Rebel Private: Front And Rear: Memoirs Of A Confederate Soldier

William A. Fletcher

• Publisher: Golden Springs Publishing
• Year: 2015
• eBook ISBN: 9781786251787
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: 19th Century History
• Index: History

"The recent rediscovery of Rebel Private: Front and Rear, effectively lost for decades, marks an authentic publishing event in the literature of the Civil War. A rare insight into the conflict from the point of view of a Confederate army enlisted man, this compelling memoir has been hailed by historians as a classic and indispensible key to understanding the Southern perspective. Margaret Mitchell even described it as her single most valuable source of research for Gone With the Wind.
"This stunning document is the work of a common foot soldier blessed with extraordinary perception and articulateness. After joining the famed Texas Brigade under Stonewall Jackson. Private William A. Fletcher saw action at Second Manassas, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Chancellorsville, and Chickamauga. He was wounded several times and escaped from a moving Union prison train before the South's surrender. In 1907, he published this powerfully evocative account of his exploits, a volume of frank, detailed recollections that spares none of the horror, courage, or absurdity of war. But a fire destroyed all but a few copies before they could be distributed. One copy, however, did make its way to the Library of Congress, where it was eventually discovered. Today, this colorful work has become the voice of the Civil War front-line grunt, speaking to the modern reader with the intensity of personal experience and a vividness of detail that gives it a riveting you-are-there quality."- Print ed.
"Get this riveting book. Fletcher's description of Gettysburg surpasses almost everything I've read anywhere about that battle, including—gasps!—Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels."—Jeff Guinn, Fort Worth Star-Telegram
"Epitomizes unsung, unintentional greatness.... Readers find themselves in the trenches.... May become seminal reading for Civil War scholars and history buffs." —St. Louis Post-Dispatch

CAPTURE AND ESCAPE

THE NEXT INCIDENT of note was in battle line, near Rome, Georgia; and from what I could see, the rangers were detached from the other cavalry. We were lined up in an open field with a thick underbrush and timber growth not far to our rear, and in front a short distance there seemed to be a stream or water drain from the timber appearance. And beyond, for a considerable distance, there was an open field, and on the far side of this field and near the timber, we could plainly see the enemy’s infantry forming in battle line; and we thought they were preparing to advance, so I guess all eyes were to the front, with no thought of flank, for the first warning we had of being flanked by the enemy’s cavalry was their nearness and the charging and shooting at our right, and as we were formed at right angle to the main road that we had come in on, we were, to a great extent, cut off from the road and the greater part of the Rebs in their flight took to the woods, or to the near country or farm road and were soon strung out in the road, making the best run they could in single or double file, and the Yanks were in close pursuit, running about in the same order as we were. I heard some firing on the main road and from that and the direction we were running our road ran nearly parallel to the public road. I heard no attempt to form and fight, and I afterwards learned that the run was made to prevent the enemy from cutting us off from the mountain gap. The distance from start to finish, was said to be about nine miles, but the Rebs got to the gap first and stopped—the longest run, I guess, the Terry boys were ever in. Soon after we entered the farm road, I dropped to the rear and commenced what is called firing on retreat. As the brush at places was so thick, there were but few men in action at times; and often not more than two. The enemy seemed to be cheered by catching us napping and were making every effort to crowd us, but had to keep to the road, so their advance guard had none the advantage of our rear guard. After emptying my carbine, I spurred up the line and reloaded, and was checking at favorable places to be at or near the rear so I could come into action when I thought I could render service. This was my first opportunity while in cavalry to get into a scrap of the kind and as I knew there was no special rear guard for the occasion, therefore, it was a free for all business, and as all the other fellows had opportunities before, it made me rather greedy to be in the rear when I could have as well kept my place in line. At a point where there were but few men to the rear of me, and my horse was going at a sweeping lope, it put both forefeet into a hole that was made by the rotting of a stump, but did not fall; but while in the act of recovering, it was struck by a near horse and thrown on its side, my left foot and leg were under the horse, but both feet clear of stirrup. I grabbed the bridle reins near the bit with my left hand and at each effort of the horse to get up it was struck, but I hung to the rein and was fortunate enough not to be trampled upon. In my animal’s last effort to rise, it was across the road on its knees, and I was on one hand and knees; and in this position I was knocked loose from my hold on the reins by a rear horse, which was a large dark bay or brown, rode by a lieutenant. The horse, in passing the head of my horse, struck me about the center of the forehead with its right fore leg. I fell back, and saw stars, as it were. I was stretched full length on my back with my head from the enemy and my hand loose from the rein. As I arose I saw two Yanks in sight, coming my way. I turned, running; saw my horse fleeing at good