LIFE IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY BEING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER IN THE CONFEDERATE ARMY

THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT OF MY experiences as a private soldier in the Confederate Army during the great war of 1861-’65 records only the ordinary career of an ordinary Confederate soldier. It does not treat of campaigns, army maneuvers, or plans of battles, but only of the daily life of a common soldier, and of such things as fell under his limited observation.

Early in April, 1861, immediately after the battle of Fort Sumter, I joined the Palmetto Guards, Capt. George B. Cuthbert, of the Seventeenth Regiment South Carolina Militia. Very soon after, the company divided, and one half under Captain Cuthbert left Charleston, and joined the Second South Carolina Volunteers in Virginia. The other half, to which I belonged, under Capt. George L. Buist, remained in Charleston. Early in the fall Captain Buist’s company was ordered to Coosawhatchie, and given charge of four howitzers; and thenceforth for three years, until December, 1864, it served as field artillery. I did not go with my company, as at that time I was a clerk in the Charleston post-office, and really exempt from all service. On April 2, 1862, however, then being about eighteen years of age, I resigned my clerkship, and joining the company at Coosawhatchie, with the rest of the men enlisted in the Confederate service “for three years or the war.”

About May 1st the company was ordered to Battery Island at the mouth of the Stono River, where with another company, the “Gist Guards,” Capt. Chichester, we were put under the command of Major C. K. Huger, and placed in charge of four 24-pounder smooth-bore guns in the battery commanding the river, our own four howitzers being parked in the rear. Cole’s Island, next below, and at the immediate entrance of the river, was garrisoned by Lucas’ battalion of Regulars, and the Twenty-fourth Regiment South Carolina Volunteers, Col. C. H. Stevens. An examination of a map of this locality will show that Cole’s Island was the key to Charleston; and this question has given rise to considerable acrimonious discussion. But whatever the merits of the case may have been, the facts are, that under the strange fear of the Federal gunboats that obtained on the South Carolina coast at that period, it was believed that our positions on Cole’s and Battery Islands could not be held against an attack from the gunboats, which then were off the mouth of the river; and the islands were evacuated. On the 18th the Federals sent a couple of small boats into the mouth of the river to reconnoiter, but they were soon driven back by our pickets. On the next day, and ay after, all the guns were removed from both islands to Fort Pemberton, higher up the Stono River—a very strong earth fort that had been built in preparation for this move. A day or two after, while our men were still on Battery Island, but Cole’s Island having been deserted, several Federal gunboats entered the river, shelling the woods and empty batteries as they advanced. On their approach we set fire to the barracks and then withdrew across the causeway to James Island. We had to make haste across this causeway, because it was within easy range of the enemy, who soon began to rake it with shells.

This was my first experience with shell fire, and I soon learned that at long range, to men in the field, if the shells did not explode it was more alarming than dangerous. But being quite fresh I thought it unbecoming to appear concerned, and although at first, after crossing the causeway, I had stood wisely behind a friendly oak tree for protection, after the first shell or two I stepped aside and stood in the open, foolishly thinking that this was more soldierly. I had not yet learned that a soldier’s common sense should prompt him to make use of what protection there may be at hand and to avoid exposing himself unnecessarily. But only when duty calls, to throw precaution aside and face whatever there is. While we were standing on the James Island side of the causeway a time-fuse shell fell near us, and one of our men, a new recruit, ran up to it, and stood over it with the exclamation, “How the thing does hiss!” Happily the fuse failed and the shell did not explode. When I saw the fortunate termination of the affair I could not resist calling out, “Surely the Lord protects drunken men and fools.”

Our company fell back from here to a plantation about a mile inland, where we made our camp. I was a very enthusiastic, energetic youngster, and in pitching our large Sibley tent worked with such energy that I attracted the attention of one of our men, Mr. H. Gourdin Young, who jokingly said, “Ford, you are a splendid worker. If you were a negro, I would buy you.” He was very much my senior.

After remaining here for about two months, our men doing some picket duty, we were transferred to Fort Pemberton, a very strong earthwork of 16 guns, on the Stono River, and garrisoned by Lucas’ battalion of Regulars, in which my brother was a lieutenant. Here we remained for about three months.

Frequently the Federal gunboats would ascend the river, and there would be interchanges of shots between them and the fort. On one of these occasions an amusing incident occurred. Lieutenant Webb, of our company, had just got a new negro man servant, who was inexperienced in warfare. One afternoon, as a few shells were being thrown at the fort from the gunboats, he was very much scared, saying, “Dem people trow dem t’ings about yere so careless, dey won’t mind until dey hu’t somebody.” Just then a shell passed over the fort, and exploding in the rear, a piece cut off a leg of Lieutenant Webb’s horse. “Dere now; w’at I tell you!” exclaimed Sam. “Dey done kill Mass Ben’s horse.”

During the early period of the war a great many of the private soldiers in the Confederate Army had their own negro servants in the field with them, who waited on their masters, cleaned their horses, cooked their meals, etc. Attached to our company there were probably twenty-five such servants. This system continued during the first year or two of the war, on the Carolina coast, but later on, as the service got harder and rations became scarcer, these negro servants were gradually sent back home, and the men did their own work, cooking, etc. As a rule, these negroes liked the life exceedingly. The work exacted of them was necessarily very light. They were never under fire, unless they chose to go there of their own accord, which some of them did, keeping close to their masters. And they spent much of their time foraging around the neighboring country. Although often on the picket lines, night as well as day, with their masters, I never heard of an instance where one of these army servants deserted to the enemy.

At this period of the war the Confederate Government allowed each soldier a certain sum yearly for his uniform, and each company decided for itself what its own uniform should be. In consequence, “uniform” was really an inappropriate term to apply to the dress of various organizations. At first our company was uniformed in gray woolen frock coats, and trousers of the same material, with blue caps; next we had gray cotton coats and trousers with gray cloth hats; then very dark brown coats with blue trousers furnished by the government, and gray felt hats; and finally the gray round jacket, also furnished by the government, which assumed to provide also the hats, shoes, and underclothing. The shoes, when we could get them, were heavy English brogans, very hard on our feet, but durable. It was in the summer of 1862 that we received our first allowance for uniforms, and our quartermaster applied to a tailor in Charleston to furnish them, but there was considerable delay in getting them, and the tailor wrote that goods were then scarce on account of the moonlight nights, but that in about a fortnight, when the moon waned, they would be in greater supply, and the uniforms could be furnished at $2 more per man than the government allowed. So in due time we each supplemented the government’s allowance and got new uniforms of very inferior, half cotton gray stuff, which served us for the rest of the year. Afterwards the government tried to furnish the men gratuitously with the best it could, and we did the best we could with what we got.

In July our command was removed to Charleston, under orders to go to Virginia. These orders were countermanded in a few days owing to aggressive movements of the Federals on the South Carolina coast. The remainder of the summer and the fall were spent in Charleston encamped for most of the time at the Washington race course, doing duty on the lines of breastworks thrown up across the neck just above Magnolia Cemetery. These breastworks were built to keep any enemy out of the city, but the nearest enemy on land at that period was on Folley Island; in Tennessee to the west; and Virginia to the North. And when Sherman did come within 50 miles of Charleston nearly three years later our troops were too much occupied in getting away to think of these breastworks. The battalion then consisted of three companies, each armed with four 8-inch howitzers, and all under the command of Maj. Charles Alston, Jr., Capt. Buist having been promoted to major, and assigned to duty near Savannah.

While encamped on the race course I witnessed the...