Civil Defense and the Confederacy

   Mention Civil Defense (Cold War) or Civilian Defense (World War II), and we get pictures of Air Raid Wardens, the Aircraft Warning Service, blackouts, Victory Gardens, and scrap drives. The Office of Civilian Defense was established by Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt on May 20, 1941, an effort to coordinate federal and state responses in regard to protecting civilians and mobilizing them for what became World War II. The program was terminated on June 4, 1945. In 1950, another movement began, this time labeled as Civil Defense, an attempt to try and prepare people in the advent of nuclear war. Many programs under Civilian Defense and Civil War defense were the same.

   Someone recently asked if there was a correlation between what the United States government was doing in the 1940s and 1960s and the Confederate government. Like most historical questions, the answer is no, and yes.

In the Hospital, 1861, by William L. Sheppard.

   Nationally, there was no one in charge of any type of program in the Southern Confederacy. (Really no program like this in the Northern states, either.) Civilian Defense during World War II was run by the governors in various states, who appointed county-level boards and committees. However, in most cases in the South, people in various communities set up what might be termed “civilian defense” on the local level. 

Ladies Aid Societies – at the outset of the war, various Ladies Aid Societies were set up to provide clothing and other necessities for soldiers. Just about every community had these organizations. The Greenville Ladies Association (South Carolina) held their first meeting on July 19, 1861.Their purpose was “to relieve the sick and wounded among soldiers, by forwarding to them linen, underclothing, cordials, bed ticks, socks, etc. Secondly, to make winter clothing for the volunteers of the Confederate Army.”[1] These aid societies were not just confined to large areas. Smaller counties likewise set up Aid Societies with the same goals. In the foothills of western North Carolina, the ladies of Caldwell County likewise formed an aid society in September 1861. They often collected necessities for the soldiers. This included normal things, like socks, shirts, drawers, coats, quilts and comforters, as well as the more unique, like three dozen candles, four bottles of lemon syrup, half a dozen cups and saucers, thirty copies of the New Testaments, and roots like slippery-elm, sage, pepper, mustard, flax-seed, hops, etc.[2] Women will continue to make and donate clothing throughout the war, but many of the uniforms were manufactured via contract or “piece” work. A depot would provide the materials, already cut out, and the ladies would take them home and sew them, returning the finished articles to the depot and being paid by the piece they completed. Sewing, especially during the Great Depression and in the days of the Works Progress Administration, often under the auspices of the Red Cross, was a major producer of locally made clothing and mattresses. Women mailed packages to their loved ones overseas, and took on jobs, making uniforms in factories.

War effort – during War World II, families were encouraged to save by-products from the kitchen, namely grease from cooking bacon, which could be used in manufacturing explosives (glycerin). The government went as far as to set up the American Fat Salvage Committee. During the 1860s, it was not so much bacon grease that was collected, but nitre for making gunpowder. The Nitre Bureau in Richmond ran an advertisement in a newspaper in 1864, asking the public for dead animals.[3] John Haralson famously posted in a newspaper in Selma in July 1863: “The ladies of Selma are respectfully requested to preserve the chamber lye collected about their premises for the purpose of making nitre. A barrel will be sent around daily to collect it."[4]

Hospitals were a kind of novelty at the start of the 1860s. They existed, but they were usually for the poor. Doctors usually made visits to patients in homes. With the excess of patients that the war produced, both those wounded and those who were sick with one of the many camp diseases, hospitals sprang up all over the place. Due to the number of soldiers passing through Charlotte in mid-1862 via the railroad, local ladies stepped up and established a hospital association. They acquired the wash house of the North Carolina Military Institute. The names of the ladies on duty were published in the local newspaper, while two other volunteers visited the homes of the Hospital Association volunteers to collect supplies – food and bandages – to staff the hospitals. The Confederate government later took charge of the hospital, but the ladies continued to volunteer. This was repeated across the South.[5] During World War I and World War II, the Red Cross employed “Grey Ladies,” volunteers who wrote letters, read, and provided other services to disabled soldiers. There were many medical volunteers in Civilian Defense during World War II, beyond the Red Cross, including doctors, nurses, and nurses aids.