speed. I was a moderately fast runner, especially when scared. I thought I could overtake our rear, but they fast left me—and from the noise behind, I knew the Yanks were gaining. They were not shooting, but were having their fun at my expense, yelling: “Run you Rebel S— of a B—. Hide out; we will catch you, Johnnie,” and such like. From the noise, I knew they were gaining fast; but I did not have time to look around. My mind at this time was concentrated on one point only, and that was, run—had no thought of surrender, or overtaking our men, as hope in that direction had gone; it was run, run. The noise behind indicated their nearness and urging of horses that they were going to run over me. They had never said surrender, and I had no mind that there was such a thing. My first thought of realization was the attempt to run over me and their horses’ heads were near my back when this thought struck me. I sprang to my right instantly—the right horse cleared me about a foot—the rider could have knocked me down, if he had been expecting the move. The right man fired first and as their horses were near speed, the smoke passed to the front and right. The left man fired over the rump of the right horse, but from the smoke of the first shot, I did not note the direction the ball passed. The next thought was to fall; the next to lie still; the next—I am not hit or I would have heard shot. I was laying on my right side with my feet nearest the road looking the way I was running. I had come to my senses now enough to hurriedly think and plan; had eyes near closed—saw the two Yanks rein up; heard noise behind; the two Yanks turned and started to me. Just then an officer with a squad of twenty or thirty came up. The officer halted the squad, gave the two men a good cursing for stopping to prowl dead Rebs when the fighting line were near by, and threatened them with punishment, or any others he caught; ordered them on at speed and he gave the command: “Forward,” and dashed ahead—the officer was but a minute halting, cursing and moving. I could hear a noise to the rear and knew that others were coming, and took chances as the squad passed, of any of them looking back. Just at my back, with limbs to the road, stood a scrubby oak tree, several inches in diameter. At the ground the foliage was thick and some of it was near or resting on the ground. I quickly crawled under and lay drawn up on the opposite side of the body of the tree, face to the road. The second squad soon passed at a good speed—there were nearly two hundred in this body. The firing now was quite a distance off—heard a roaring to the rear and was satisfied that it was the enemy’s main force. I looked for other hiding; saw about two hundred feet from the road a good sized uprooted tree; was soon on the opposite side, laying flat, with my body well wedged under the curve of the log. By quick work, I just had time to avoid detection. I lay in this position while a large troop of cavalry passed at full loping speed. When their rear had passed, I raised up and looked well to the rear for stragglers —saw none, neither did I much expect it, for the distance the main body was behind the advance caused me to think they were fearful of an ambuscade. After they had all passed, I went to opposite the place where I was dismounted. I kept well to the side of the road, in brush, cautiously going to the point and seeing no straggling enemy, was soon on and over full fifty yards of the road that horse and I had been thumped over, picking up such articles as were to be seen of the wreck; found a piece of tobacco and a silver spoon, that I got near the pontoon bridge on the Rappahannock, also my carbine, and it looked to be unharmed, and I took it to be in perfect order, and I knew it was freshly loaded, so I pronounced it good and that I was in luck. All other earthly effects, less clothes on my body, were gone; so, as it were, I must make a new start in life. I was soon in the foot hills, making fair time in the direction of my command; saw, during daylight, several small squads of the enemy roaming the country. When night came, I left the foot hills and took my chances on more level ground, but followed down the mountain range. I did not see or hear the enemy during night tramp; struck our outpost on the road, passed near them unobserved, and found my command at the entrance of the mountain gap. The next morning I got leave of absence to remount. Before leaving camp, some of the boys gave me two light home-spun spreads, as they were called, and a Yankee rubber rain proof which was of size about four by five feet, with a hole in the center for one’s head. So, with a freshly loaded carbine and a few extra cartridges, and well housed from the cold or rain, I was soon near the enemy’s picket line across the river from Rome. I was several days scouting near, before I made an attempt to mount. The Yanks during the time sent out several foraging parties, but they were too large and kept so near bunched up that I saw no favorable chance of getting a horse. While on this bum I met two fellows who had seen no service, but who were anxious to. From their talk I guessed them to ne sincere—they both had good guns; so I told them I would give them a trial and help mount them, provided they would faithfully obey orders. They promised, and as they were well versed in the surroundings, I was soon advised of the best mode of procedure and the best way to retreat when going out mounted. I took my time and in fact was taking advantage of my liberty, and as the Yanks had not treated that section brutally, there was plenty to eat at all the places at which I stopped; but all the stock was taken that was fit for work or food; but no other depredations or abuses heard of, less the use of fencing for fires. I was at and near the place several times where I was dismounted. Near by lived a widow—her family consisted