Civil War Campfire Chats

Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.

From Camp-Fire Chats of the Civil War by Washington Davis, 1888.

All the veterans answered at roll-call this evening, as did all the visiting brethren including the S.P.U.H. except the drum corps of the Freedmen's Exodus Society. No one asked any question, not caring even to call to mind the experience of the previous evening.

Mr. John G. Morrison began to speak:

"In the fall of 1863, our Regiment (the 101st Ill.) was transferred from West Tennessee to Bridgeport, Ala., and attached to the 11th Army Corps. Supplies for the army at Chattanooga were at that time carried on mules from Bridgeport by a circuitous route along the north bank of the Tennessee River. To open up a shorter and better route, the 11th and 12th Army Corps, not then reorganized into the 20th, were ordered to march across to Chattanooga.

"On the second day's march a discussion arose in Company D, as to which army then occupied Lookout Mountain. One man stoutly maintained that Rosecrans did not lose at Chickamauga, and to settle the matter, one of D's men broke ranks and ran up to a house, and politely asked a lady who was standing in the door, and trying to feel that she wasn't subdued and never would be, whether there were any Confederates on Lookout Mountain. She replied very tartly that when he came back he might tell her.

"The midnight fight in the valley, the battles of Mission Ridge and Lookout Mountain were soon fought, and after the terrible mid-winter march to the relief of Knoxville, and a rest at Kelley's Ferry, our regiment marched back over the same road through the valley, to Bridgeport. We had all of us forgotten the woman and her evasive answer, except the soldier who questioned her. As we passed the house, he again left the ranks and went up to the house, taking another comrade and half a dozen canteens with him.

"‘Madam,' he said, making his best bow, 'I am going back now, and stopped to tell you that there is not a single Confederate on the mountain.'

“'Clar out!' said the woman.

“'Well, madam, I saw some very nice buttermilk when I was here before, and I thought I would bring my canteen along and have it filled.'

"'Nawsir!' growled the woman. 'I don't never give no Yankee no buttermilk o' mine.'

"'You seem to be decidedly in the negative, madam, but I'll pay you for the milk you'll never have to give a Union soldier any buttermilk.'

"With this assurance, the woman filled the canteens, in high hope that she would get some United States money, for Confederate scrip was already depreciating, notwithstanding the stringent laws in force against a discrimination in favor of United States money.

"'How much are these worth?' asked the soldier, putting the several canteens into his several pockets.

"'Two dollars apiece!' said the woman.

"'Ain't that pretty high?' asked the soldier, fumbling in every pocket he had to find some money.

"'Thought yer said I wouldn't have to give no Union soldier no buttermilk,' said the woman, surmising the true state of affairs.

"'You will not,' said he soldier 'I'll get the money of my comrade just out in the yard,' and he started out; with his hands he beckoned the comrade to go back toward the passing columns, while with his voice he called him toward the house. Of course the comrade was in a hurry to get back to the ranks, and the soldier with the canteens moved on after him with apparent reluctance, leaving the woman standing in her doorway watching her buttermilk disappear over the hill, her great expectation slowly changing into disappointment, and then disgust."

When Mr. Morrison finished speaking Mr. Thain asked if the society would like to be initiated into skirmishing, and the active business life of the line of battle.

"Yes," was the reply, "it may be read with ravenous interest by the two-thousand-one-hundred-and-third generation hence."

"Well, let us take Sherman's Atlanta campaign as the main basis of illustration; for the war was not conducted scientifically, and with absolute certainty of success, until after General Grant was placed in command of all the Union forces, and had arranged a concert of action between the East and the West. There is a completeness about the campaigns of 1864, which renders that year of the conflict an interesting study as illustrating the art of war.

"Sherman's army when he began the Atlanta campaign, was 100,000 strong; Johnston's 60,000 strong, but he had the advantage of a friendly country in his rear, and the additional advantage of a succession of carefully fortified lines in the line of his possible retreat. A large force of negroes was at work all the while in his rear; and when he abandoned one line of works he had another to take shelter in. Sherman's advantage consisted in the fact that he could spare at least 40,000 men to lap around the right or left of Johnston's position, and by threatening his communications compel him to fall back. Every direct attack made by Sherman failed, but the flank movement was always successful, though it had a demoralizing effect on the Confederates, who thereby had to confess their weakness by falling back each time, and finally were shut up in Atlanta.