Different Civilian Defense jobs,

Ambulance Drivers – along the same lines as those who ministered in hospitals were ambulance drivers. The Richmond Ambulance Corps was established in 1862. This group met the trains bearing wounded at the depot in Richmond, conveying them to various hospitals, and later the receiving hospital, for medical care.[6] During World War II, there were volunteer messengers recruited into Civilian Defense.

Scrap Drives – Outside of Rosie the Riveter, the most iconic image of the United States home front during World War II was of the scrap drives. School children and scout troops collected thousands of pounds of scrap in the way of old iron, tires, records, and paper to be turned into munitions for the war effort. Likewise, there were collections of scraps across the South during the war years. S.D. Rodifer advertised in February 1862 that he was paying the “highest price in Cash” for “Wrought Scrap,” brought to his shop in Selma, Alabama.[7] William L. Brown, in charge of the Confederate States Arsenal in Richmond, advertised in June 1863 that he was looking for “Scrap iron and Lead, Wrought iron and scrap lead.”[8]

Chaplains – one of the volunteer roles for Civilian Defense was that of chaplain, although the role is not clearly defined. During the 1860s, pastors of churches visited local hospitals, worked on collecting foodstuffs and clothing, forwarding the items to the front and at times taking the items to the front themselves. Several churches and denominations sent missionaries and colporteurs to the front with tracts and Bibles.

While not called Civilian Defense during the 1860s, the ideas were certainly woven into the fabric of Southern society.

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[1] C.M. Landrum, Minutes of the Proceedings of the Greenville Ladies’ Association in Aid to the Volunteers of the Confederate Army, 1861-1865, James W. Patton, ed., New York, 1937, 15.

[2] Semi-Weekly Standard, November 13, 1861.

[3] Richmond Dispatch, March 23, 1864.

[4] If you have an actual citation for this oft repeated quote, please drop me a line.

[5] Hardy, Civil War Charlotte, 34-35.

[6] Ash, Rebel Richmond, 14.

[7] The Daily Selma Reporter, February 10, 1862.

[8] Daily Richmond Whig, June 25, 1863.

The French Lady and the Lincoln Assassination

    We don’t discuss much about Lincoln here on Looking for the Confederate War, really only once that I can recall, and it was on Lewis Powell, alias Payne. I had a chance to visit his grave, or at least one of his graves, back in 2021. (You can read more here.)

   A few days ago, I was reading a little book by George Raynor entitled Rebels and Yankees in Rowan County (North Carolina). Raynor has a chapter on Sarah Antionette “Nettie” Gilbert Slater, also known as the French Woman or the Veiled Lady. Raynor believes that Slater once lived in Rowan County, North Carolina. He also believes that she was a Confederate courier and spy in 1865.

Godey's Fashion Prints from the 1860s

   She was born January 12, 1843, in Middleton, Connecticut. Her father, Joseph Gilbert, was a French teacher and made pills. Parts of the family, including Nettie, moved to Kinston, North Carolina, ca. 1858, and then to New Bern, where she met Rowan Slater. He had studied music at Trinity College, then worked as a traveling musician and dance instructor. New Bern was a little more welcoming of his talents than Salisbury. They were married in New Bern in June 1861.[1]

   Slater worked as a purchasing agent for the Confederate government in Goldsboro. In 1863, the moved to Salisbury, settling on the family farm. On July 23, 1864, he enlisted in Company A, 20^th North Carolina Troops. He is listed as present or accounted for until he was captured on April 6, 1865, in the vicinity of Farmville, Virginia. Slater was confined in Newport News, Virginia, until he took the Oath of Allegiance and was released on June 26, 1865.[2]

   For some reason, Nettie decided to head north in January 1865. Raynor speculates that it was to visit her mother who was still living in New York City. She approached Burgess S. Gaither and James G. Ramsey, two North Carolina Confederate Congressmen, for a pass between the lines. They wrote Maj. J.H. Corrington, Confederate provost marshal, recommending a pass. “She has lost her only brother in the Confederate Army and we have no hesitation in vouching for the loyalty of this lady and her high social position and hope she will meet with no difficulty in passing the lines of our army.”[3] Secretary of War Seddon endorsed the request.