of two daughters and one son. She had been a resident of Rome, but had moved out when the enemy took possession. I stayed one night at this house, and was told of the Rebel stampede and the enemy’s close pursuit; and on their return there was a search made for a dead Reb who had been killed nearby on the side of the road, and they accused them of hiding the body, as they knew they had killed him for one of them had placed his gun against his head and fired, and the other had plugged him in the breast as he fell, and they knew he was dead for they stopped and looked at him and said they were going to prowl him and have evidence to show what they had done, but the officer came up too quick and made them go on. The family were curious if it was as they said, as none of the near neighbors knew of a newly made grave. When they got through, I asked if they knew of a hole in the road just in sight of the house and they said “Yes, where a stump had rotted.” I asked how far it was from that point to the dead Reb and they said about three hundred yards further up from what the Yankees said. They were somewhat surprised when I told them to make no further inquiry about the newly made grave for I was the corpse. While on this outing, I was often separated from the boys and they followed instructions, as far as I knew; and that was not to fire a gun, only in self defense; to take no prisoners as we could not get them out; to keep well concealed from the enemy or anyone that they knew would inform on us, for our only object was to mount, but not to undertake it where we were not sure of success. I could have, upon more than one occasion, turned out butchering stock from enclosure at night, but thought it would possibly have done harm instead of good, as the Yanks would have recovered the most of them and held it against the near by settlers. I could have made captives of some of their infantry, but kept out of sight. In about a week’s time I got my forces together and explained my plans, which were, to capture the two out-riding pickets. This, I found to be the custom on one of the main roads, that when the two men on post were relieved they rode to the front on the road about one-fourth of a mile and at once returned. So we came down through brush, between river and road to a favorable point, as the two Yanks passed going out, we secreted ourselves near the side of the road. This was done late in the evening, so the enemy’s chances of pursuit were not good. The boys were to take the off rider and pay no attention to the near, as I would take him. I had cautioned them to be sure and not shoot, as we were nearly in sight of their pickets and their detail was but a short distance in the rear. One of the boys was to go to the rear and the other to the front, just as I ordered them to halt and hold up their hands; and mount horse, when rider was disarmed and dismounted. At the proper time, as the Yanks were returning with no apparent thought of the enemy, I stepped out to the front and they obeyed orders. The boys went to the proper place and the front one had the horse by the bridle rein near bits, but were greatly excited and the Yank, seeing this, was courageous enough to stick spurs to his horse and turn and run off, and they both shot off their guns when the Yank was at least fifty yards off, and I was saying: “Don’t shoot.” I don’t think I ever saw a person lose his senses and go to pieces as badly as those two kids did. My prisoner was disarmed and dismounted in short order and was in front, running to the rear with the boys. I halted them when at a safe distance out, and went through the Yank’s pockets; got a good silver watch and some tobacco and swapped boots with him; then turned him loose and told him he could report for duty. I mounted one of the boys on the horse and instructed him to take it home which was several miles off and hide out—and to have him attended to, and to return and look us up. The Yank was about as excited as the boys, but seemed to be much relieved when told to go. The Yank had no side arms, which I regretted, as I had, up to this time, failed to procure any, but had no need for them, as the carbine so far had been all I had needed. I saw but few negroes during the war, with U.S.A. uniform on; but on this tramp just out from the picket line late one evening I arrested one—he thought he would surely meet death, and commenced begging. I told him to quiet down and tell the truth, and I would let him go. I asked him several questions in regard to the enemy’s position in and about Rome and some of them 1 knew to be correct; I thought all his answers were about as he understood conditions. He claimed to be a servant and had gotten permission to go out and see some colored people near by and did not think of seeing a Reb. He promised to say nothing about our meeting and gave me his knife and tobacco for the mere asking. I advised him in future to keep well in his line of blue and turned him loose. He was very profuse in his thanks. The next morning after the capture of the horse, one of the boys and 1 were some miles up the river, looking for a favorable place to swim horses, as I knew of the cavalry camps on the opposite side, and that the enemy only watched the most favorable places. I was hunting a good outcome on the bank from them, where they were not guarding; had found the same, but was looking further to see if we could find a better place. We were so far above town that we had no thought of meeting the enemy and were walking in a country wagon road that nearly paralleled the river. My plan was to swim the river at night, although the water was cold. I knew I could keep part of my clothing dry and was going to leave the balance, also my gun with Pard, on the home side, at the selected crossing; and I was going to try my luck in making a sneak steal of two horses and equipment and putting them across the