A SKETCH
OF THE
BATTLE OF FRANKLIN, TENN.;
WITH
REMINISCENCES OF CAMP DOUGLAS.

BY JOHN M. COPLEY.

ILLUSTRATED.

AUSTIN, TEXAS:
EUGENE VON BOECKMANN, PRINTER.
1893.

COPYRIGHTED, 1893.

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO
MRS. CORRIE M. COPLEY,
(NEE BILLINGSLEA), MY WIFE.

                        "Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife.
                        Whate'er she does, where'er her steps she bends,
                        Grace on each action silently attends."

PREFACE

                        "So far as what we see with our minds,
                        "Bears similitude to what we see with our eyes."

        It is my opinion that few persons who possess a liberal education, but what, if they make the effort, could write some sort of a book; but to write a book and make it interesting, at the same time have it contain truth and common sense, is no easy task; but to write one and let it contain nothing except plain facts, without any of the coloring which we would give to fiction, and which adds so much charm to the book and interest for the reader, is a greater and much more laborious task.

        In writing this little book, I have endeavored to keep it clear of all fiction and romance, and to place only facts before the reader. I have not drawn upon my imagination for any incident contained

in the following pages. Perhaps some of the incidents may appear unreasonable to those who have grown up within the last decade, and know but little, practically, of the war between the States, and nothing whatever of the life of a prisoner of war; nevertheless, they are all stubborn facts.

        I have not been solicited by any one to write these reminiscences, but do so through a desire to give my boys, some idea of a few of the painful scenes and terrible consequences of that fearful war of 1861-1865.

        I shall in this brief little history of prison-life passed in the military prison at Camp Douglas, Illinois, give the unwritten incidents which occurred within the inclosure of the prison walls, at least, the part in which myself, with a few others participated, and to describe minutely, as near as possible, all the inanimate objects and some of the animate, together with full particulars of all the occurrences which happened within my observation. I desire, as it were, to have the reader accompany me within the inclosure of the prison walls and paint the whole as

nearly as possible as it transpired - let him view it with the mind's eye in its reality, without exaggeration or coloring.

        It is my intention to give the reader a faithful and true account of all that passed before me while I was a prisoner of war, with which I was personally connected; also those of which I was an eye-witness, at the time and place of which I am writing. Not our meals only shall be fully and particularly described, but our table-ware, from the oyster-can to the tin plate.

        I am not a gentleman of wealth or leisure; hence, I have been unable to devote a year or two in preparing the manuscript for the publisher, but have been compelled to scratch it off at odd times when I could do so, without encroaching upon my business.

        My attempt has been to use the simplest language, to make my meaning clear, and the construction accurate. Whenever I have seen proper to quote anything from others, I have indicated the same by quotation points.

JOHN M. COPLEY.

INDEX.

• CHAPTER I. Mustered into Service - Hospital Experience - The Federals Capture Nashville - Escape from the Federal Lines - Again Join the Army . . . . .
• CHAPTER II. Hood's Advance on Nashville - Chasing Schofield's Corps, which is Allowed to Escape - In Hot Pursuit of the Enemy - Description of the Federal Position - The Battle of Franklin - Captured by the Enemy . . . . . 
• CHAPTER III. Prisoners of War - Marched to Nashville to the Accompaniment of Hood's Cannon - On Exhibition - Placed on Board the Cars for Louisville . . . . .
• CHAPTER IV. Our Jocular Guards - Leave Louisville Packed in Box Cars, and Arrive at Camp Douglas - Stripped and Searched - Within Prison Walls . . . . .

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• CHAPTER V. A Description of the Prison Grounds - The Barracks and their Arrangement - The Bulletin Board, the Dungeon, and "Morgan's Mule." . . . . .
• CHAPTER VI. The Prison Officials - Capt. Webb Sponable, "Inspector of Rations" - The Guards and their Duties - The Bugler - The "Big Four" . . . . .
• CHAPTER VII. Prison Life - Companions in Misery - Visitors to the Prison Camp - Called out of Barracks by a Ruse - Again Searched - An Angry Guard . . . . . 
• CHAPTER VIII. The Bill of Fare - Cooks and Cookery - Table-ware - Method of Serving Meals - Only Two Meals per Day - Rations in Kind Issued to Prisoners of War . . . . . 
• CHAPTER IX. Prison Rules and Regulations - Ingenious methods of Punishment - The most Trivial Offenses severely Punished - The Cruelty of the "Big Four" - Human Ghouls - The Dead Line - The Penalty for Cooking on the Stoves . . . . .

