While we were waiting for his wife to gather what she had left from supper, he asked us if we were that command the other day that fired on the Federals when they were tearing up the railroad near his house. I told him that we were, and he said, “They were in my pasture trying to catch my horses, when they heard the guns fire and you ought to have seen those devils run.” When we went in to supper we found a little piece of cornbread and a little butter, all they had left from supper, so the woman stated, not enough to satisfy one man’s hunger. We did not sit down at the table, didn’t touch anything they had to offer us, and went down to the crib to get the shattered corn for our horses, which he consented for us to take, fed our horses and laid down to rest for the balance of the night. Next morning we got up early and without going to the house, proceeded on the road towards Covington. Here now, was a fair illustration of the want of appreciation of a Confederate soldier, with a selfish lot of people, whom we occasionally met. Rest assured it was very discouraging to us. The idea of coming all the way from Texas to fight for and protect these people! He had told us that we saved his horses from capture by engaging the enemy near his house; you can imagine our disgust at such treatment. We now proceeded on the Covington road. When about two miles from there we came to a large, white house, a magnificent place, and rode up to the gate. A man about twenty-five years old, well dressed, wearing a white starched shirt, the first we had seen in a long time, came out to the gate. When within twenty feet of us, espying the leather on my horse’s back, tied to the rear of the saddle, he called out, “I want that leather.” I said, “If you need it any worse than I do, you are welcome to it.” He said he did, he wanted to make shoes out of it. I told him that I wanted to make a saddle out if it, to ride to keep Federals off of him, when he insisted that he needed it worse. I then told him that we wanted some breakfast and some feed for our hoses. He said, “All right, gentlemen; light and come in.” Before getting down I said, “I had better tell you that we are nearly out of money, not enough to pay for breakfast and feed, away from our command unexpectedly, but as soon as we get with them and we have an opportunity, we will send it to you.” He stated that he couldn’t afford to feed us without pay, that the armies had been around him for some time and had nearly eaten him out of house and home. I told him that he needn’t say anything more, that we didn’t want anything he had, although our horses were hungry, as well as ourselves. As we rode off he called after us, “I’ll feed you for that leather,” thus adding insult, but we decided not to notice him.
About three miles further down the road we came to another house, a somewhat humble cottage, and stopped to make some inquiry, when a lady came out to the gate and we asked how far down the road we could find a house where we could get something to eat for ourselves and feed for our horses. She asked us if we had tried at the big, white house we had passed on the road. We told her that we had and were refused because we had no money. She then insisted that we come in and partake of such as she had, telling us that she had very little left, as the commissary from Atlanta had visited her and taken all the corn she had, except five barrels, which in Georgia, means twenty-five bushels. This, she and her two daughters had made with their own hands, her husband being in the Virginia army. She then told us about this man at the big, white house, who had never been in the army, but had an exemption on pretense of working in a saltpetre cave and had never had any forage taken by the commissary from Atlanta, as he had protection papers, so she called them, from his general at Atlanta. I merely mention these cases to show you the condition at that time, of the State of Georgia, the worthy people submitting patriotically to all manner of abuse by some of our army officials, while some of the rich, through nefarious practices, escaped the weight of war. Thanking this lady for her kind offer, which we could not afford to accept, we continued on this road and two miles further on struck a large cornfield with tempting roasting ears and decided to stop, build a fire, dry our clothes and roast corn for our meal, feeding our horses on the same, in moderation. We had to build our fire of rails taken off the fence and very soon were enjoying our roasting ears and the warm fire, being somewhat chilled by the rain. The proprietor of the place came up the road and, judging from his manner and looks, was pretty mad, when he said, “Gentlemen, if you had come to the house I would have gladly given you a good meal and fed your horses, rather than to see the destruction of my rails.” I told him that we didn’t believe it, that we had tried several places up on the road and were refused because we had no money and he, no doubt, noting that we were in no mood for argument, decided that he had better say no more. We then proceeded on our road to Covington. When on our arrival there we found that Wheeler, with all the cavalry having horses fit for service, had gone on a raid into Middle Tennessee, by way of Dalton, tearing up the railroad in Sherman’s rear for many miles, and finally entering Middle Tennessee, returning by way of Mussels Shoals, rejoining the army below Atlanta.