"Having given this general outline of the way in which the campaign was conducted, let us now suppose that Sherman is beginning to feel one of Johnston's strong positions, for instance, the line including Kenesaw, Pine and Lost Mountains. But this is ticklish work, approaching a strong line in a country which is rough and hilly, and much of it heavily timbered. The enemy may sally out on us while we are forming our line, or before our front is protected by earthworks. Yet the Union soldiers are mighty diggers, and if the Johnnies as much as stop to tie their shoe strings before starting, they will find a line of works barring their advance, raised as if by magic. On the Atlanta campaign, the spade was mightier than the sword. Our men did not need to be urged to fortify; the enemy's shell urged them in language which needed no interpretation. As soon as a line was formed, and arms stacked, they began to dig, almost as instinctively as a mole begins to burrow when placed on the ground. In every new deal that Sherman and Johnston made, spades were trumps, and as our boys knew how to play the game, we usually won.

"It was amazing to see how quickly a line could be thrown up in that timbered country. Logs, rails, stumps, stones anything which could form a slight protection, was piled along the regimental front, and inside of this a trench was dug, the earth being thrown outside to form a breastwork. In a few minutes it is strong enough to resist a musketry fire, and a sudden charge could be successfully repelled by the aid of this frail work. When there was no danger of immediate attack, or when this first breastwork became a part of the regular line of investure, a strong parapet was built, faced with logs, poles, or rails, perpendicular on the inside, and four or five feet high. The trench on the inside was then widened to from four to six feet, and deepened to two feet, the earth being thrown over in front again, and making a wall on the outside, four to six feet thick. The parapet was generally crowned with a head-log, a space being left between its under side and the parapet to fire through. The head-log rested on skids, which sloped off across the trench to keep the log from injuring the men, if displaced by a cannon-shot. These works were sometimes further strengthened by an abatis of tree tops, placed a number of rods in front,with their sharpened branches turned toward the enemy. Through this an attacking column would find great difficulty in making their way under fire. Such works could be held against almost any direct attack, as Sherman found to his cost in his unsuccessful charge on the Kenesaw line on the 27th of June.

"The skirmish pit was much like the mainline in construction, except that it was lighter and only twelve or fifteen feet long. The skirmish pits were placed as far in advance of the main line as the location of the enemy's pits would permit, the opposing skirmish lines often being uncomfortably near each other.

"The establishment of a skirmish pit in an exposed position, in the face of a watchful Confederate line, was a task requiring the wisdom of a serpent, the courage of a lion, and the building powers of a beaver. I distinctly remember one particular skirmish line in front of Johnston's Allatoona line of defense; and though the situation now presents itself to me in a somewhat ludicrous light, it was serious enough on Saturday, the 28th of May, 1864. We went on the skirmish line before daylight, as it was in an open field in plain sight of the enemy's main line, and not more than 300 yards from their skirmish line. The particular post where I found myself was sheltered by two lengths of rail-fence in the shape of a letter V, strengthened somewhat by additional rails. At first we confined our attention to the enemy's skirmish pits, and many sharp shots were exchanged. But along in the forenoon we became ambitious, and began to try the effect of long-range shots on the main line. Directly in front of us was one of the enemy's batteries, and as we could now and then see a man not sheltered by the parapet, or an officer riding along on horseback, it amused us to see how our long-range shots would quicken their pace. Some of the shots must have taken effect, or, at any rate, they could bear our fire no longer, for about the middle of the forenoon that battery opened a terrible fire on our particular pile of rails.

“We had thought that our insignificance was our best protection, but now the tables were sadly turned. We knew that the loose rails would aid in our destruction if a shot should strike them, but we clung to our fence corner, dreading the skirmish fire if we should leave it.