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• CHAPTER X. Favored Classes - Free Masons and "Loyal Men" - Applications to take the Oath of Allegiance - Probationary Period - "Loyal Row" - Feeling Against the "Loyal Men" . . . . . 
• CHAPTER XI. Strict Sanitary Regulations - Cleanliness of the Barracks Required - Wash Day - Penalties Imposed by the Prisoners for a Failure to Keep Person and Clothing Clean . . . . . 
• CHAPTIR XII. Improving the Time - Gambling Among the Prisoners - The Peculiar Currency used as Stakes - Hungry unfortunates - Letters from Home - Difficulty of Mailing Letters . . . . . 
• CHAPTER XIII. "Necessity the Mother of Invention" - The Trades and Professions - Musical Instrument Manufacturers and Music - Playing Ball - Standard Currency of the Camp - Fate of Lieut. Fife's Dog - Prison Cakes and Pies - The Magician of the Camp . . . . . 

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• CHAPTER XIV. "Fighting Joe" Hooker Reviews the Prisoners - Governors Morton and Oglesby visit the Camp - Reckless Cruelty of the Guards - A Fatal Accident . . . . . 
• CHAPTER XV. "Way Down in Dixie" - The Origin of the Song - Sickness in Camp - The Prison Hospital - A Change of Quarters . . . . . 
• CHAPTER XVI. Gloomy News - The Triumph of the Federal Arms - Great rejoicing Among the Federal Troops - The Prisoners take the Oath of Allegiance, are Released, and Sent to their Homes . . . . . 

THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN;
WITH
REMINISCENCES OF CAMP DOUGLAS.

CHAPTER I.

                        "Sometimes fair truth in fiction we disguise;
                        Sometimes present her naked to men's eyes."
                        "But he who blends instruction with delight,
                        Wins every reader, nor in vain shall write."

        "But what is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past. History is night. In history there is no second tier. That which is no longer on the stage immediately fades into obscurity. The scene is shifted, and all is at once forgotten. The past has a synonym, the unknown."

        In 1861, when the war broke out between the

Northern and Southern States, I was then a boy and had just entered my fifteenth year; and being caught in the wave of enthusiasm which swept over the land joined a company of Volunteers, was mustered into the service of what was then called the Confederate States Government, in Company B, Forty-ninth Regiment of Tennessee Infantry. This regiment when first organized was commanded by Colonel James E. Bailey and Lieutenant Colonel Alford Robb, both of Clarksville, Tennessee, and numbered near one thousand strong. There were but few men in this regiment over thirty years of age. Company B was organized at Charlotte, Dickson county, Tennessee, and numbered near one hundred men, rank and file, and was commanded by Captain Thomas K. Grigsby. This company had more boys, whose ages ranged from fourteen to twenty years old, than any other in the regiment when first mustered into service.

        My first service as a soldier was rendered at Fort Donelson, on Cumberland river, eighty miles below the city of Nashville, Tennessee. When Fort Donelson fell into the hands of the

Federal troops, I was lying in the hospital at Nashville, sick from a severe attack of pneumonia. It was a large and commodious brick building, two stories high, situate near and fronting Cumberland river, and had but recently been converted into what was known as the Ensly Hospital.

        My cot on which I was lying was near a window, which commanded a fine view of the river, as the transports crowded with troops came up the river, within sight of the city. As the transports approached the city, the troops wearing the blue uniform, with their banners flying, the Stars and Stripes proudly floating in the breeze from the mast-heads of all the vessels, the bands playing Yankee Doodle, and various national airs, presented quite an imposing appearance. As the steamers rounded in for the landing, all the bands on board struck up Dixie, and filled the air with music for several minutes.

        As soon as the troops disembarked they took immediate possession of the city, with, of course, the hospitals and sick included. Everybody fled from the hospitals who were able to do so,

before the Federal troops entered the city. Our army surgeons, prescriptionists, hospital stewards, nurses, and the attendants of all classes, fled at the approach of the Federal transports, and left us entirely alone to whatever fate might befall us. We were all too sick to make even an effort to escape, but contented ourselves the best we could under the circumstances, and remained.

