Company K, First Alabama Regiment; or, Three Years in the Confederate Service

by Daniel P. Smith

The spirit of the Confederate troops, while not enthusiastic, was good. While waiting the completion of the formation, the men of the regiments first in line were quietly discussing the probable issue of the impending battle; some with an eye to the future were picking white beans from the dead vines in a field in our front; others, no less industrious, were eating every crumb in their haversacks. Among the latter was poor Brown of Co. K, who, on being remonstrated with for his imprudence, replied that he would be killed; his forebodings proved too correct; one hour later he was dead.

About half-past three the command “Attention!” ran quietly along Stewart’s lines; a detail was ordered to the front to throw down a rail fence, and then came the orders “Forward!” “Double quick!” For two hundred yards the advance was through a corn-field, the dead stalks of which, of giant dimensions, were crossed and interlaced in every direction. When the farther side of the field was reached the command was halted, moved by the flank to the left, and the alignment corrected. The enemy’s works were now in full view, and not over a half mile distant. Immediately in the front of the First Alabama there was a valley with a small stream of water at the bottom, the descent and ascent on the other side being quite sharp. An open grove of sugar maples, entirely free of underbrush, extended to the Federal rifle pits. Away to the right the rattle of musketry showed that the battle had begun, and the order, “Skirmishers to the front!” almost immediately followed. The latter moved rapidly forward, availing themselves of the cover of the large maples and firing slowly as they advanced. As yet not a bullet had whistled by us, and it was hard to realize that it was more than a skirmish drill, with such precision did the men move.

By the time the skirmishers were fifty yards away there came the orders, “Forward! Double quick!” Down the hill, across the brook, up the slope, over the railroad; then came the first deadly Yankee greeting—a shrapnel bursting in the ranks of Co. E, killing and wounding nine men. In three minutes more the space was covered, the Confederates were past the rifle pits and in the outer line of the enemy’s works. Most of the Federals occupying them surrendered and were sent to the rear; many of those who tried to run back to the main line were shot down.

For an instant the line was halted and the men lay down in the captured works. Not a stump nor a stone obstructed the open field, on the farther side of which, behind their entrenchments, lay the main body of the enemy. To the right the roll of musketry was unintermitted, but immediately in our front, except from the Federal artillery, there was a momentary lull. It was but for a moment, then the order “Forward!” was repeated down the line. The men sprang to their feet, for the first time in the battle gave the “rebel yell,” and dashed forward, corps, division, and brigade officers leading in the assault. At the same instant a sheet of smoke shot out from the earthworks in front, thickening, as volley after volley poured forth, into a great white bank, but broken every moment by tongues of flame from the cannon. Looming up above the smoke in shadowy form, like some old tower, just inside the enemy’s works, were the huge timbers of a cotton-press; this was the only landmark; all else was hidden. But few shots were fired by the Confederates as they dashed forward, for, though there were no orders, each man instinctively felt that this was to be a struggle man to man. Two Napoleon guns, run forward by hand on the Columbia pike, kept well up with the line of battle and were fired steadily. No other artillery on the Confederate side fired a shot. The roar of the Federal musketry was something never to be forgotten; not even the Napoleons, nor the siege guns, firing from the fort on the other side of the river, could be heard distinct from that terrific volume of sound; yet the Confederates moved forward towards this death-dealing bank of smoke with all the precision of battalion drill. At the distance of forty yards from the works the Confederate line was unbroken and had suffered comparatively little loss. The effect of this solid, steady charge was such that Federal officers afterwards acknowledged that they could with difficulty keep their men from going to the rear. When within forty yards the enemy’s fire began to tell, and the Confederates fell rapidly. The enemy fired remarkably low, due, it is said, to their simply laying their muskets on the slope of the parapet and pulling the trigger without exposing themselves to take aim. At last the ditch was reached; some of the assailants dashed through the embrasures of the battery; others tried to clamber over the parapet, and others exchanged shots with the Federals under the head logs. Men were brained with butts of muskets or bayonetted on the parapet, while the flanking fire of the angles soon filled the ditch with the dead and dying; a few got inside of the works unscathed and were taken prisoners. Just to the left of the pike the Confederates broke the Federal line, and for a short time held one of their batteries, but the Federal reserve charged, and after a desperate struggle regained possession. This was the situation at dark: the opposing forces confronting one another, with but a bank of earth between, like two stags of the forest head to head and antlers locked. Johnston’s division coming up at 7, P. M., made a gallant effort to turn the evenly-balanced scale, but only added to Hood’s already appalling losses. About 9, P. M., the firing slackened and the roar of musketry gradually died away, but was renewed at intervals as one or the other side perceived or suspected some movement of its foe.

