A Youth's History of the Great Civil War
Van Evrie, Horton & Co., ©1866
Revised edition, ©2006 www.ronie-mooney-encs.us
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CHAPTER XXXIV, THE BATTLE OF MURFREESBORO-DOINGS IN THE WEST, ETC.
LEAVING the Army of the Potomac for awhile, let us now return to Tennessee and see what has been passing there. The Confederate army, under General Bragg, to the number of about thirty thousand had been resting at Murfreesboro for more than a month.
There General Bragg was resting in happy, but not over useful, security, when, on Friday, the 26th of December, he was startled, as from a dream, with tidings that Rosecrans had broken up his camp at Nashville, and was marching rapidly upon him.
Bragg's pickets were driven in that very afternoon. The next day, December 27th, Rosecrans made a feint attack to feel the position of the Confederate army, but General Wheeler's cavalry gained his rear and captured a good many wagons and a number of prisoners. But the great battle did not really begin until the morning, the 31st of December, when General Bragg ordered an advance. It was an impetuous one, and the position of Rosecrans' line upon which the assault was made, wavered, and finally broke and fell back. Before noon Bragg captured five thousand prisoners, thirty pieces of cannon, five thousand stand of arms,and a large number of ammunition wagons. The right wing of Rosecrans' army was driven back over five miles. Thus matters stood when darkness shut down upon the battle-field.
The next day neither party made any sign of renewing the fight. Bragg telegraphed to Richmond that he had won a great victory. It was the 1st day of January, and he said, "God has granted us a happy New Year." The next day Rosecrans showed no sign of either retreating,or beginning the fight again. But he had made the best of the two days' rest which Bragg had given him, and to a naturally strong position he had hastily added strong defensive works.
At three o'clock of that day General Bragg opened an assault upon the Federal lines again. It was the beginning of another terrible battle, in which, after a desperate struggle,the Confederate forces were repulsed, and lost about all they had gained before. But night fell upon both armies occupying nearly the position they held in the morning.
The next day was a cold rain-storm, and neither army made any movement. But towards evening General Bragg heard that his enemy was receiving reinforcements; and, that night he withdrew the Confederate army to a place called Tullahoma, twenty-two miles from Murfreesboro.
At the very time these battles were going on in Tennessee the Confederates gained some important victories in Texas, by which they retook the City of Galveston, which had for some time been in the hands of the abolition army.
Alternate Confederate victories and reverses were transpiring throughout the West and South; but as yet no visible impression had been made upon what was called "the rebellion." Indeed, thus far, the general tide of victory had been almost everywhere in its favor.
The abolitionists were discouraged. Many in the North who had given their influence to the cause began to waver, and the hearts of the most sanguine were despondent.
For a long time the siege of Vicksburg had been going on without any favorable results. Millions of dollars had been expended, and a great many lives lost, but no positive gain had been realized. Indeed, the Confederates had been generally winners on the Mississippi River and its approaches.
They had a strong hold at Port Hudson, three hundred miles below Vicksburg and sixteen miles above Baton Rouge, which had long proved itself too much for all the fleets of abolition gun-boats. About this time the "Indianola" and the "Queen of the West" fell into the hands of the Confederates.
On the 15th of March,1863, a desperate effort was made to take this place. An immense fleet of gun-boats, under the command of Admiral Farragut, was moved against it, and after a terrible fight, Port Hudson was still the Sebastopol of the Mississippi. The Federal fleet was forced back terribly shattered, torn and exploded.
A gloomy malice settled upon the faces of the abolitionists. All things appeared to go wrong. Among the other things which they had looked for before this, was a general uprising of the negroes to murder their masters and mistresses. But the negroes had shown a decided leaning against the abolitionists. The following specimen of darkey lingo is reported, and is a fair specimen of the general temper of the negroes, before the abolitionists had corrupted them.
There was a very old gray-haired cook in an Alabama regiment,who would follow his young master to the war, and had the reputation of a saint among the negro boys of the brigade; and as he could read the Bible, and was given to preaching, he invariably assembled the darkies on Sunday afternoon, and held meetings in the woods. He used to lecture them unmercifully, but could not keep them from singing and dancing after "tattoo." Uncle Pompey, as he was called, was an excellent servant, and an admirable cook, and went on from day to day singing hymns among his pots round the camp-fire, until a battle opened. When the regiment moved up to the front and was engaged, Uncle Pompey, contrary to orders, persisted in going also. One day he was met by another darkey, who asked:
"Whar's you gwine, Uncle Pomp? You isn't gwine up dar to have all de har scorched off yer head, is you?
Uncle Pompey still persisted in advancing, and , shouldering a rifle, soon overtook his regiment.
"De Lor' hab mercy on us all,boys! here dey comes agin! take car, massa, and hole your rifle square, as I showed you in the swamp! Dar it is," he exclaimed, as the Yankees fired an overshot, "just as I taught! Can't shoot worth a bad five-cent piece."
"Now's de time, boys! and as the Alabamians returned a withering volley and closed up with the enemy, charging them furiously, Uncle Pompey forgot all about his church, his ministry, and sanctity, and while firing and dodging, as best he could, was heard to shout out:
"Pitch in, white folks, Uncle Pomp's behind yer. Send all de Yankees to the 'ternal flames, whar dar's weeping and gnashing of-sail in Alabamy; stick 'em wid de bayonet, and send all de blue ornary cusses to de state ob eternal fire and brimstone! Push 'em hard, boys!-push 'em hard; and when dey's gone, may de Lor' hab marcy on de last one on 'em! don't spar' none on 'em, for de good Lo'd neber made such as dem, no how you kin fix it; for it am said in de two-eyed chapter of de one-eyed John, somewhar in Collusions, dat-Hurray, boys! dat's you, sure-now you've gob 'em; give'em, goss! show 'em a taste of ole Alabamy!" etc.
The person who saw Uncle Pompey during this scene was wounded and sat behind a tree, but said, although his hurt was extremely painful, the eloquence, rage, and impetuosity of Pomp, as he loaded and fired rapidly, was so ludicrous, being an incoherent jumble of oaths, snatches of Scripture, and prayers, that the tears ran down his cheeks, and he burst out into a roar of laughter.
Such a state of feeling as this among the negroes was certainly most discouraging to those who impatiently expected to see them cutting the throats of Southern women and children.
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