        Sentinels were immediately placed inside and around the hospital, one at the entrance of the stairway, at the foot of the stairs on the ground, another at the top of the stairway on the inside, near the entrance to my ward. These sentinels were relieved from guard duty every two hours. We were not left long without attention, for the ladies of Nashville came into the hospital at once, took full charge of the sick, and soon made us feel very comfortable and as though our own mothers had suddenly appeared in our midst; they soon materially improved our condition in many respects, and made strenuous efforts to have us removed to their private residences, but the Federal authorities would not allow it, and we had to remain in the hospital. That grand

old city of Nashville could always boast of its noble southern women. The ladies of that city have always been particularly noted for their generosity, Christianity, culture and refinement; on no occasion, before the war or since, has this reputation been found to be only a noiseless fame. The author of the following lines must have been indebted to women of this character, when he expressed the beautiful sentiment that, "Woman is the sweetest present that God has given to man. Woman has a smile for every joy, a tear for every sorrow, a consolation for every grief, an excuse for every fault, a prayer for every misfortune, and an encouragement for every hope."

        I remained in the hospital at Nashville for several days after its capture, more dead than alive, and during all this time these noble women remained near us, doing everything in their power to alleviate our suffering. A Mrs. Cartwright and a young lady whom I understood to be a relative of hers, waited upon me continually, one or the other of them was in my ward day and night, and attended to all of my little

peevish whims and wants; they bestowed upon me that motherly kindness which only a woman knows how to do.

        The Federal army surgeons, after taking charge of the hospital, were very kind to the sick in the ward which I occupied. I never met with better treatment, or had more kindness shown me by our own army surgeons, than these disciples of Esculapius did during my stay there under their charge and care. One very nice little fellow closely attended upon me, and manifested considerable interest in my recovery. He was a gentleman, and I am sorry that I never learned his name. I admired him for his kindness and gentlemanly conduct.

        One morning, as I lay on my cot unable to sit up, busy with all manner of sad and gloomy reflections concerning my present, as well as future condition, I was surprised by the appearance in my ward of a young man, tall, slender, and rather good looking, who looked to be about twenty-five years of age, dressed in a blue uniform, and inquired of the two ladies in attendance "If there was any one in that ward who belonged to the

Forty-ninth Regiment of Tennessee Infantry?" Mrs. Cartwright, one of the ladies present, conducted him to the cot I occupied, and with the first flash of his eyes he recognized me, and exclaimed at once, "Is that you, John?" I answered, "yes," as that was my name, but failed to recognize him, due, perhaps, to the fact that I was very sick at the time and able to pay but little attention to anything. After a brief conversation which soon refreshed my memory, I remembered him as having been an old acquaintance and friend of my earliest boyhood days, although he was several years my senior. He informed me that he would have me sent home. The reader can better imagine my delight than I can describe it.

        He requested Mrs. Cartwright to obtain a citizen's suit of men's clothing and to have me dressed in them by 9 o'clock a. m. on the following morning; he enjoined perfect secrecy upon each of us, and then took his departure. Mrs. Cartwright brought me a full suit of black, including a hat, and at the time appointed she, with the assistance of another lady, had succeeded

in making the disguise complete. I was now ready to leave, and lay covered up on my cot patiently waiting for the return of my friend. My military cap I left in the hospital, as a souvenir to the guard, but I specially avoided calling his attention to it. I do not know that he ever found it, as I failed to return and ask him.

        Soon after nine o'clock a. m. the young man appeared at the head of the stairs, spoke a few words to the sentinel, then came to where I was lying on my cot, carefully examined to see if my disguise would stand the test; after satisfying himself that nothing more was necessary, and that all was in good shape, he picked me up in his arms, as though I were nothing more than a small boy, then started for the door. As we passed the sentinels at the top and bottom of the stairs, he spoke something to each in a low tone; they stood aside and let him pass with me. We soon reached the side-walk in front of the hospital. Cumberland river was very high, in fact, higher than it had been for several years; the water covered the street in our front, reaching within two feet of the side-walk. The Federal

gunboats and transports were anchored in the river a short distance from the street, and there appeared to be nothing facing the hospital but a sea of muddy water and these fierce looking war vessels with their port-holes, ready to send forth death and destruction over the city. Near the hospital and a little south of it, a large brick building or block had but recently burned down; all the rubbish still remained. West of this burnt district, an alley ran east and west; this alley crossed a public street on the west, which ran north and south, continuing until it intersected an alley still farther west, which ran north and south. This part of Nashville, at this day and time, presents quite a different appearance, as compared with it then; any one to see it now would not recognize it as the Nashville of 1862. After landing on the side-walk, the hard rub presented itself in evading the patrol or police guards, who were patrolling the city. To enter the first alley without discovery, this burnt district had to be crossed, and if we could get into the rubbish without discovery, then we would be in no danger of coming in contact

with any of the police guards until we reached the public street some distance from where it was intersected by the alley running north and south. He succeeded in safely landing us over the debris, and we entered the alley from the west side of the street.