   What happened next is not really clear, but Nettie was recruited into the Confederate spy network. She was chosen to deliver messages to Montreal. She spoke French perfectly and could claim French citizenship. Raynor lays out a quick timeline. She made her appeal to go to New York on January 16, and was on her way to Montreal on January 31. Nettie was taking documents to support the claims that the St. Albans raiders were acting under orders. She was escorted by another Confederate agent, August “Gus” Howell. On her return trip, also bearing information, she met John H. Surratt, Jr. in New York, and he accompted her to Washinton, D.C., and the Surratt boarding house. Howell then went with her to Richmond.[4]

   More documents were needed by Confederate agents in Canada, and Nettie was back in Montreal on March 17, making the trip back through New York and Washington to the Surratt boarding  house. From there, they traveled to the Surratt Tavern. Federals had raided the tavern the night before, arresting Howell. John Surratt and Nettie crossed the Potomac River and then headed to Richmond. David Berry ferried them across the river. When Federal authorities questioned Berry, he described Nettie, who was using the alias of “Mrs. Brown,” as “a rather thin delicate woman. I think she had black eyes and dark hair. I do not recollect whether I saw her with her bonnet off. I think she wore her veil down all the time.” (Raynor, Rebels and Yankees, 15.)

   In Richmond she met with state department and treasure department officials who asked her to go to Montreal a third time. She and Surrat returned to Washington and on April 4, set out again. Just what takes place over the next few days is unclear. Lincoln was assassinated on April 14, 1865. Several individuals were arrested, including Mary Surratt, John’s mother. She and three others were quickly tried, found guilty of being accomplices to John Wilkes Both, and were executed. John Surratt fled to Canada. Or, maybe he was already there.

   Raynor wrote that he was unaware of what happened to Nettie. She simply disappeared from history. Yet we do have more of the story. Nettie was arrested on April 30, 1865, and interrogated by a Colonel Ingram. Several witnesses swore that she was a Confederate agent known as the “French woman,” and a major link between the Confederates in Richmond and those in Montreal. Nettie was released.[5]

   For some writers, Nettie’s involvement was more serious. Michael Schein believes that John Surratt and Nettie were lovers, and that she had many aliases, including Kate Brown, Kate Thompson, and A. Reynaud. He also believes that if there was an order coming from Richmond for authorizing the assassination of Lincoln, it was carried by Slater and Surratt. (This has never been proven.)[6] Schein writes that Surratt, using an alias, and Nettie checked in to the St. Lawrence Hall in Montreal on January 10, 1865, at least three weeks before her first trip. Of course, the Mr. T.H. Hendrickson and Miss Slater that registered could be anyone. And why would he use an alias and she wouldn’t? The entire letter by the two Confederate congressmen was just a ruse, Schein claims.[7] Schein’s account seems full of “maybes” that rely on a lot of guesses and circumstantial evidence. He further speculates that Nellie fled with Surratt to Canada after Lincoln’s death. He had taken a round-about trip to rescue his “beautiful young co-conspirator with whom he is in love.”[8] Schein goes on, believing that Nettie left Surratt in late August 1865, returning to New York City.[9] Back in North Carolina, Rowan Slater files for divorce, which is granted on November 19, 1866. He believes that Nettie is dead. According to Schein, Nettie marries William Spenser, her sister’s widower, who also passes. Nettie, according to Schein, lives under the alias of “Sarah A. Long” in New York, passing away on April 20, 1920. “The Government never caught up with her. Whatever her crimes, they died with her,” Schein concludes.[10]