"Serious as the situation was, a ludicrous feeling flashed through my mind for a moment as I looked around for a place to lie down. My comrades, including the lieutenant of the guard, were piled together in the corner of the V, each trying to make himself as flat as—” [some of the sermons preached by the chaplains the S. P. U. H. thought he said as their great ears for once failed to catch the comparison; but it might have been as flat as they lay when robbing hen-roosts while the property man was near. However, the society concluded, without any reflection upon the speaker, that posterity must necessarily suffer the loss of some eloquent points of history; otherwise the historian of three thousand years hence would have no ancient manuscripts to ponder over.]

"The boys were so mixed together," continued the narrator, " that I could not distinguish one from the other. I lay down behind the pile, and wished myself behind the main line. Shell after shell shrieked over us so close that we could almost feel the wind of them, and one or two burst just behind the post, but nothing struck our pile of rails.

"The fire from the enemy's batteries became so sharp that our batteries began to answer it, and this turned their attention from such small game to pay their respects to our main line. Other batteries began to join in, and as gun after gun awoke from both sides it seemed as if old Nick had let loose all his dragons. When the firing ceased we became badgers, one and all, and began to dig for dear life. Bayonets, tin plates, pieces of rails anything that could turn up earth, was used.

"By-and-by, when the Confederate skirmishers were not alert, one of our number crept along, Indian-fashion, past a light growth of bushes to the next post to the right. He soon returned with a spade, and if that spade had been solid gold, handle and all, presented to our post for our sauciness in stirring up such a hub-bub, it could not have been received with greater delight. At first it was used with great difficulty, for to rise to one's feet, even in a stooping posture, was almost sure death from a rebel musket-ball. By slow degrees a shaft was sunk in the fence-corner, deep enough for a man to stand upright, and by making frequent changes, that spade was so diligently used, that by the middle of the afternoon we had transformed our frail defense into a shot-proof redan.

"Then we opened on that battery again, loading and firing as fast as we could, and they opened on us more furiously than before, but we answered them shot for shot. We had one advantage, for, by watching the puffs of smoke from their cannon we could seek safety in the subterranean region of our little fort before the shot reached us. We could dodge their shots, but they could not dodge our musket-shots, which were imperceptible. They tried us with solid shot, then shell, then grape-shot; but all in vain. We "silenced" that battery, that is, they ceased firing because their shots were of no effect; then we rested on our laurels. Those of my hearers who have never been in a battle may get some idea of the skirmish line of a great battle by multiplying many times the experience just related.

"The Atlanta campaign might be called a skirmish one hundred and twenty days long, rising now and then into a battle; for, from the time that we took the enemy's works at Tunnel Hill on May 7, until we parted company with Hood's army at Jonesboro, below Atlanta, the skirmish fire hardly ever ceased.

"The two armies became familiar with each other on the skirmish line; and familiarity bred respect. On the Kenesaw line the skirmishers began to parley with each other, and friendly meetings between the lines became frequent.

"I happened to be on the skirmish line when the practice first began. One afternoon there was a pretty lively fire for awhile, and then a lull. It seemed as if both sides had become tired; and then the Johnnies hailed us thus:

" 'Hello, Yanks! Let up awhile. Stop firing, and send out two unarmed men half way, to talk with two of ours.'

" 'Do you want to surrender?' we asked.

" 'No! Give us a rest, and we'll have a chat with you.'

" 'All right, Johnny; you do the same.'

“A man from company A and myself started through the woods toward the rebel line, and before we had gone very far, we saw coming toward us two butternut-clad men, who were almost duplicates of Hercules. The rebs had not yet learned to trust our word, and so they had sent two men famous for their fighting powers in a rough-and-tumble encounter. I do not say that we had been selected for the same reason, though, in fact, my companion was a noted fist-fighter the terror of the whole camp when he was intoxicated.

"These two tall men were brothers from Texas, but our meeting was so friendly that suspicion was disarmed at once, and we sat down for a talk. The first question of the Johnnies' was:

" 'Ain't you 'uns most tired o' this thing?'

"It was evident that they were; but we told them that we had come to Dixie to see the thing through, and that when they were ready to say quit, and call us brothers under the Stars and Stripes, we would gladly go home.