stream. I was confident that I could do it at the proper time at night when the camp fires were low and all was quiet, but while walking in the road mentioned, all was lost; for there appeared to our front, about four hundred yards up the road three well mounted Yanks. As soon as they saw us they put spurs to their horses and commenced firing. I jumped behind a tree and fired and told Pard to protect and fight. He sure did protect but did not fire a shot. His tree of protection was fully two hundred yards out from the road, although he passed numbers equally as good. After my first shot I could not reload. I tried in vain and was so intent that the Yanks were on three sides and near, with guns pointing and holloaing to drop the gun or they would kill me. They fired several shots while coming my way, but all went wild of the mark—if I was the intended one. They saw my earnest but helpless condition and seemed to have no thought of bodily injury, if they could avoid it. After I dropped the gun, they called Pard in and had considerable sport out of his cowardly run. One of the Yanks said to me: “Look here, Reb, you must be a good shot. See this hair cut and ear burn? You did it; and you are lucky it is no worse, or we would have killed you. The ear don’t bleed, but the upper part burns like the mischief.” We were ordered to leave our guns and mount behind. We did so and they were off in a lope. I was now reflecting on my condition and the cause of my gun not working, as I had carried it for some time and it had never failed to work promptly. The idea struck me that it was put out of order when the horse fell, in the stampede, and was run over by the cavalry. I then thought that when I picked up the gun I pronounced it uninjured, knew it was loaded and had magazine full, but gave it no minute inspection and that it had not been fired up to that time, so I felt I had no one to blame but myself for carelessness, as I thought I could have unmanned each horse if gun would have worked, but such was then to be my fate, the always dreaded confinement of a prisoner. Our captors were young, courageous, but inexperienced soldiers, made no unkind or taunting remarks, they seemed to have no thought of attempted escape or they surely would have rode different from what they did. The two that had prisoners behind them should have paired and rode ahead, but several times I and my mount were behind and near up to the front couple and each had an army Colt’s in his belt and I saw how easy I could get possession of the one that was so near me and with it I could give my man a dead shot or a stunning blow, and at least shoot one of the front men before they could fire with any degree of correctness, and would have an even go with the third. All this would revolve through my mind and I also thought of the brutality of such an act perpetrated on men who had shown themselves not to be of the abusive or bloodthirsty kind; and there was Pard with his back to me, to consider; for, in the effort, if started, I might kill him, although I felt I would have been better off if some one had done it long since—for I thought the beastly coward needed killing, but I could not take the chances of doing it. I would feel at times that I would be better dead than in prison, and would, at times, feel that I was near the point of desperation. Then a little reasoning would say: all wrong; it would be brutal. So I went for some distance with this feeling and I cannot to this day say whether it was fear of committing an uncalled for brutal act, or was it pure cowardice that I did not attempt to escape. I had two similar instances to happen soon after. One I did not attempt, for the other fellow weakened, but the mind conditions were similar. The third one was all to self and was accomplished and mind strain was similar. Our captors were true to what was said to be General Sherman’s teaching, that “War is hell,” and the principle practiced was about the same, “Not to kill, but punish.” When we had gone some distance, we were passing near settlers’ places. They would shoot such animals as were near the roadside, and if they were dead shots, they did not prove it, as I only saw one fall; but they seemed to enjoy even to have hit the brute. I well remember one nice flock of sheep that were near the road and near the front of a residence. They each took several shots at the bunch of poor harmless brutes, and to see them squirm in agony, from laughter and remarks, one would at least suppose they were enjoying it. I had remonstrated several times before they struck the sheep, they taking it good naturedly; but did not heed. When they turned loose on the sheep, I said: “Boys, if you had done that in Texas, the owner would follow you to your grave, as they do a sheep killing dog; and I think one of the worst men we have in our company will not kill a sheep, when he is hungry; and if you live and are so fortunate as to ever live in Texas, don’t tell this, or it will put you in bad repute.” They took no offense, but laughed at my remarks. My Pard’s mother and aunt lived in Rome, and he was much mortified at being a prisoner, and was scared at his probable fate; as the Yanks soon found he was a weak subject and had no control over his fears, and was very anxious to explain. They put a number of questions to him, and got about a correct report of our doings. When we struck the main road, we were ordered to dismount and walk ahead—the road was wet and muddy. Pard and I were walking side by side and when the Yanks would ask a question and he would start to answer and explain, I would punch him with my elbow. They did not order me to desist, but seemed to enjoy the punching; so this left it with me to punch and curse at will, and several times I sent him staggering and groaning nearly across the road by a good hard elbow punch in the rib. I suppose the punishment was great for both