   One of Schein’s sources is an article by James O. Hall that appeared in North and South in August 2000. Hall claims that “Federal detectives sought to find an elusive young Confederate agent they knew only as ‘Mrs. Slater,’ sometimes referred to as ‘the French woman’ or  ‘the lady in the veil.’ The deceives never found her. It was not for lack of trying.” Chamlee, in his book Lincoln’s Assassins, actually cites records from the adjutant general’s office stating she was arrested, interrogated, and released – Records of the Judge Advocate General’s office, Roll 2, Nos. 766-784, National Archives. Hall concludes that Nettie disappeared from the pages of history following the war.[11]

   A lifetime could be spent on the mysterious life of Sarah Antionette “Nettie” Gibert Slater, centered around the last four months of the war. There are primary sources to explore, like those cited by Chamlee, and fanciful writings to debunk, like those of Schein. A good scholarly book on Confederate spies and the secret service as a whole is also needed. I confess that I do not have the books by Ted Boyias, Harold W. Mills, Jr., or Charles Rivers. I do have Tidwell’s Come Retribution: The Confederate Secret Service and the Assassination of Lincoln. Like Schein, there is too much “But it is not hard to draw a logical conclusion” speculation. Tidwell uses this phrase in describing the January 1865 trip of Surratt to Richmond.[12]

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[1] Raynor, Rebels and Yankees, 10-12.

[2] Jordan and Manarin, North Carolina Troops, 6:444.

[3] Raynor, Rebels and Yankees, 13.

[4] Raynor, Rebels and Yankees, 14.

[5] Chamlee, Lincoln’s Assassins, 198.

[6] Schein, John Surratt, 65.

[7] Schein, John Surratt, 66.

[8] Schein, John Surratt, 150.

[9] Schein, John Surratt, 180.

[10] Schein, John Surratt, 181.

[11] Hall, “The Veiled Lady” North and South, (August 2000), 34-44.

[12] Tidwell, Come Retribution, 341.

What Happened to the Food Sent to Amelia Court House?

   It is a fairly well known story about the war. In 1865, Robert E. Lee asked that rations for his army be sent to Amelia Court House. After being forced from the trenches protecting Richmond and Petersburg, Lee found not rations awaiting him, but ammunition.

   Writing in 1875, just ten years after the events, George C. Eggleston recalled an interesting turn of events concerning those provisions. Born in Indiana, Eggleston was living in Amelia County when the war began and joined Lamkin’s Battery on May 9, 1861, serving as a first sergeant and then as sergeant major. At the battle of Pocotaligo, South Carolina, in October 1862, Eggleston was wounded by “concussion of shell.”[1] Lamkin’s Battery, Virginia Light Artillery, saw service in the Department of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida, until returning to Virginia in October 1863. The rest of their service was connected to the Army of Northern Virginia.

Marker in Amelia (HMdg.org)

   Eggleston accompanied his battery on at least part of the retreat toward Appomattox Court House, although it appears he was not present for the surrender, coming in for his parole at Burkeville on April 21, 1865. Eggleston had a great deal to say about food and rations in a chapter entitled “Red Tape” in his 1875 memoir. Concerning the waiting train of provisions at Amelia Court House, Eggleston wrote:

   When the evacuation of Richmond was begun, a train load of provisions was sent by General Lee’s order from one of the interior depots to Amelia Court House, for the use of the retreating army, which was without food and must march to that point before it could receive a supply. But the president and his followers were in haste to leave the capital and needed the train, wherefore it was not allowed to remain long enough to be unloaded, but was hurried on to Richmond, where its cargo was thrown out to facilitate the flight of the president and his personal followers, while the starving army was left to suffer in an utterly exhausted country, with no source of supply anywhere within its reach.”[2]