" 'But why have you 'uns come down here to take away our n*****?'

"We assured them that such was not our object, and tried to enlighten them as to the cause of the war. They were very ignorant, and hardly knew what they were fighting for; but were wise enough to know that they were being beaten. They were anxious for some 'Lincoln coffee,' as they called it, and we gave them some from our haversacks. At this time the Johnnies were living on rye coffee, corn bread and bacon.

" 'You Yanks drink Rio,' they said, but we drink Ry-e!

"After exchanging Northern papers for some of the wretchedly-printed sheets then published in the South, we parted company with our two tall Texan friends, and soon both parties were safe within their own lines.

"Here is a sample of the newspapers published in the South in the latter part of the war," and the speaker held up a copy of the "Vicksburg Citizen," of July 2, 1863.

It was an interesting relic. Stationery was somewhat scarce in Confederate society, and even in business circles, when this edition of the "Citizen" was printed. Everything available in the line of paper had been used in making government "scrip," so that there was little supply for the baser needs of civilization. However, the editor of the "Citizen" was enterprising, and would not suspend his publication as long as anything like paper could be found with one white side to it. By the merest chance he obtained a quantity of fifth-grade wall-paper at a fabulous price, and at once proceeded to issue the Citizen," only two days before the surrender of the city. It was a daily paper daily whenever the proprietor could find anything to print it on and the copy exhibited was sixteen inches long by eleven inches wide, with four minion columns of war news quite clearly printed on the uncolored side. The coloring of the other side was a rough, gloomy green for the solid color, having a brown vine-like figure with a red flower for the ornamentation. It was a novel publication a monument to the endeavor of the proprietor, who could in reality present his readers with a chromo this time and only commemorates the extremities developed by war.

The relic was passed around for the curious to examine, while the speaker continued:

"As soon as we were safe in our own lines there would come a hail, Look out, Yanks! we're going to shoot!'

" 'All right, Johnny, pop away!' And for some time the skirmish fire would be kept up with unusual briskness, like children who break into an uproar after a period of enforced silence.

"There was nothing malicious about it; indeed, there was very little personal malice at this time between the men of the two armies. We had learned to respect each other on many a well-fought field, and when our men fell into their hands the regular soldiers treated them kindly. It was the wretched State militia, home-guards, and soldiers who had ever seen a battle, who treated our prisoners so cruelly at Andersonville and other Southern prisons.

"In concluding, I will offer a little incident which inspired the song, 'Hold the Fort.' The original was not very religious, but in battle, under great excitement, men do and say things which would not be excusable in civil life. It was at the bloody battle of Allatoona Pass; and Sherman, fearing that General Corse, who held an important position, might weaken, dispatched him to 'hold the fort ' at all hazards. To this General Corse replied: 'I am short a cheek-bone and an ear, but can whip all h—l yet.' "

"Your reference to the skirmish lines," said Gen. Ira J. Bloomfield, of the 26th Illinois, "reminds me of some of the freaks the boys committed at the siege of Atlanta. When the siege was in full blast, we moved our entrenchments to within fifteen or twenty paces of the enemy in many places, and the men resorted to all kinds of tricks and devices to get a good shot. One was to get a piece of looking-glass, and then turn a loaded gun-barrel down, pointed over the top of our works; and by lying down below it, and using the looking-glass, a soldier could sight his gun without exposing himself at all. But a very ingenious contrivance was to hollow a conical minie-ball and fill it with powder, and then fit a percussion cap to the point of the ball, with an opening down to the powder. One man would load his rifle with this ball, and several of his comrades would stand with their weapons cocked, ready to fire. The man with the conical ball in his rifle would fire at a stump, fence-rail, or any solid substance that could be seen near the enemy's rifle pits. When this bullet struck, it would explode and sound as if some one just outside their works had fired a gun. This naturally would make them raise their heads to see what it meant. Then came the opportunity for the men in waiting to surprise their antagonists with the most effective shots, much to the gratification of our men, and the chagrin of the boys in gray."

Davis, Washington. Camp-Fire Chats of the Civil War. The Lewis Publishing Co., 1888.

Washington Davis

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