        We now traversed several back ways and alleys for some distance, carefully avoiding all public thoroughfares, when at length we came out into a public street in the main part of the city, and the first face that greeted us was a police guard, who belonged to the Federal army; he promptly ordered us to halt; fortunately, this guard was an intimate friend and acquaintance of the gentleman with me. He asked my friend where he was carrying that sick young man(?); his reply was, that I had been acting as clerk for a business firm in the city, and that I had been unable to be removed until now, that he was carrying me over to my home, which was only a few blocks off. This satisfied the guard, or at least appeared to; he stepped aside and permitted us to pass.

        We made quite a circuit around and through

the city, and avoided all public streets and places, when finally we came to a number of teams and wagons; the wagons were being loaded with farmers' supplies. My friend seemed to be very familiar with the owners of the teams and wagons, but I knew none of them. He, with the assistance of another gentleman, placed me in one of the wagon beds, covered me up closely and carefully with straw, blankets and sacks, until I was securely hid from view; all signs of daylight were completely obliterated, except just enough air for ventilation. After this was all finished, my friend shook my hand and whispered, "that I was now all right, to say nothing and I would be safe." He then left me, and I saw no more of him. Within an hour or so, this small caravan of teams and wagons started out of the city.

        I said nothing and could hear but little, as I was so completely covered up from the outer world. At the Federal picket lines, on the outskirts of Nashville, the teams were all stopped in the road and the wagons searched, but not very closely, and the picket guards failed to discover

me; hence, my anxiety was considerably relieved, and I felt that my escape was an assured success. I now fully realized the fact that there are situations in life when the slightest agreeable sensation alleviates all our suffering and ills. We traveled until late that evening, and sometime after dark stopped at a road-side inn, or country tavern, as this class of stopping places on the public highways were generally called by the people of Middle Tennessee at that day and time.

        Several travelers had already stopped at this place for the night, and a few of them worried me no little with their solicitude concerning my illness, and exposing myself to the bad weather, all of which I considered none of their business. I was well cared for here during the night, and was made to feel quite at home; being only a smooth-faced youth, of course, I was never questioned in regard to the army. I appreciated this part of the programme highly, for on this subject I adopted the better policy, which was to keep silent when anything concerning the war was mentioned. After an early breakfast the

next morning, our wagons moved on again, and the same precaution was observed in keeping me closely covered up from view as in Nashville, when we started on the previous day. In the afternoon, the wagon I occupied stopped in front of a neat and cozy farmhouse on the roadside. The appearance of everything about the house and farm was indicative of neatness, comfort and refinement, and all seemed to be very inviting to a stranger, who was both sick and tired.

        I now learned that this place was the home of the friend, in whose wagon I had been riding all the way from Nashville, and who had been so active and generous in facilitating my escape, had given me the benefit of his services during the entire trip from Nashville, and that his name was Gillum. A very genial looking matronly lady, whom I learned was Mr. Gillum's wife, came out to the wagon, and assisted me in getting into the house, and to a nice and comfortable feather bed. She immediately gave me her special attention, and could hardly do enough for me. Mr. Gillum informed her who I was, and how I had been taken out of the hospital at Nashville. This

seemed to enlist her sympathetic motherly feelings, and as long as I remained with them, they acted towards and treated me as though I were their own son. They never, at any time during my visit, failed to bestow upon me an act of kindness, when it was necessary. I will say that these people were some of the kindest and best I ever met in my life.

        I was near twenty miles from Nashville, and felt tolerably safe and secure, and had but little to fear from the hands of the Federal troops. My friend in Nashville, who carried me out of the hospital, wrote to my parents and informed them of my escape, also, as to my whereabouts. After remaining with this excellent family about fifteen days, my father came for me and carried me home, although, by this time, I had only recovered sufficiently to sit up a little each day and walk across my room. Mrs. Gillum had done all within her power to improve and better my health. I would be delighted to meet these good people now, and have an opportunity again of expressing to them my sincerest thanks and gratitude for the kindness they so voluntarily

bestowed upon me while I was a boy-soldier, away from home, acquaintances and friends, sick, helpless and worst of all, absolutely penniless.