   While Lee had been warning those in Richmond that his ability to defend the entrenchments was nearing its end, the breakthrough on April 2, 1865, caught many by surprise. J.H. Averill wrote after the war that he was serving as trainmaster for the Richmond and Danville Railroad at the time. His first telegraph note on April 2 was to hold all trains at Danville. Averill asked for clarification but got no response. He believed that raiders might have cut the line between Burkeville and the Staunton River. The next message over the wire was: “Come to Richmond with all engines and empty passenger and box-cars you can pick up. Bring no freight or passengers.” Averill readied the four engineers and whatever rolling stock he could find. Asking for further instructions, he was told “Too late. Richmond is being evacuated. We will all leave this P.M. Arrange for all track room possible in Danville.” Averill also wrote that in Danville “were large government storehouses…all filled to the ceiling, as well as many loaded cars, awaiting shipment.”[3] It is interesting to note that the telegram told Averill to bring “all engines and empty passenger and box-cars you can pick up.” Since the rations would have been in between Danville and Amelia, they certainly would have fallen under the “all you can pick up” order.

   There appears to be an even older version of this story. Writing in 1866, James D. McCabe, Jr., wrote that the “the trains which had been sent from Danville [to Lee at Appomattox] had been ordered to Richmond to help carry off government property, and that, through inexcusable blundering of the Richmond authorities, the cars had been sent on to the Capital without unloading at the stores at Amelia Courthouse.”[4]

   Lee went as far as to say in his final report to Davis in April 1865 that “Not finding the supplies ordered to be placed there [Amelia] twenty-four hours were lost.” The same was repeated on April 4, when Lee sent his appeal to “the Citizens of Amelia County, Va.” The army had arrived at Amelia Court House “expecting to find plenty of provisions, which had been ordered to be placed here by the railroad several days since…”[5]

   These reports obviously rankled Jefferson Davis in the postwar years. In July 1873, Isaac M. St. John, who had replaced the inept Lucius Northrop as commissary general in the last months of the war, wrote Davis on the resources of the Confederacy. St. John could recall or find “No calls by letter or requisition from the General Commanding [Lee], or from any other source, official or unofficial, had been received, either by the Commissary General or the Assistant Commissary General; nor…was any communication transmitted through the Department channels to the Bureau of Substance—for the collection of supplies at Amelia Courthouse. Had any such requisition or communication been received at the Bureau as late as the morning of April 1^st, it could have been met from the Richmond reserve.”[6]

   Eggleston certainly remembered seeing the discarded rations or hearing this story, as did McCabe. Based upon his appeal to the farmers in Amelia County, and his final report to Davis, Lee expected rations to be waiting for his army in Amelia Court House when he arrived on April 4. Would the rations and the lost twenty-hours have made a difference in Lee’s ability to outpace the Federal army? Maybe the    war might have lasted a little longer.

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[1] George C. Eggleton, CMSR, Roll 0318, M324, RG109. NA.

[2] Eggleston, A Rebel’s Recollections, 228.

[3] SHSP, 25:267-9. Originally in the Nashville Banner.

[4] quoted in Freeman, R.E. Lee, 4:509.

[5] Confederate Veteran, 7:233.

[6] SHSP 3:101-2.

Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and biographer Frank Alfriend

   Recently, on one of the online auction sites, a letter from Robert E. Lee to Jefferson Davis was listed. Lee, writing on April 2, 1868, thanks Davis for a copy of Frank H. Alfriend’s The Life of Jefferson Davis. Born in Richmond in January 1841, Alfriend was a graduate of William and Mary College and taught school in Richmond during at least part of the war.[1] By early 1863, he was writing for the Southern Literary Messenger, publishing a piece entitled “The Great Danger of the Confederacy.”[2] In December 1863, it was announced that Alfriend was now the editor of the publication.[3]

Lee to Davis letter on eBay in 2026.

