Cyrus I. Scofield, Tennessee Confederate Soldier and Bible Scholar

    Lenawee County, Michigan, might seem like a strange place for a Confederate soldier to be born. Cyrus Ingerson Scofield first saw the light of day there on August 19, 1843. His father was a millwright, and his mother died several months after his birth. Cyrus was an avid reader growing up. When his stepmother passed in 1859, Cyrus headed to Wilson County, Tennessee, where his sister and brother-in-law lived. He later claimed that he was getting ready to take the examinations to enter the university when the war came, although which university he planned to enter is not clear.[1]

   At the age of seventeen, Scofield enlisted in what became Company H, 7^th Tennessee Infantry. On May 20, 1861, he was mustered in as a private in Nashville. One biographical sketch stated that he served as an orderly. After completing organization at Camp Trousdale, the 7^th Tennessee transferred to Virginia. They participated in the Cheat Mountain Campaign and were later assigned to James J. Archer’s brigade. Scofield probably saw fighting through the Seven Days Campaign, Cedar Mountain, Second Manassas, Harpers Ferry, and Sharpsburg. Scofield was reported sick and in Chimborazo Hospital from April 8 to May 1, 1862.[2] 

Flag of the 7th TN

   Scofield wrote the Secretary of War on July 8, 1862, stating that he was a native of Michigan where his father still lived, and that when he entered the service, he was a minor. Scofield wrote that his “health was never good [and] is broken by exposure and fatigue in the recent series of engagements with the Enemy before Richmond . . . I have fought in three battles for the South and have no intention of deserting her cause but after a short time to enter Guerilla service in East Tenn.”[3] It was the recommendation by his company commander that Scofield be discharged on September 26, 1862. Scofield had volunteered to serve one year, a time that had already elapsed. And, he was not “a citizen of the Confederate States but an Alien friend.” With discharge in hand, Scofield returned to Tennessee.[4]

   Scofield told a later biographer that he was then drafted back into the Southern army on an unknown date and was ordered to report to a Camp of Instruction at McMinnville. “I started on foot with the intention of effecting my escape to the federal lines which I succeeded in doing after marching 75 miles to Bowling Green Ky. I reported myself to the authorities took the oath of allegiance and passed on to St. Louis to my friends here.” Scofield sought out a parole from the Federal provost marshal, stating that he was a “loyal citizen of the U.S. which I have always been notwithstanding the untoward circumstances in which I have been placed during this rebellion and the false position I have found myself against my inclination occupying until my recent escape from Tennessee.” Scofield remained in St. Louis, working as a clerk. There is no record that he ever served in the Federal army.[5] 

Later life image of Scofield.

   In 1866, Scofield married and studied law, then worked in the St. Louis assessor’s office. He then moved to Kansas, serving in the state house, and was appointed a US District attorney. Sometime in the 1870s, Scofield became a Christian. By the fall of 1879, he was helping with an evangelistic campaign conducted by Dwight L. Moody. Moody had worked at the Confederate prison in Chicago during the war. (This is the same Moody as in the Moody Bible Institute.) In 1883, Scofield was ordained as a Congregationalist minister, pastoring churches over the next forty years. His lasting contribution is what is now called the Scofield Reference Bible, published by Oxford University Press in 1909. While not the first Bible with notes (the Geneva Bible, published in 1551, had study notes or annotations), Scofield’s Reference Bible was one of the most popular of the 20^th century. It is unlikely that many shoppers at the Christian bookstore who see his work on the shelf, or even those who own a copy of the Scofield Reference Bible, know the fascinating and convoluted wartime journey of its editor.

  

 

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[1]  Canfield, The Incredible Scofield, 10, 12,13; Trumball, The Life Story of C.I. Scofield, 7.

[2] Cyrus J. Scofield, CMSR, Roll 148, M268, RG109.

[3] Canfield, The Incredible Scofield, 17-18.

[4] Cyrus J. Scofield, CMSR, Roll 148, M268, RG109.

[5] Rushing, “From Confederate Deserter to Decorated Veteran Bible Scholar,” 24-26.

Confederate Soldiers, Christmas, and Eggnog.

   Eggnog. That beverage associated with Christmas cheer. You either love it, or you hate it. While it is unrealistic to say that it met with universal acclaim throughout the Old South, eggnog was enjoyed by many and seen as a required treat during the holidays. When the sons of the South joined the army, they brought the tradition of eggnog with them.

   So, what is eggnog? The basis is eggs, some type of whiskey (bourbon, brandy, rum), sugar, and milk or cream. One recipe from King George County, Virginia, goes like this: “beat 12 eggs separately, add to the yokes 1 heaping tablespoon full of sugar to every egg, beating all the time.” When very light stir rapidly in 1 pint of brandy and 1 pint of whiskey… Now stir in half of the well beaten whites, then 3 pints of rich cream or 1 pint of milk and 2 of cream, then stir in lightly the remaining whites. A little nutmeg grated is an improvement. Be careful never to add liquor after cream.”[1]