        My regiment was captured at the fall of Fort Donelson, and sent off to a Northern prison, and I remained at home until it was exchanged and sent back South to Port Hudson, Louisiana, at which place I rejoined it soon after its arrival. I was never absent from duty again, but served with it in all the battles and skirmishes in which it was engaged, including that celebrated Georgia campaign, where we were under fire from the enemy's guns for four months continually day and night. Hood's advance into Tennessee to Franklin, terminated my fighing career with that battle on the 30th day of November, 1864, when, then and there: -

                        "Sad regrets from past experience,
                        Came like gales of chilling breath;
                        Shadow'd in the forward distance
                        Lay the land of death."

CHAPTER II.

THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN, TENNESSEE.

        It is not my purpose to attempt to give a graphic description of, or to enter into the minute details of this battle, for the following reasons: First, my incompetency to undertake such an arduous task, as I have no access to war records, or to any plans of that battle for a guide; and second, the years intervening between that time and the present, have caused the bloody scene somewhat to fade from memory's view. It was one of those quick and sanguinary conflicts, into which armies are sometimes hurriedly precipitated, and which are of short duration.

They are fought and terminated without any studied, or carefully matured plans. I shall only attempt to sketch that portion of it in which the command to which I belonged participated, as well as I can from memory, after the lapse of more than a quarter of a century.

        When General J. B. Hood, at the head of the Confederate army, entered the State of Tennessee, with a view of taking the city of Nashville, the Federal troops under the command of General Schofield, were occupying the town of Columbia, where they attempted to check the further advance of Hood and his army, but after some sharp fighting and considerable skirmishing, they were driven out of the town and across Duck river, and forced to evacuate the place, falling back in the direction of the town of Franklin. Our corps (Stewart's) arrived in front of Columbia some time after dark on the 28th of November, 1864, and went into camp in a field. The company to which I belonged occupied that portion on which had been grown a crop of Irish potatoes, they still being in the ground.

        After drawing our rations, which consisted

of small pieces of pork, which had never been salted, we soon had a large camp-kettle full of potatoes and pork on a blazing fire we had made out of fence rails, and by the time the wee small hours were drawing near, we were enjoying a delightful supper consisting of Irish potatoes and fat pork, independent of salt. The ground on which we were camping furnished the potatoes, after hard work grabbling them in the dark. The rations of pork, which were intended to last us three days, were the most of any kind we had drawn for several days, for during our long and toilsome march from Lovejoy station in Georgia, we had but little to eat at any time, save and except the juice we could obtain by chewing sorghum stalks, whenever a crop of that could be found. Sometimes, we were able to secure a little corn; this we would parch during the night, after going into camp. Many of our soldiers were barefooted, and their clothing very ragged; added to this, what little money we possessed was worthless; yet, the soldiers were buoyant and hopeful.

        When the sun rose on the following morning,

throwing his gentle rays beneath a cloudless sky causing the cold and misty frost to vanish, our troops were ready for action, and in high spirits at the prospect of having a brush with Schofield's army, but in this, we were disappointed. The Federals, instead of giving us battle, simply tried to hold our advance in check until their wagons and ordnance stores could be removed to a safe distance from capture, while their columns of infantry kept falling back. The rear guard, who covered their retreat, was closely pressed by a corps of Hood's infantry, while another portion of his infantry and Forrest's cavalry crossed the river to the right of Columbia, and by a forced march on their flank, endeavored to intercept their advance guard, in order to cut off their retreat and capture Schofield and his army.

        Our corps was also thrown across the river and hurried forward on a run, over hills and through the woods, to effect a junction with the troops who had been sent forward ahead of us. We moved forward over rocks, hills, down steep hollows, over stone and rail fences, through thick

underbrush, as fast as possible; frequently the field officers had to dismount and lead their horses by the bridle through narrow defiles and over steep declivities. Orders were continually being given along our line to close up and double-quick; wherever the ground would permit, we went on a run. Very often news would be sent down the line, that the cavalry and infantry ahead of us had succeeded in establishing a line of battle across the road in front of the Federal army, and then orders were given again to close up, close up, and double-quick.

        Having no roads over which to march, only now and then, and the rough, rugged and broken country, most of the time made it very difficult for our columns of infantry to travel with anything like speed, and our progress would often be greatly retarded. Some time in the early afternoon, the sound of cannon and discharge of musketry informed us that our troops were near, if not quite in their front, and officers came down our line hurrying us forward, at the same time informing us that General Hood had succeeded in throwing Forrest's cavalry and a line of

infantry across the pike in their front near Spring Hill, which was some twelve or eighteen miles from Columbia, and had checked their advance guard.