   Alfriend continued writing after the war, becoming a contributor to the Raleigh-based Field and Fireside.[4] Some of his pieces were biographical in nature, such as a piece on Italian revolutionary Garibaldi.[5] All the while, Alfriend was working on a biography of Jefferson Davis. The Biblical Recorder reported in January 1868 that Alfriend, “an attractive writer,” was working on as biography of Jefferson Davis. “The time for that book has not yet arrived, but we feel sure that Mr. Alfriend will execute the work in a manner fully equal to the expectations of his numerous admirers.”[6]

   Alfriend’s book was not the first. Alfred Taylor Bledso released Is Davis a Traitor, or was Secession a Constitutional Right Previous to 1861 in 1866.

   Alfriend reached out to Davis on July 22, 1867, about the biography. Davis confessed that he had “always been very reluctant to give an account of my own deeds.” Sketches that had been released to date were “very defective and often erroneous.” Davis then writes about his time in the U.S. Senate, the Missouri Compromise, working with President Buchanan, and the Crittenden Compromise. Concerning treason, with which Davis was being charged, he wrote “The first congress of the Confederation defined treason, and there was unmistakably declared the doctrine to which the founders of the Union steadily adhered, the paramount allegiance of the citizen to his state. The departure from that creed has been the source of all our ills.” Davis confessed that he had “no books to which to refer and write from memory entirely.”[7] Davis wrote in 1888 that he had only this one “conversation” with Alfriend prior to the publication of the biography.[8]

   The Life of Jefferson Davis was released by the National Publishing Company in March 1868. It was not widely available, and readers needed to subscribe to obtain a copy. The Cincinnati Commercial considered it possibly the best book on the life of Davis, but noted Alfriend’s confession that he was writing from a Southern viewpoint. Despite this bias, the Ohio newspaper believed Alfriend’s work “will excite a lively interest and have a permanent historic value. . . All in all, this volume is the most valuable contribution yet made to the history of the war by any Southern author.”[9] While some praised Alfriend’s biography, it did not meet the approval of everyone. In the December 1868 issue of D.H. Hill’s The Land We Love came a scathing review. “We regard this book as a great misfortune to Mr. Davis,” wrote the editor. “This is much of real value in this book, and it is to be regretted that Mr. Frank H. Alfriend did not confine himself to matters he understood. His military criticisms are not worth a button.”[10]

   Obviously, Davis either asked Alfriend to send a copy of the book to Lee, or Alfriend took it upon himself to send a copy to Lee. On April 2, Lee wrote to Davis: “I am very much obliged to you for the copy of your “Life of Jefferson Davis” which you have kindly sent me. I will take pleasure in its perusal.” Did Davis actually mail the book to Lee? Probably not. Writing to Alfriend in April 1871, Davis confessed that he had “not seen your biography of myself and have failed in my efforts to get a copy.”[11]

   Alfriend continued to work for various newspapers, including the Wilmington Star, the Louisville Courier-Journal, and the Atlanta Constitution. While in Atlanta, he befriended John B. Gordon. When Gordon went to Washington, D.C., as a senator, he got Alfriend a job as an assistant librarian. Alfriend was working on a revised biography on Davis when he died on May 3, 1887. He is buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond.[12]

      While this letter has recently come to light, does Lee’s copy of The Life of Jefferson Davis survive?

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[1] Richmond Dispatch, August 26, 1862, September 24, 1863, September 12, 1864.

[2] Staunton Spectator, February 3, 1863.

[3] Richmond Dispatch, December 30, 1863.

[4] Field and Fireside, January 6, 1866.

[5] The Field and Fireside, July 28, 1866.

[6] The Biblical Recorder, January 22, 1868.

[7] The Papers of Jefferson Davis, 12:239-43.

[8] Ibid, 12:244n20.

[9] quoted in the Clarion-Ledger, March 7, 1868.

