Civil War Reminiscence
by Jessee G. Jones
Chapter I (written 1911-12, Knoxville, Texas)
One of the most remarkable incidents of my Career in the army was my Capture by the federal Soldiers and escape in July 1862. Inexperience in warfare and only a 19 year old boy limited as to generalship. I was face to face with the complex problem that went life or death to me. On the 16th of February Fort Donalson was surrendered to the federals. My regement was included in the surrender, self excepted, who narrowly escaped by making a risky venture for liberty across the Cumberland river which was at that time swolen and angry. The snow was deep and the weather cold. The craft used for ferry boat would have been condemned for an ocean liner. About 20 happy souls rejoiced over their safe voyage and speedily disbanded into the woods which was rich in the verdure of thickets and colored my sympathy for the comrades left over in the Fort, for it was generally known that they were to go to Camp Douglus, Chicago. This rendered me almost heartbroken for I knew the biting cold of the climate would work sad havoc in their ranks. My own condition however required thought and much consideration for I was a long way from home, without friends, with a hostile force on my trial. My safety seems to lie in one direction only, that protection which the thickets offered. Yankee home guards patrolled the openings and roads thereby preventing my exit to more congenial parts. Hunger was not long in manifesting a morbid craving for food, to obtain which required risk, danger vigilence. The mandates of the appetite are absolutely monarchial and despotic. Perhaps there were ten or twelve houses in one mile of my headquarters; who they were and what they were, and to which side their sympathies belonged required a mind reader to fortell. The venture become urgent and had to be met regardless of consequences, and with the promptings of a famishing body with out furthur hesitancy I boldly appeared at the front door of one of these houses. "Madam", addressing the Lady at the door “my mission here is to confess the honor of being a Confederate soldier. I am driven by hunger to risk all and so far as I know may be digging my own grave; be that as it may, I have a few Yankee pennies I wish to invest in food." "Your Yankee shinplasters are despisable in my sight" she said "your gratitude for food is far more valuable to me. I have furnished the Confederacy my dear husband who is now famishing in prison,"The Bell Wood prisoners proved up to be worse scared than hurt and was sent back home immediately, all except the head managers of the concern. As I did not belong to that class I got my freedom at the same time as the Subordinates. The charge of being an escaped confederate still hounded me and a small detail was on trial in the thickets in search of my whereabouts. I was making wonderful progress in learning with facts and tactics of war. I told my newly made friends good-bye wishing them all sorts of good luck and promising to return to them when the great excitement abated. I secluded my movements to the best of my skill and rambled away from the Fort. I felt my self too green to cope with Yankee army of two million soldiers with no better equipment for flank movements than my arsnal and cargo of war impliments presented. It was no longer a question with me of right. I had to assert my feble strength to produce might. My condition and attitude before the world required arms to defend myself. How to procure them was a hard problem. To request such ment a ready protest and ment a complete give away I determined to arise and get busy.
Source:
Cheryl's Family Index | email to Cheryl Grubb
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