of my elbows felt the effects of the blows, and I guess he got a fair share of pain; but with all this, he told that we were two of the party of three that had captured the picket and how it was done, and that I had given him the watch and he had left it with a friend, fearing that he would lose it, and stated the place the watch was; and started to tell at what point the horse could be found. I said to him in low tone: “If you tell, I will cut your throat.” This upset him so that he made a denial of any knowledge of horse hiding as Charley had rode off with no special orders. I have often thought of those three young Yanks, and if it was not one of the incidents in their lives that they have told numbers of times. We crossed the river near the edge of town on a pontoon bridge and were taken near the center and put in the second story of a small house that had a step entrance outside, running with the sidewalk and a good sized platform for a landing in front of the door. On this platform there was a guard and on the sidewalk below there was one who walked post length of the building. During the day the entrance door was left open at times, one or two prisoners would be permitted to stand on the platform and view the surroundings. I found in the prison fifteen or twenty prisoners, but if I remember correctly, there was not one of the old battling line boys. They were partly of the untrained, and partly belonging to no branch of the service; and were confined for some reported or supposed offense and were treated the same as prisoners of war. I soon got acquainted with a middle aged gentleman who was there for the great and heinous crime of aiding and sympathizing—if I remember correctly, he was not a native, but had been in that vicinity a number of years and was well versed in the surroundings and the loyalty of the people and he said they might as well imprison every white man, woman and child so far as his acquaintance went—if he had committed a punishable offense. He and I soon got somewhat chummy—he had been there several days and well understood prison management. I think I remained in this place five days and there was plenty of food provided; but I had no appetite and would eat but little. I was restless and was nearly all the time, when awake, building air castles of escape. I was standing on the platform about noon of the second day when I saw the provost captain, whom I had learned by sight, coming my way with the man I recognized as the one I had captured and was then wearing his boots. I was fearful there was an investigation on, so I went back into the room and rolled bedding around me and laid down by the side of the wall, with all parts hid, and played asleep. I heard them ascending the steps and entering and a voice saying, “Look around and see if you can find him.” I laid motionless, less the thumping of my heart, and I thought it was unusually noisy. I did not have to lay in this suspense long, when the covering was pulled from my head and a big Dutch form bending over me, saying in a brogue well drawn out: “Here he is, Cappitan.” The captain ordered me up and asked me if I did not have on that man’s boots. I said, “Yes, if he claims they are his, and they were mine when I claimed them under war custom.” The captain’s face showed a bland smile and he said: “Off with them boots.” So in short order the exchange was made and I was on my feet. The captain then stated that he was going to turn me over to the cavalry regiment that my once prisoner belonged to, to be shot; as I had been reported of intent and acts of sufficient proof that I was going to put a prisoner to death and by mismanagement on my part he escaped. I stood motionless, with intent gazing on the face of my judge and jury while he pronounced sentence which, in my mind, was to be executed, as ordered. When he was through, he asked the green Dutch Yank if he had not correctly stated. Before he had time to reply, I had turned facing him, with uplifted fist, in a wild and maniacal rage, daring and cursing and calling him all hard names that my memory was gifted with. I said: “Speak, speak, and a damned liar’s teeth go down his throat.” The poor helpless being trembled and did not open his mouth. I think he was the most subdued subject I ever saw. The captain saw the pitiful condition of his man and spoke, and attracted my attention. I faced him in silence. He said he knew the man had reported correctly and he was going to turn me over to the regiment to be shot. The words were not more than out of his mouth when I said, in as calm a tone as I could command, “Captain, I am an honorable old line soldier, served in Hood’s Texas Brigade in Virginia; was wounded twice; disabled from infantry duty; was transferred to Terry’s Texas Rangers, and when you have shot me, you will have committed a crime that the Hood and Terry boys will liberally revenge, for under no conditions can you take me from this prison without publicity. If you desire secrecy, you had better shoot the whole bunch.” He listened very courteously until 1 was through, and turned to walk out, remarking: “Your doom is sealed; I will have you shot.” I bounded to his front, in wild rage; tore the front of my shirt bosom open saying: “Shoot, shoot, you damned Yankee, shoot,” and pounded on my breast, with both fists, at quick motion, with rebound of fist nearly tou...

Table of contents

• Title page
• TABLE OF CONTENTS
• To The Public
• EXPERIENCES AND OBSERVATIONS FROM THE EARLY FIFTIES AND THROUGH THE CIVIL WAR
• GEN. JACKSON’S FLANKING GEN. MCCLELLAN AND SEVEN DAYS’ BATTLE BEFORE RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
• BATTLE OF SECOND MANASSAS
• BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG, VIRGINIA
• BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA
• BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA
• CAPTURE AND ESCAPE
• SURRENDER AND RETURN HOME