        We arrived on the scene just after dark, - that is, General Walthall's Division of Stewart's Corps; this division was on the extreme right of the corps, and was the first infantry to arrive at Spring Hill that evening. We were halted in a cornfield, ordered to lie down under arms, be ready for action at a moment's notice, and not to speak above breath. We were informed that this was the field on which our troops, during the afternoon, had a short engagement with the Federal advance guard, that our columns were within about two hundred yards of the Federal army, which was near twenty thousand strong, and that they were lying on the turnpike in line of battle; that a line of battle of infantry and one of our cavalry were across the road in their front, and joined to our right wing. Schofield pushed his wagon trains out of Columbia in advance of his army, and had kept them all ahead of his infantry during his retreat.

The wagon trains were supported by the advance guard of the Federal army.

        We felt confident that on the following day the whole army would be captured, but during the night, from some cause which I am unable to explain, our lines of battle were withdrawn from their front, leaving the road clear for their entire army and ordnance to pass. As soon as they discovered no opposition from their front, they at once resumed their retreat, while we lay under arms all night.

        When the dawn of the following morning appeared, and long before the sun had begun to shed his welcome rays o'er friend and foe alike, not a Federal soldier could be seen, except their rear guard, and that far beyond the range of our guns. When we discovered their successful escape on the morning of the 30th, our chagrin and disappointment can be better imagined than described. General Forrest was so enraged that his face turned almost to a chalky whiteness, and his lips quivered. He cursed out some of the commanding officers, and censured them for allowing the Federal army to escape. I looked

at him, as he sat in his saddle pouring forth his volumes of wrath, and was almost thunderstruck to listen to him, and to see no one dare resent it. * Preparations for pursuit were rapidly made, and our corps of infantry was ordered forward on double-quick time, soon overtaking the Federal rear guard, who were covering the retreat of Schofield's army.

        We were quickly engaged in a running skirmish fight, which continued until reaching a favorable eminence, they formed a line of battle supported by several pieces of cannon that glittered in the rays of the morning sun, all of which presented quite a formidable front. A few pieces of our light artillery were placed in position, and the infantry moved forward to charge them off the ridge, but when our line of battle began to advance, they fell back on a swift retreat, still keeping up a running skirmish fight, until closely pressed, they halted and formed another

line of battle to check us. These tactics were kept up until they reached the town of Franklin, some twelve miles from Spring Hill.

        We pressed the rear of Schofield's army in hot pursuit; in fact, so hot and close was the pursuit that every now and then the road would be almost blockaded with horses and mules, which had been sabred, wagons cut down, caissons destroyed, and piles of camp equipage set on fire. They made good their escape by reaching Franklin and taking shelter behind their breastworks. Our corps passed to the right of the town, and on the north side of the Columbia and Franklin pike, halting in a cornfield, within plain view of their works.

        The town of Franklin, rendered historic by the battle which was fought on the 30th day of November, 1864, is the county seat of Williamson county, Tennessee, and situate on the south side of Big Harpeth river. Prior to the war it was a beautiful little county town. The residences were constructed with that degree of taste and neatness which indicates a refined and cultured people. The surface of the surrounding

country is dotted with high knolls, which present to view the finest of landscape scenery. The adjacent hills overlook the town, und from the crest of almost any of them a fine view can be obtained of the surrounding country. The valleys are rich, and most of them kept in a high state of cultivation and improvement, the fields generally being enclosed with good, substantial stone fences, although some few were hedged with bois d'arc. The river runs in a northwesterly direction along the north side of the town and affords delightful sport to those who are fond of fishing. A line of railroad and turnpike connected the city of Nashville with the towns of Franklin and Columbia, Franklin being about eighteen miles from Nashville, ten to twelve miles from Spring Hill, and some twenty-eight miles from Columbia.

        After the fall of Nashville into the hands of the Federal troops, Franklin was continually occupied by soldiers, belonging to first one side and then the other. When Schofield's army arrived at Franklin from Columbia, the town was well fortified by the Federal troops who were

already there, and by those sent from Nashville by General Thomas to reinforce the place.

        The fortification consisted mainly of two lines of breastworks a short distance from the town, and from three to four hundred yards apart. Northeast of the town, on the north side of the river, on the summit of two elevated points, were two forts, one on each point. These forts were well mounted with several pieces of heavy cannon which could play on a line of men at long range, full half a mile off.

