, or care about it. His unfailing good humor was equal to any tax upon his exertions or any disregard of his dignity or rights as a free man. He did whatever he was told to do, but did it in his own way.
My own boy was not able to accompany me on so long and arduous a journey as that before me, so Major Seth French called Jem and told him to go with me to Arkansas by next train, and he went as my body servant, and for three years we took care of each other. That is, I took care of Jem, and Jem didn't care of me or my things, that I was ever aware of. At Chattanooga, I left Jem on the platform of the depot in charge of my baggage, etc., while I went to attend to some business matters. When I returned, my fine elk robe, blankets, and camp bedding were all gone, and Jem seemed very much surprised, quite innocent of any responsibility for it, and imperturbably good humored under my remarks about it, which were caustic.
When we reached Memphis, I left Jem in charge of my room and effects while I went off for a short time. On my return, Jem placidly informed me, "Colonel, somebody done took bof dem pistols of yourn when you was gone."
Another time, he left my ambulance and team of lively mules, hitched ready for a trip, while he amused his leisure moments. The team started, the bar over the top of the stable-yard gate was too low for the carriage to pass under it, and the mules went through, taking the body of the ambulance, the top of it remaining under the gateway. Jem's only emotions were of surprise "that them mules is such fools."
He was about six feet two inches in stature, of a most joyous and happy and happy disposition, and a ready wit, which made him a great favorite with all about headquarters, whether black or white. I cannot recall that I ever saw him show any anger or resentment, or wear a jacket. When he was summoned from the stable to go with me to Arkansas, he came right along just as he was. Nor can I ever remember seeing him use water, or take a bath, except when our canoe upset in Black River, Arkansas, when he had to swim for his life.
Dick Holland was my first cousin. When I was made brigadier-general for conduct in the Elkhorn campaign, I found Dick at Corinth, after Shiloh, sergeant major of a Mississippi regiment. On my application, he was appointed captain and aide-de-camp to me; and a more genial, gallant fellow never wore a sword than Dick. He was a model of an aide-de- camp, -- knew everybody worth knowing in the army, and made a friend of every man who ever came to headquarters.
My staff were all bright, harmonious, and active young fellows. We had one large mess, and care was taken to keep up a comfortable table, to which every gentleman, whether a general or a private, was welcome and sure of a good dinner. Dick looked after all this, and had a peculiar aptitude for finding good things to eat and good places to rest for himself. His success in making himself comfortable while he was helping all of us, made him the subject of many a joke amongst us.
I had a very fine horse which I never rode because he was too tall for me. He suited Dick exactly, and he quietly appropriated him, until Jem spoke of him as " Marse Dick's horse. " Once while Dick was off on a furlough, a very gallant and able officer, Major Brown, reported to me on the eve of a little fight. He asked my permission to go into it, which I gave, when he said, " General, my horses are not up yet; can you mount me? " I called to Jem to catch his Marse Dick's horse for Major Brown. The engagement was a skirmish with Sherman's rear guard on his retreat from us at Chickasaw Bluff, and before long I saw Brown coming back, carrying his saddle and bridle, and on foot. I said, " Major, what's the matter? "
"Well, sir, I was down on the levee, when a shell from a gunboat knocked that horse's head off. So I thought the best thing for me to do was to bring the saddle and bridle back. "
Some days after Dick returned from his trip, all the staff gathered about him to hear of his experiences and to tell him of ours. Jem selected his opportunity and made his way to greet him, saying: " Sarvant, Marse Dick. I'se mighty glad to see you safe back. Ah, Marse Dick, if you had been here, dat horse would never have got killid in dis world. " Dick joined in the laugh, and the staff told the story over town; and the papers having announced that Major Brown, of General Maury's staff, had his horse shot under him, the girls called Dick "Major Brown" ever after.
In the winter of 1862-63 we were on the Tallahatchee, holding Grant's army in check, when news came that I had been made major-general. Jem was much elated at this increase of rank, and swaggered over the other headquarters darkies accordingly. The weather was bitter cold, and he was making up my camp bed next morning. I said: " Jem, you must tuck in those blankets better at the foot of the cot. My feet stuck out last night and were almost frozen. " With an indescribable air of humorous impudence, he turned towards me and said, " Why, you ain't no longer 'en what you was, sir, is yer, since yer been promoted ?"
Jem's stature exceeded mine by about one foot. He used to brag over the other negroes because he was a " Virginny nigger, " and had been in the terrible battle of first Bull Run. In his opinion, " Thar is no soldiers like them we all left in Virginny. The privates dar was better dan some of dese yer kurnels, " and there never was no service so dangerous as he had seen in the battle of Manassas.
It was on the evening of the critical fight for the passage of the Hatchie, after our two day's fighting about Corinith, that I sent a courier to the rear to bring up a fresh horse. The bay mare I was riding had been under saddle all of the two previous days of action, and it was time to relieve her. Jem came galloping up to me on my finest horse, Roy. It was against orders for him ever to mount him. He had his "own mar' "; and he informed me that " mor'n one man had dun shuck two hundred dollars at him fur dat mar' " which, considering the easy terms on which he acquired her, would certainly have been a good speculation. She had strayed one morning into the field where my horses were, and Jem took her in there and then.
He was shifting the saddles; Roy was bridled and saddled, and I mounted him and found he had cast a shoe -- was dead lame. Just then a shell burst in the trunk of a tree a few feet above us. I turned to tell Jem to give me back the mare, but he was gone at full speed, lying close down on the mare and urging her on. He was about to throw his saddle on her when that shell burst. He dropped the saddle and away he went.
Two days afterwards Jem made his appearance in the "avalanche," looking as chirpy as if he had won the battle. He gave his experience since his sudden disappearance with his usual fluency.
"Gen'l, when dat shell busted de mar' runned straight away. " I had seen the flight; the rascal didn't stop to put the saddle on, but went off head on her crest, with legs pounding her sides. " Ole Gen'l Price an' 'bout a dozen of dem colonels of hisn, dey was back dar, - 'bout a hundred yards behin' whar we all was, -- and she busted plum thro' 'em. De Gen'l did cuss! 'Stop, you black rascal! Somebody kill dat nigger! He'll stampede dis whole army! ' Now, Gen'l Maury, I always 'lowed Gen'l Price had mo' sense 'en dat. Dat warn't no time to stop, an' Gen'l Price ought to ha' knowed it. De mar', she never stopt nuther -- not till plum at de avalanche -- and I got in de avalanche, and ain't leff it sense, cause I knowed you hilt me 'sponsible for yo' things what was in the avalanche. " Investigation showed the mess chest to be empty, on which Jem evinced much surprise and indignation at the want of integrity "of dese here Southern soldiers. "
After this episode Jem lost credit as fire-eater; but his loyalty to me never faltered, and he stayed with me until the very last moment, when we parted affectionately. He went to Mobile just in the flush of cotton times, and when I last saw him he was the prosperous owner and driver of a cotton flat. I heard that he had become quite a politician in the reconstruction times of Alabama.