On this date in May 1864, the “veterans” of Granbury’s Texas Infantry Brigade had just completed a rapid march from the far left of the army to a point beyond the far right; where a large force of the enemy had begun to move forward against what their officers hoped would be an enemy flank in the air.” Hardly had this diminutive brigade of Texans reached the field, with no time to build works of any kind, that seven Union infantry brigades made an all-out assault on their position. A soldier in the 10th Confederate Cavalry, Posey Hamilton advised that when retiring before the enemy out front, “we crossed over Granbury’s soldiers. They said to us, ‘Are they coming boys?’ I replied that they were . . . would be there in a few minutes, to which they responded: ‘Let them come; we are here, and here to stay.” The enemy, coming within steps of the “veteran Texians,” then began to shout: “By damn you, we’ve caught you without your logs (breastworks) now;” demanding the brigade to surrender. The Texans continued to fire despite the great odds faced until the enemy sullenly withdrew from their front, but remained so close in front of Granbury’s line at nightfall as to require the most unusual reaction: A nighttime bayonet assault had to then be launched by the Texans to clear their precarious front. On this day, May 27th, American veterans fought for what they believed to be a just cause, and are worthy of our homage to their sacrifices, as we would show respect for any other veteran today! [Posey Hamilton, 10th Confederate Cavalry, in “Confederate Veteran, XXX, (1922), 338.
Having marched eighteen miles in just over six hours to reach the Franklin community on the 30th, Cleburne’s Division was given an assignment by Hood to break through the strongly fortified Union center along the Pike. Granbury’s and Govan’s constituted the first line, Lowery’s a second, advancing in a double-line of battle; with no reserve at their rear. To save men’s lives, Cleburne initially advanced in a column of regiments, right in front, to protect them from a battery of long-range rifled guns that began to shell them at a distance of over a mile. Arrived in front of an advanced line of the same brigades they had fought the previous evening, they deployed “into line as if on a parade field,” overwhelming the Federals there and following them post-haste towards to the main works a quarter of a mile further. Unwilling to wait further in allowing their own men to get in, suddenly a stabbing sheet of flame erupted in the faces of the Texas and Arkansas soldiers. At the pike entrance into the village several of the Texas battalions broke through, but at a cost that literally destroyed they and their companions from Arkansas: Cleburne, Granbury, and every field officer of the Texas Brigade were either killed, wounded or captured; with only a single surviving Capt., Edward T. Broughton, Jr. (though himself wounded) taking command of the survivors.
On the following day, as the rest of the army moved towards Nashville, both Granbury’s and Govan’s had to be left at Franklin to be reorganized, some officers “having no men, and some companies having no officers!” I annually celebrate these two events, but especially this year for I’ve just completed Volume II of my treatise: “A Force to be Reckoned With: A History of Granbury’s Texas Infantry Brigade.” If interested, I encourage the reader to go out to www.dannysessums.com for further information. And my hearty thanks to all those that purchased the initial volume this past year!
On November 29, 1864, the once-vaunted Army of Tennessee made an entire day’s march to flank Maj. Gen. John Schofield’s two infantry corps, arriving around 4:00 P. M. in the vicinity of the small crossroads community of Spring Hill; just thirty-plus miles south of Nashville. Gen. John B. Hood believed he had the enemy within his grasp, and he actually did have them dead to right! But he let the opportunity escape in not remaining on-scene with his troops, instead of personally forcing the issue. In the ensuing action that transpired just at dusk, Maj. Gen. Pat Cleburne’s famous division made an assault upon two brigades of Federals, rolling up a goodly portion of Stanley’s 4th Corps, driving them back upon the turnpike. His third brigade, under Brig. Gen. Hiram B. Granbury, became separated in the dark and actually broached the turnpike further south than either Govan’s or Lowery’s Brigades.
Halted at the east side of the pike, these Texans had been fired into by a section of the Pennsylvania Reserve Light Artillery’s 12 pounders, supported by the 36th Illinois Infantry, driving both forces back onto their artillery park. That task completed, the brigade was halted, faced by the right flank and in a column of files, made a double-quick march of somewhat in excess of a half mile in an attempt to bolster the other two near the village. Discovering they were no longer required at the edge of town, Granbury then led them back southward, where they came under the same guns firing canister and shell almost the entire distance, this prompting one company officer to later write: “you can bet your ocean wave that we suffered [heavily] from that fire!” For the remainder of the night, the brigade lay in camp within 80 yards of the turnpike, watching as the better part of two enemy corps swept across their front. Granbury twice sought permission to move forward and seize the pike but was denied both times form higher-ups. Union soldiers would venture out to their campfires to light their pipes, only to be taken prisoner. As is so often stated these days: “The rest is history;” which is revealed for my November 30th post on this site.
The magnificent battle of Picket’s Mill, or New Hope Church, Ga., was fought on May 27, 1864. The brunt of the battle, which saw two divisions respectively from the 4th and 14th Corps, plus a brigade from the 20th, (almost 14,000 men ), attacked Granbury’s Texas Infantry Brigade, which had just moved to the battlefield but a scant few moments before the Federals themselves arrived; the Texans having no time to even throw up temporary field-works. The Yankees were heard to scream: “By damn you, we have caught you without your logs now,” and seven lines came on, arranged in battalion front. Undeterred, the Texans, as Maj. Gen. Patrick Cleburne recalled, responded with “blue pills”, literally blasting each successive line back down into the ravines from whence they came.