        The main line of works extended from the river below and southeast, connecting with the river above and northwest of the town. It was constructed by cutting a broad and deep ditch, throwing the dirt within, forming a strong line of defense, which would force an attacking column to cross it before scaling the works, subjecting it to a murderous fire of musketry from the infantry behind the works, even after reaching the ditch; after gaining the ditch it would be almost impossible to climb over the works without short scaling ladders. The works were high enough to protect the whole body of a man

standing erect, except the head and neck. Headlogs were placed on top of this line of fortifications to protect their heads from our minie balls. The logs were large and raised off the works, leaving a space of some three or four inches between them and the crest of the works to see well how and where to shoot. This line of breastworks, from its intersection with the river northeast of the town to the left of the Columbia and Franklin pike, was well mounted with several pieces of cannon bristling from their parapets, all of which were amply supplied with munition.

        Situate on the south side of the river, northeast of the town and on the line of works, a battery of thirty-six pieces of cannon was planted, and so arranged that each gun could enfilade the whole space between the two lines of breastworks and completely clear it by a raking fire of grapeshot and canister from end to end of an advancing column of infantry or cavalry on the same side of the river. Some distance, perhaps two hundred yards further down the line, a battery of six cannon was planted, which showed

their ugly mouths through the embrasures of the parapets; these guns were also arranged so as to enfilade the lines of a storming column which might succeed in reaching the edge of the ditch on the outside and before entering it.

        A short distance south of the Columbia and Franklin pike, on the line, and to our left, another battery of twelve guns was planted and so arranged as to enfilade the space between both lines of works from that direction, thus exposing a line of men to raking fires of grape and canister from both directions. The grape and canister thrown from all these guns could rake the ground near the edge of the ditch within twenty feet of their mouths, the whole distance occupied by an attacking column, while their own men were perfectly secure on the inside and behind the line of works. The whole space in front of the main line of works to the second was exposed to a galling fire of all the batteries from each way, to say nothing of the exposure to the fire of musketry from the infantry behind the breastworks, which was as destructive, if not more so, than that from the grape and canister.

        North of this line in our front a large cotton gin stood, some twenty or thirty feet from the works - it may have been a little farther or nearer; some ten feet northeast of the gin two oak trees were standing, the larger a few feet nearly due north of the smaller; west of the gin and on the south side of the Columbia and Franklin pike, a large two-story brick residence was standing, which was owned and occupied by a Mr. Carter and his family; south of this and near the line of works, a small one-story brick house with a frame building attached was standing. These buildings, at the commencement of the engagement, were occupied by Federal sharpshooters.

        Behind this line of works the Federal troops were massed, and the ground seemed to be covered for a distance of fifty yards from the works with soldiers wearing the blue uniform, their guns and bayonets shining with a dazzling brightness in the sun. They appeared all the time to be in motion, forming lines of battle, one behind the other, as indicated by the positions of their blue banners and battle-flags; all their lines of

men could not be seen from our position, while concentrating their forces. Their torn and perforated regimental colors, as they floated on the breeze, bespoke the story plainer than language can paint it, of the many fierce encounters they had met with during that long and bloody campaign through which they had just passed, and which was destined shortly to come to a final close. Courier after courier on their horses could be seen galloping to and fro, as if carrying orders from one part of the position to another; their sappers and miners, or fatigue parties, seemed to be hard at work completing the fortifications; their spades and picks could be seen swiftly going up and down, and the dirt thrown from their spades flying to the top of the parapets; they were as active and industrious as gopher rats and prairie dogs when they are trying to burrow into the earth. Their main forces of infantry and artillery were well arranged in lines of battle behind this line of works a short time before the engagement began.

        A short distance in front of the works, a line

of cheval-de-frise was placed, extending from near and opposite the battery of thirty-six cannon west, reaching very near, if not quite to the pike. This cheval-de-frise is a piece of timber, a long log, or several long logs, for instance, with one end of each placed together, the logs being traversed with wooden spikes, sometimes pointed with iron, five or six feet long, used to defend a passage, stop a breach, or make a retrenchment to check the advance of cavalry, but during the late war, was used against the advance of infantry as well. A few feet in front of this cheval-de-frise, a bois d'arc hedge had been cut down, the tops fronting us, they were trimmed and sharpened; this brush was very thick, and the points of the limbs being sharpened made it very difficult to pass over; this hedge formed an abatis - that is, a row of trees and their branches, and laid with the points outward, in front of a fortification or any other position, to obstruct the approach of assailants. The larger ends of the branches are secured to the ground by forked pickets. All of these obstructions would check an advancing column of

infantry or cavalry, thus affording the enemy a good opportunity to destroy it. On the left of the pike a locust thicket had been cut down, their tops being trimmed and sharpened, and this, in connection with the cheval-de-frise, made a very effective and formidable obstruction in front of that position.

