William D. Mackall,
Brig.-Gen. Commanding.
Gen. Beauregard, in a communication published since the close of the war, expressed himself as satisfied with Gen. Mackall’s performance of the trust, but his troops saw only a series of blunders.
Gen. Mackall surrendered 3,000 men, 4,000 stand of arms, 75 siege guns and 24 pieces of light artillery. The enemy captured four transports afloat, and two transports and the gunboat “Grampus” which had been scuttled, and a considerable amount of stores and ammunition.
The following are the members of Co. K who were surrendered at Tiptonville: Capt. J. F. Whitfield, Lieut. D. S. Hall, Lieut. C. E. Tuttle, Sergts. Thompson, Rodgers, Merritt and Sears, Corps. Williamson and Blaylock, Privates Adams, Bledsoe, C. W. Brown, Cook, Dennis, Farmer, Frank, Fay, Hurd, Killough, May, C. H. Royals, Rice, Roe, D. P. Smith, J. S. Tunnell and Josiah Tunnell; total, 3 officers and 23 enlisted men. The commissioned officers were sent to Columbus, Ohio, and afterwards transferred to Johnson’s Island; the enlisted men were sent to Camp Butler, near Springfield, Ill. Several of the company were sick, and, with their attendants, were taken prisoners at the camp or in the hospital, viz.: Privates A. P. Brown, E. F. Brown, Fergerson, J. C. Hearn, Hearndon, C. J. Moncrief, W. L. Moncrief, J. F. Smith and Tarleton; total, 9. These were sent to Madison, Wis., and afterwards transferred to Camp Douglas, Chicago, Ill. J. F. Smith, mentioned above, started from the Island 10 camp with the company, but was attacked with measles, and was sent back to the hospital. Several hundred of the troops escaped across Reel-Foot River by wading and by boats. Among these were the following members of Co. K: Sergt. Norman Cameron, Corp. J. M. Royals, Privates Averheart, Durden, Hancock, Hutchinson, Elijah Hearn, George Hearn, Holston, Junius Robinson, G. H. Royals and Wilkins; total, 12. Some of these were on detail at Battery 1 and elsewhere, and others were on the sick-list when the company left camp.
The companies of the First Alabama stationed at the Island batteries were surrendered by direction of Gen. Mackall to Commodore Porter, Monday night, and were afterwards sent to Camp Butler, Ill.
CHAPTER III.
PRISON LIFE IN 1862—IN THE MUD—BIVOUAC AT NEW MADRID—A FRIENDLY IRISHMAN—AT CAMP BUTLER—SCANT WATER SUPPLY—ESCAPE OF PRISONERS—AN ASTONISHED SENTINEL—PLAYING GUARD—LOST ON THE PRAIRIE—A PRISONER SHOT—HEALTH OF THE CAMP—MORTALITY STATISTICS—CURIOUS PHENOMENA—DEATH VISITS THE COMPANY—COL. FUNDY IN COMMAND—PRACTICAL JOKES—TRINKET MAKING—NEWS FROM COMRADES—HOMEWARD BOUND—ARRIVAL IN DIXIE.
At daybreak on Tuesday, April 8th, the retreating garrison were quietly aroused from their leafy, but not otherwise romantic, couches in the woods below Tiptonville. It was a cold, cloudy morning, and the men, who had been without food or fire for twenty-four hours, stood impatiently in line of battle eager for something to be done that would warm up their chilled limbs and bodies. To continue the retreat, or to fight either would have been a welcome change, but the order that was passed down the lines was received almost in a spirit of mutiny by both officers and men. All knew that “Do not fire on the enemy” could mean nothing but surrender. Rations were served out, cooking utensils distributed, and fires built; but while busy cooking the men were ordered to “fall in,” “stack arms” and “march,” and breakfast was abandoned or eaten half raw. Upon arriving at Tiptonville the surrendered army was formed in close column, in an open field, and surrounded by guards. The field had been cultivated in corn, the previous year, and though the hollows between the rows might in dry weather, have offered rather tempting couches, they were treacherous ones in a wet season, while the black swamp mud was not conducive to cleanliness. During the day flour and bacon were served out, and the men had plenty of time to cook and eat. With night came on a storm, and the prisoners made such shelters as they could with fence rails and blankets. The only fuel was that offered by fences, with the stumps of the newly cleared land for pieces de resistance. Those who essayed the blanket shelters were roused by trickling streams of water from above, to find themselves lying in ponds of water one or two inches deep. Sounder sleepers would not awake till some rascal had filched their blankets, and the fire-builders had stolen their rails. By midnight the majority of the twenty-five hundred prisoners were packed, in circular groups, six or seven deep, around the fires, which dotted the field, or were wandering disconsolately from fire to fire hoping to find some place where a gleam of the flames could be seen. The anathemas of the men were bestowed quite impartially upon the weather, the Yankees and Gen. Mackall the Confederate Commander. Words and invective were exhausted in showering curses upon the last. Had they not been prisoners the discomforts of the night would have been of little moment, but under the existing circumstances it was dismal beyond description. Day at last dawned, and the men were almost ready to welcome with a cheer the arrival of the transports, which were to take them away from such a mud-hole, even though it was to a military prison. The boats were small stern-wheelers and conveyed the men only to New Madrid, Mo., where they were landed in the mud. New Madrid mud is red, contrasting well with the Tiptonville black, and, as there was no opportunity for ablutions, mud and smoke soon rendered the Confederates as varied in hue as Indian braves. Abundant rations of hard tack, bacon and coffee were served out, and, although the storm had not ended, the situation was much more comfortable than during the preceding twenty-four hours. The officers were now separated from the enlisted men—something akin in pain to parting parents from children.