The following came from a letter penned by Lt. Thomas Stokes of the 10th Texas, and is excerpted herein as sent to his sister, Missouri Stokes:
Maj. John Kennard of the 10th Texas Infantry, “was as usual, encouraging the men by his battle cry of ‘put your trust in God, men for he is with us’; but concluded to talk to the Yankees awhile, sang out to them, ‘Come on, we are demoralized,’ when the major was pretty severely wounded in the head, though not seriously, when raising himself up, he said: ‘Boys, I told them a lie, and I believe that is the reason I got shot!'”
The fighting was very close and desperate and lasted until after dark. About 11 o’clock that night, three regiments of our brigade charged the enemy, our regiment among them. We went over ravines, rocks, and almost precipices, running the enemy entirely off the field. We captured many prisoners, and all of their dead and many of their wounded fell into our hands. This charge was a desperate and reckless thing, and if the enemy had made any resistance they could have cut us all to pieces.[ Mary A. H. Gay. Life in Dixie During the War, pp. 77-8.]
I’m working assiduously on the next volume of A Force to Be Reckoned With and hope to have it completed later this year. In the meantime, if you haven’t read the first half, you can get your copy HERE.
During the winter of 1861-62, any number of battlefield disasters in the Confederacy, caused the War Deptartment to call upon the states to furnish additional regiments of all arms to be rushed to various fronts to forestall a forced reunification of the states. Out in Texas several infantry and cavalry regiments underwent hurried organization: This included the 6th and 10th Texas Infantry, and 15th, 17th, 18th, 24th and 25th Texas Cavalry. When the Sec. of War ordered the Dept. commander of the “Lone Star” State to furnish fifteen regiments, of which this seven would constitute the largest segment. Ordered to Arkansas and Mississippi, the latter didn’t transpire because the U.S. seized the various crossings of the Mississippi River; leaving these regiments to initially see service amongst the citizens of Arkansas, which the Texians often derisively referred to as “rackensackers.” The infantry commands enlisted for three years (or the war), while the cavalry joined up for just twelve months! While the former mostly had uniforms and military arms, the latter mostly entered the service supplying their own mounts, tack, clothing, etc. The infantry had several months of military discipline exposure, while the cavalry seldom knew more than a very limited amount of drill before going off to fight.
In Arkansas the cavalrymen of the 15th, 17th, and 18th Texas, unfortunately, were the first to “smell smoke,” these being small unit attacks upon Union troops in the northeast who were steadily pushing south in an effort to take Little Rock; knocking Arkansas out of the war. By mid-July, these regiments had accomplished their mission and were moved to just east of the capitol. But as with the other new regiments reaching Arkansas, diseases, and infirmities had already made huge inroads in reducing these regiments, who suffered from poor rations, and scant medical care upon becoming sick. The 15th, 17th and 18th Cavalry were now thrown into a brigade centered on the well-drilled 10th Texas Infantry. Then, to the mortification of the cavalrymen, they were dismounted, their horses sent home and their service extended to a full three years! Additionally, all men over 35 or under 18 were discharged under the first Conscript Act; the regiments all reorganized, and to make matters seemingly worse their pay was reduced to that of their web-foot counterparts!
About this time the veteran 6th Texas Infantry had been halted outside Pine Bluff, where they began to drill anew, where it was joined by the 14th and 25th Texas Cavalry (the latter had been ordered dismounted as well), and the three commands organized in a second Texas Brigade. It was charged with preventing the enemy’s employing the nearby Arkansas River as a means to send naval gunboats and land forces up to reach Little Rock from the southeast. As had their counterparts near Little Rock, these new cavalrymen had likewise struggled with their share of mumps, chicken pox, and Small-pox. Many a man went home feeble, never to or worse, went into shallow graves that surrounded their camps. In September this latter brigade moved by forced marches downstream to Arkansas Post, just back of the Mississippi, where a military post (dubbed “Ft. Hindman) had undergone construction. Surrounded by swamps and exposed to millions of mosquitos, not surprisingly, sicknesses proliferated. In late November they were joined at the Post by the remaining, by now fairly-trained infantry brigade that incorporated the 10th Texas Infantry, and the 15th, 17th, and 18th Dismounted Cavalry.
As Volume I of “A Force:” covered extensively the resulting Battle of Arkansas Post, this piece will focus on the consequences of that fight. One entire company of the 17th Texas Cavalry Dismounted had been out as skirmishers down Post Bayou and escaped completely the debacle suffered by their comrades. They were joined for many days thereafter by soldiers from the 6th and 10th Infantry, and 15th, 18th, 24th and 25th Cavalry Dismounted. Some had gone back to Little Rock, but a plethora returned to their Texas homes. Throughout the spring of ‘63 the various complements of men were temporarily organized and ordered to camps before being ordered in early summer to Shreveport, La. On July 1st, these survivors were enrolled in the newly created 17th Texas Consolidated Dismounted Cavalry, with Col. James Taylor of the 17th selected to command the regiment (of just eight companies), two days later receiving a presentation flag presented by Miss Emma Watson.