        Their second, or front line of works, was from three hundred to four hundred yards in advance of the former which I have just described. It was simply a line of intrenchments hastily thrown up, or at least had that appearance, the ditch dug within and the dirt thrown outward, forming a temporary line, and had no head-logs to protect their heads; this line would only afford protection to the lower part of the body without lying down behind it. It had no cannon bristling from their embrasures. A line of battle, and also a skirmish line, had been thrown behind it, - their guns and bayonets, in a threatening attitude, pointed at our lines over the works. These two lines of earth works passed through an old field, which had been turned out and used as a commons. A dense beech grove

had recently been standing at the edge of this commons on the right of the pike fronting this position and in our front, but had been cut down, making a thicket of brushwood which was almost impenetrable; considerable work had to be done in clearing a passage through it before a line of battle could pass through, or over it, in anything like order.

        The cornfield, which we occupied, was directly behind this beech grove. The field had been cultivated that year, on which had been grown a crop of corn and little white soup beans. The corn had been gathered, but the beans were left hanging on the vines. We considered ourselves fortunate in being halted in this field on account of the crop of beans, and the majority of us were anxious to obtain a mess of them. We badly needed them to cook with the fresh, unsalted pork which we had drawn at Columbia. Many of us were filling our haversacks with these beans when Billy Mumford, one of General Quarles' aides, came riding down our line, and seeing us busily engaged in gathering the beans, as a smile went over his genial face, remarked,

"Boys, you need not be gathering those beans, we have to storm those breast-works over there (he pointing in the direction of them) this afternoon." We had no further interest in gathering beans, the charm of soup-making vanished as swiftly as did the beans we had gathered - were dashed to the ground. We remained under arms from the time we arrived within this field, which was ten or eleven o'clock in the forenoon, until near four in the afternoon, at which time hunger reminded us that we had tasted nothing since before daylight that morning, at Spring Hill, and we were not permitted to break ranks, in order to prepare our rations.

        Our troops had maintained their excellent spirits up to this time, notwithstanding our sore disappointment in not being allowed to make the attempt to capture Schofield and his army at Spring Hill; but the cloud of disappointment which had so suddenly enveloped us at Spring Hill, now reappeared more ominous than ever, causing our patriotic enthusiasm and most sanguine hopes to wane, and ere the dawn of another

day had given place to feelings of bitter despair.

        Our division, General Walthall's, was placed on the extreme right of the Columbia and Franklin pike, and formed the right wing and constituted the front line of battle of that position; this was to be the assailing column of the Federal works in our front. After this front line was definitely located, the remainder of our infantry began to form in lines of battle one behind the other. While this was going on the Federal army, who lay behind their main line of works, mounted on top of it, and stood for several minutes viewing our lines. We had a good view of them standing on top of their breast-works, their fine blue uniforms shining in the soft and hazy rays of a beautiful November's afternoon. Our right wing was nearly in front of the battery of thirty-six cannon on the main line of the Federal works, and a little to the right of the battery of six pieces of cannon on same works. We thoroughly understood that this portion of the line of battle had to storm the works near the battery of thirty-six guns, and if possible, take it.

        As soon as the lines of battle were formed, a number of our field officers rode out a little in front of the lines, - they were Walthall, Loring, Cheatham, Quarles, Cleburne, Granberry, and perhaps others; these officers appeared to hold a brief consultation, during which we could see them cast doubting glances in the direction of the formidable foe in our front; and judging from the appearance of their grave and serious looks, we all knew that our commanders in some degree realized the depth of that yawning gulf of destruction which awaited them and us, and which only too soon would engulf us all. These officers separated, each taking his respective place with his command. A profound silence pervaded the entire army; it was simply awful, reminding one of those sickening lulls which precede a tremendous thunderstorm. This was but momentary. Orders now rang down our line, shrill and clear, to forward march!

        The guns from the redoubts northeast of the town opened on us at long range, but they were scarcely noticed by us. The artillerymen who were manning these guns had a fine opportunity