   That first winter of the war found the Southern forces mostly well provisioned, but not as much as they wanted. A member of the 7^th Louisiana Infantry, writing from Camp Carondelet in Virginia, told his mother that Christmas had been dull: “the poor private had to content himself with one drink [of eggnog] around which was given in the morning.” A soldier in the 17^th Mississippi Infantry, also in Virginia, recalled having eggnog, but no ladies to enjoy it with. “Several boys a little tight in camp & some have been sent to the guardhouse.” Various generals often sent out regulations against alcohol in camp. Yet according to a member of the 4^th South Carolina, there were still ways to acquire “the worst kind of ‘rot skull’” at a price. Stationed at Fort Gaines, a soldier in the 21^st Alabama wrote of having two glasses of eggnog before breakfast on December 25. Others undoubtedly followed through the rest of the day. Eggnog first thing in the morning was mentioned by more than one soldier. A member of the 7^th Tennessee Infantry wrote that their captain gifted eggnog on Christmas morning. “One-half of the boys very tight by nine o’clock. Another member of the same regiment wrote that they had so many drunk men, a wagon was employed to haul them around.[2]  

   Christmas 1862 was a different affair. The Army of Tennessee was poised to fight the battle of Murfreesboro, while the Army of Northern Virginia had just fought the battle of Fredericksburg, and watched the Federals, expecting them to pick up the contest soon. But even with tensions high, there was still time for gaiety. A ball was hosted by the 1^st and 2^nd Louisiana in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, in the town hall, attended by many officers. The officers of the 20^th Tennessee gave their men a barrel of whiskey, while in the 154^th Tennessee, “Eggnog was fashionable and Captains, Lieutenants, and Privates was drunk and very troublesome.” Supplies were much harder to come by in Virginia around Fredericksburg. A member of the 5^th Alabama wrote of their sutler arriving, and the mess being able to purchase sugar cakes, ginger bread, candy sugar, Confederate coffee, pepper, and butter. “He was to bring us the materials for an Egg Nog—but he sorely disappointed us in that—about the first Christmas ever spent without nog…” The complaint went even further with a member of the 12^th Virginia: “Christmas [was] the poorest ever spent, no egg nog, no turkey, no mince pie, nothing to eat or drink but our rations. We all talk of home today and wish to be there.” Soldiers stationed away from Fredericksburg were a little better off. Writing from camp near Dumfries, Virginia, a Texas soldier told his wife that “Every mess had its egg-nog or a first-class substitute for it, the first thing in the morning, and something better than common for dinner.”[3]

   Both principal armies were well encamped during Christmas 1863. It had been a hard year, with the death of Stonewall Jackson and Confederate losses at Gettysburg, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga. The Army of Tennessee was north of Atlanta, and the Army of Northern Virginia was in and around Orange Court House. Mentions of eggnog seem to be sparse in the army in Georgia, although there were undoubtedly a few soldiers and officers who were able to enjoy their Christmas concoction. In Virginia, an officer in the 5^th Alabama wrote that he was invited by his colonel “to drink eggnog with him & had a very pleasant time indeed.” Yet a member of JEB Stuart’s staff was disappointed. He had promised his friends a bowl of eggnog, “but the spirits did not arrive-- And consequently I passed a quiet and a sober day in my tent.” The same was almost true for an officer in the 1^st Louisiana, on picket duty near Raccoon Ford on the Rappahannock River. He had concluded that they would be eggnogless for the evening, and had retired to bed, when they heard “horses hoofs on the crisp snow.” They found a camp servant they had sent to Lynchburg with a demijohn. They beat the eggs, stirred in the sugar, and added the whiskey (no mention of milk or cream). “[W] had one of the most delicious noggs that ever mortal man quaffed. Taking a couple of glasses apiece, we retired to bed—to forget the hardships of a soldier’s life, and dream of a joyful reunion with the dear absent ones far away in the Southland.”[4]

   The last winter of the war, 1864, found the wrecked Army of Tennessee in northern Alabama and the Army of Northern Virginia in the trenches around Petersburg and Richmond. A soldier in the 24^th Texas Cavalry, Granburry’s Texas brigade, recalled buying whiskey locally to celebrate the holidays, but made no mention of eggs, cream, or sugar. “[A] wee drop makes an old soldier forget his troubles and hardships for the present” he scribbled in his diary. There was still some eggnog to be had. An officer in the 49^th North Carolina, thanks to the people from back home, had eggnog. A member of Poague’s battalion recalled a fine Christmas dinner that included eggnog. A friend had a friend that operated a blockade runner and “obtained many good things.”[5]

   Christmas was hard on the soldiers in the field, as well as on the families back home. So many of those hearthsides would lose loved ones throughout those four years. While many were undeniably happy to be home for Christmas in 1865, many reflected back on all that had been lost. Slowly, the eggnog, which had accompanied so many Southern Christmas celebrations, eventually faded from the menu.  

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[1] Smith, Famous old Receipts used a hundred years and more in the kitchens of the North and South, 184.

[2] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 40, 43, 46.

[3] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 62, 70, 71; Polley, A Soldier’s Letters to Charming Nellie, 21.

[4] Hubbs, Voices from Company D, 207;  Trout, With Pen & Saber, 218; Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 109.

[5] Rawlings, We Were Marching of Christmas Day, 124; McCaslin, Diary of Captain Henry A. Chambers, 168; Poague, Gunner with Stonewall, 109.