[10] Book Notes. The Land We Love (December 1868): 179-181.

[11] The Papers of Jefferson Davis, 13:20-21.

[12] The Papers of Jefferson Davis, 12:243.

The 7th Florida Takes Prisoners to Richmond

   Several times in the past, I have written about prisons, concentrating on prison guards (here) and moving prisoners across the South (here). Captain Robert B. Smith, Company K, 7^th Florida Infantry, was in charge of a group of guards and prisoners following the battle of Murfreesboro. He recorded his story in 1914.

   “In the winter of 1863, after the battle of… [Murfreesboro]… all of the non-commissioned officers and privates who were captured at that time were sent to Richmond, Va. There were 3,300 of them.

Bristol, TN/VA in 1857

   At Knoxville, Tenn., our regiment, the 7^th Fla., was detailed to guard them as far as Bristol, on the line of the Virginia and Tennessee [Railroad]. Nothing of any particular interest happened until we reached the Watauga River. There was a very high bridge over that river, and a raiding party of Federals from Cumberland Gap had burned the bridge, and the cars could proceed no father.

   We had to march from there to Bristol, a distance of 12 or 14 miles . . . When we reached Bristol I went to the commander, Maj. Keys, and roused him out of bed and told him who I was and what I had for him. He was taken completely by surprise and did not know what to do with the prisoners. Some one, however, must have notified the railroad authorities, for there were two trains of box cars to take us on to Richmond.

   Major Keys had no one to send along as a guard, for his men were off on a scout and would not be back for two days, or more. He wanted me to go on with my regiment, but I could not, for my orders were to carry the prisoners to Bristol and return.

   I told Maj. Keys I did not think a guard was necessary—that he could take them himself. He asked me if I would be willing to go with them without a guard. I told him I would be glad to.

   Arrangements were soon made. The 7^th Fla. Was sent back under command of a subordinate officer, and the 3,300 Federal prisoners and I boarded the cars and were soon ‘on to Richmond.’”

   At Wytheville, Va., the trains stopped a long time, and the men, being hungry, swarmed off the cars to beg or buy something to eat. I could not blame them. The Mayor or Marshall wanted to know why I didn’t keep them on the cars.

   I could not help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation—one man guarding 3,300! However, I told him, “All right,” and went the entire length of the two trains and gave the orders that ‘no one was to leave the cars.’ Strange as it may seem, that order was obeyed just as if they had been my own men.

   One man died on the way and was put off at a station and the trains moved on. I never knew what [was] the cause of his death. When we got to Lynchburg it was early morning of the second day from Bristol. There I reported to Col. Lyons, the commandant. He wanted me to go on to Richmond, but I said: ‘No; I cannot, for some of those men have been without food for three days and are suffering.’

   He said: They have no formation and you cannot give them rations. It will be a ‘grab game’ just as it was at Knoxville, Tenn., where you last rationed them.’

   That seemed very reasonable, but a happy inspiration came to me at that moment, and I told him I could issue the rations to every man, and would assume the whole responsibility. All I asked was two hours’ time. He agreed to my proposition and issued orders for 3,000 rations. The railyard where the cars with the prisoners were was an ideal place for my experiment. Very many citizens were attracted there, curious to see and to hear.

   I mounted a box car and announced that I was going to give them rations and I wanted their help. They assured me mostly heartily that I should have it. Joy beamed in their faces and added speed to their feet and sharpness to their wits. I told them in a few words what I wanted done and began calling them by states.

   “Maine troops, fall in on the extreme right; New Hampshire troops, fall in next, Western and Northern states. After naming every state from Maine to California, there were several hundred men left. I called out to them, “Where do you belong?”

   Some one yelled out, “Call the Southern states.”