So soon as the Federals were satisfied that the assault was over, they commenced quietly to withdraw, and by 3 o’clock the next morning they were safely across the river.

Daylight revealed to the Confederates their fearful loss; in front of some portions of the works the ground was covered with the dead. Report at the time placed the Confederate loss at 1,500 killed and 3,000 wounded. Hood, in his despatches from the battle-field, gave his loss at 4,500 killed, wounded and prisoners, the last being estimated at 1,000. Swinton, the historian, gives the Confederate loss as 1,739 killed, 3,850 wounded and 702 prisoners; total, 6,201. This would, in a measure, agree with Hood’s own statement in “Advance and Retreat,” where he places his total losses from all causes, from November 6th to December 10th, 7,547; this includes the losses at Columbia and in Forrest’s skirmishes. It will thus be seen that nearly one-third of those engaged were killed and wounded, and that one-tenth were killed. Probably there never was a battle fought on the American continent, between civilized armies, where the slaughter was so great as in Hood’s army. The Federals reported their loss at 189 killed, 1,033 wounded and 1,104 prisoners; total, 2,326. Their report of killed is, in the writer’s opinion, understated, though the total may be correct. It was reported at the time that 300 Federal dead lay in the rear of the centre, where the heaviest fighting took place.

The casualties among the Confederate general officers were unparalleled, and their reckless exposure of their lives was the general subject of comment in the army. Nearly all went into the charge mounted, and Gens. Cleburne and Adams were killed while trying to spur their horses over the breastworks. Maj.-Gen. P. R. Cleburne and Brig.-Gens. Gist, John Adams, Strahl and Granberry were killed; Maj.-Gen. Brown and Brig.-Gens. Carter, Marrigault, Quarles, Cockrell and Scott wounded, and Brig.-Gen. Gordon was captured. Of Gen. Quarles’ staff all were killed and wounded but the General’s son, a lad of fourteen, who seized the brigade flag when the color-bearer fell, and bore it inside the enemy’s works. Dismounted in the melee, he tore the flag from the staff, concealed it under his coat and got safely out with it.

Of Co. K, eleven men went into the charge; of these, two were killed, four wounded and two taken prisoners. Private C. W. Brown was shot through the heart, Private J. W. May was killed on breastworks by the butt of a musket, Lieut. Smith received a ball in the face, breaking the lower jaw, when near the main line of the enemy; Sergt. C. H. Royals was shot in the knee in the ditch and captured, but left behind when the enemy retreated; Serg. Averheart was wounded in the abdomen by a pistol bullet; Corp. Tunnell was shot through one thigh and across the other; Private W. L. Ellis was captured in the ditch, and Private J. C. Hearn sprang through the embrasure of the battery and was captured inside the enemy’s lines. He relates that he placed his hand on the 12-pounder as he went in, and that it was so hot that it burned him. Corp. Rice and Privates A. D. Ellis and John Killough escaped unhurt. Of the members of Co. K not in the charge three were detailed, three were in the rear, footsore, barefoot or sick, and one—E. Hearn—had accidentally shot himself through the hand. A singular fatality followed the members of the Brown family in Co. K. There were three brothers—A. Pinkney, Elnathan and C. Wesley Brown—and a brother-in-law, J. A. Fergerson. The first two died of disease, and the last two were killed in battle. All were good men and brave, reliable soldiers. A fourth brother—Richard—who belonged to another command, lost an arm in battle. The loss in the regiment was about 150 out of 300 engaged. The color-guard were all killed or wounded. Lieut. Crymes, of Co. I, went over the entrenchments, and, refusing to surrender, was shot dead while waving his sword and calling to his men to follow. Maj. Knox was mortally wounded, Capt. Williams was taken prisoner, and the command of the remnant of the regiment devolved upon Lieut. McRae.

Corp. Rice collected together, on the morning after the battle, six men of Co. K, viz.: Privates T. M. Boggan, Day, A. D. Ellis, Killough, Martin and John Tunnell, and proceeded with the regiment to Nashville, where, some days later, O. Sergt. Alexander and private Moncrief rejoined the command.

Companies C and K were now united, and Orderly-Sergt. Alexander, of Co. K, was placed in command; Sergt. Blaylock, of Co. C, being second. The weather was extremely cold, and as nearly all the remnant of Co. K were barefoot and thinly clad, they suffered severely.