Here they were re-brigaded with the 22nd and 31st Texas Dismounted, and soon after by the 34th Texas Dismounted. Following several months of intensive drill, the brigade gained a new commander in the form of a diminutive Frenchman by the name of Camile Armand Jules Marie, Prince de Polignac. The Texans noted his short stature and, coupled with the fact he spoke French more often than not, designated him their “Polecat.” They were ordered to Alexandria, where they entrenched that city, where they were to be supplied with “Enfield and Springfield rifles and accoutrements” recently captured from the enemy recently at Brashear City. The brigade reached Maj. Gen. Richard Taylor’s army in late October 1863, to serve alongside Taylor’s former brigade of Louisianans. After a mid-winter campaign to northeast Louisiana, many men having no shoes (and Pneumonia taking many lives), the brigade returned to Taylor’s army near Alexandria, reaching Pineville on March 14, 1864. Here they entered into the west Louisiana “Red River” campaign that would witness them achieving perhaps the most significant victory over the enemy they were to experience.
Polignac’s and Gray’s La. Brigade became a new division, during which time they retired northward through Ft. Jessup, reaching Pleasant Hill On April 1st. On the 3rd the brigade made it to within six miles of Mansfield, a day later marching through and beyond the town where they rested several days, awaiting reinforcements from Texas. On the 8th, the army marched back through Mansfield, their band playing “Dixie.” Then continuing southeast three miles to reach the Sabine Crossroads, the band struck up the “Bonnie Blue Flag,” the martial music signifying the opportunity had arrived to “see the elephants,” as the soldiers realized they were about to fight. Turing their column to the left and moving north, they were halted and the La. Brigade moved beyond them to become the new left flank (Texas Confederate cavalry brigades would be advanced to their left thereafter, all to take their guide from Taylor’s army.) Near 4:00 P.M., Taylor road past Polignac, calling forth: “Little Frenchman, I am going to fight (Maj. Gen. Nathaniel) Banks here if he has a million men.”
Having been moved to a new position just north of a rail fence that ran east and west, the division was ordered to advance in-echelon, left in front, which would see Polignac’s Brigade strike the enemy’s troops posted behind the fence, it turning out that the 17th Texas Consolidated confronted the 130th Illinois Infantryof Brig. Gen. Landrum’s 13th Corps Division. Here the enemy line had turned south and the right wing of the 17th Texas exploded through the interval between the 130th and the 77th Illinois on the former’s left. Maj. Gen. Alfred Mouton having been already been killed, Polignac assumed division command, with Col. James Taylor of the 17th taking over “Polecat’s” Brigade. The latter had already lost Lt. Col. Sebron Noble, killed early on in this charge, Maj. Tucker taking over the regiment. The 17th Texas pivoted upon its left flank to the enfilade the ranks of both the 49th Ohio and 19th Kentucky Infantry from the rear. Sweeping everything before them, the Texans next struck a second line of the Federals a couple of miles beyond, capturing artillery, wagons, and hundreds of enemy soldiers.
Near dark, three miles further along, the winded Texans struck a new line composed of troops from the 19th Corps, which had been rushed forward to stem the rebel advance. Struggling to drive the enemy away from the only fresh water available to the adversaries, Col. Taylor of the 17th Texas led the men in a final charge but was shot dead in the melee near the water course. A post-event analysis of the casualties in the regiment noted twenty-three killed and forty-five wounded. Among those killed in the initial charge was Lt. Jose de la Garza, formerly of the 6th Texas Infantry, who apparently died along with five others in the explosion of a shell which struck the regimental colors as they moved across the field in front of the fence. Afterward, the brigade withdrew to their former camps above Mansfield, where the men of the 17th received issues of Federal canteens, cartridge, and cap-boxes, bayonets, and belts from the immense trove of material that fell into rebel hands.
The brigade was again called to the front the following day at Pleasant Hill, and while they saw some action, it was minor when compared to the previous afternoon. The colors of the 17th Texas Consolidated Cavalry was brought back t Texas at war’s end and ultimately preserved by Ensign W. H. Parker, who had borne it through the war. The September 1903, Athens Review, carried an article written by a Dallas newspaper reporter Dallas who traveled down to the parson’s abode to view it and get the story behind it. And that very same flag made an appearance at the 1929 reunion of the regiment in Lufkin, where an image was made of Capt. Fears of Co. A, 17th, along with Ensign W. H. Parker holding it aloft. One can clearly observe the bullet and shell piercings still present across its face after all those years. Dismounted cavalry units from Texas made up a large proportion of the infantry commands that served in that deadly conflict and for that reason, their stories need to be related to every generation that considers themselves to be “real Texians.”
Recently Danny gave a talk on this subject. A video of that presentation can be found here:
To see the maps and images, you can explore his presentation here: 17th Texas Presentation