   I had not thought of that, so I called, “North Carolina troops, fall in!” Quite a good many moved to the right, and then, “South Carolina troops, fall in!” and sure enough there were some from South Carolina. The citizens began to guy them unmercifully, and when I gave the command, “Tennessee troops, fall in! it seemed that there were a hundred or more. The citizens did not guy them so much. But when I called Virginia I thought the citizens would come over the fence after them.

   Soon all were in two ranks, and I had the orderlies to step two paces to the front. Out of these orderly-sergeants, I selected 65 captains for 50 men each, and instructed them to write down the names of their men and then go with a detail of our men to draw rations.

   They were warned that if any man of their company was cheated out of his rations the captain and his four men would have to supply him with a ration, even if they went without.

   There was no complaint. That evening we loaded cars quickly, using our same formations, and proceeded on to Richmond, where we arrived at 7 o’clock the next morning. The railroad authorities were afraid to take us over the James River on their bridge neither would they permit us all to cross at the same time. We still had our company formation and could easily manage that order by sending a few companies at a time.

   Soon we were over in the city. Many people were in evidence as spectators, but they were civil and good-natured. Just to have a little amusement, as we were marching in the middle of the street towards Libbey prison, I gave the order, “By companies, right wheel into line, march!” This order was promptly obeyed, and we marched by company front until we reached Libbey Prison, where I took my leave of these jolly prisoners.”[1]

   This is quite a remarkable tale: one officer, escorting 3,000 prisoners through Tennessee and Virginia. Is there any chance of proving this post-war account? First, there is not a published history of the 7^th Florida Infantry (that I can find). The 7^th Florida was organized in April 1862 in Gainesville, Florida. They were assigned to the Army of Tennessee.[2] They are not listed in the order of battle for Murfreesboro. They were a part of Bragg’s army when it invaded Kentucky, and, in February 1863, were doing garrison duty at Cumberland Gap. They were reported in Knoxville from February 1863, through Saunder’s Raid in June 1863. So they are in the right place at the right time. (Many of the Florida Compiled Military Service Records are very difficult to read.)[3] Maybe the 7^th Florida was serving as provost marshal in Knoxville. An article detailing the movements of the 19^th Georgia Battalion notes on January 5, 1863, that when author’s battalion arrived in Knoxville, “we reported to Capt. A.S. Moseley, 7^th Regiment Florida Volunteers, who is an able and efficient officer.”[4]

   There is an interesting piece in the file of Capt. Robert B. Smith dated March 25, 1864, to the Quarter Master regarding other matters. And then there is this: “Also awaiting receipts from the Qu. Master for tents & cooking utensils turned over at Knoxville Tenn when we were ordered to Virginia.”[5]

   Were prisoners from Murfreesboro sent to Richmond? On January 13, 1863, the Daily Richmond Whig reported that 168 Federal captured at Murfreesboro were in Lynchburg, with another 800 more expected to arrive that night.[6] An Abington newspaper reported a few days later that “For several days past, the trains going eastward have been loaded down with prisoners from Murfreesboro, en route for Richmond.”[7] At least some of the Federal prisoners captured at Murfreesboro were sent to Richmond. Is there any record of Smith’s prisoners’ marching in company front formation through the streets toward Libby Prison? Not that I have found so far.

   Maybe some a good book on the 7^th Florida would prove what seems like a tall tale. Or, maybe one of those Federal prisoners captured at Murfreesboro wrote about the event after the fact. It seems that most of the Murfreesboro prisoners were paroled rather quickly.

  

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[1] Robert B. Smith, “3,300 Federal Prisoners and I.” Civil War Times Illustrated, December 1975, 41-43.

[2] Crute, Units of the Confederate States Army, 77.

[3] CMSR, Record of events, 7^th Florida Infantry, Roll 0076, M251, RG109.

[4] The Macon Telegraph, January 9, 1863.

[5] Robert Smith, CMSR, Roll 0079, M251, RG109.

[6] Daily Richmond Whig, January 13, 1863.

[7] The Abington Virginia, January 16, 1863.