After the battle of Jonesboro, Hood started on his fatal Middle Tennessee campaign, his march to the Tennessee River being covered by our cavalry, making a feint at Rome, Georgia, to which point General Sherman had followed, confidently expecting to give Hood battle at Gadsden and never suspecting his move towards the Tennessee River. While concentrating his army at Rome, Harrison’s Brigade, under Colonel Harrison, commanding our regiment, made a feint on Rome by dismounting, hiding our horses in the rear in the woods, out of sight, and advanced on the outer works of Rome, preceded by a line of skirmishers. For this purpose, not having our battle flag with us, we used a new flag, sent us from Nashville, made by a couple of young ladies from their silk dresses, with the name of Terry’s Texas Rangers worked in gold letters and some Latin words on the other side. After skirmishing with Sherman’s infantry a short time, we retired down the valley, which at this point was perhaps a couple of miles wide, from the hills to the bottoms.
Falling back that night some six or eight miles, we struck a wooded ridge, running from the hills to the bottom, perhaps nearly three miles long. This ridge overlooked the country in front towards Rome, several miles. General Sherman coming out in person with a corps of his infantry, expecting to give Hood battle the next morning, discovered there was only a handful of cavalry in his front, which was Harrison’s Brigade, and which he was specially anxious to capture. For this purpose he sent a heavy cavalry force, perhaps three times our number, into our rear, flanking our position by moving through the hills on our left, then occupying nearly every road in our rear, for eight or ten miles. During the night we received reinforcements of Pillow’s Brigade, a new command, which had been in only one engagement, at La Fayette, Georgia, where they were badly handled, causing the loss of a great many killed and wounded and in consequence, they were a little demoralized. We also received a section of artillery, two pieces, under a lieutenant, whose name I do not remember.
This artillery was stationed on a hill to the left of our position, under an old gin house.
Immediately after taking position the artillery opened on the enemy, a heavy line of battle making its appearance in the edge of the woods, about a mile distant. The Rangers were kept mounted, drawn up near this old gin house, supporting the battery, when all the rest of the two brigades had been dismounted with their horses immediately in the rear, out of sight of the enemy.
Very soon a courier from the right of our line, dashed up to Colonel Harrison and reported that the enemy were flanking us, down in the bottom, with a heavy force. Harrison abused him, told him to go back and tell his colonel if he sent him another such message he would have him court martialed, but very soon a lieutenant dashed up from the extreme right of our line, reporting the enemy advancing in the bottom, and about to outflank us, when Colonel Harrison decided to ride down in the rear of our line and ascertain conditions for himself. Immediately the enemy raised a shout and charged. The lieutenant of the battery, concluding that his guns were in danger of being captured, limbered up and ran down to the road, where he met Colonel Harrison returning and was by him ordered to unlimber and open again on the enemy, when he succeeded in firing one shot and was sabered right over his guns by the enemy’s cavalry. In the meantime, through some misapprehension of orders, the Alabama Brigade broke for their horses, followed by the balance of our brigade, when our regiment was ordered to charge their cavalry, which we did, striking them on their flank, using our six-shooters, to which they paid no attention, simply calling out, “Clear the road for the Fourth Regulars!” This Fourth Regulars was commanded by a Captain McIntyre from Brenham, Texas, who was in the United States Army, a lieutenant, when the war broke out, having just graduated at West Point.
It is hardly necessary to say that finding the enemy’s cavalry in our rear for a great many miles, resulted in a general stampede, everybody trying to make their escape out of it. In recording this engagement I regret to have to mention the loss of our beautiful flag which, encased in a rubber cover, slipped off its staff and was found by a Major Weiler, commanding a battalion of the Seventeenth Mounted Indiana Infantry, and after many years, returned to us at Dallas, Texas, by Governor Mount and staff, instructed to do so by a joint resolution of the Indiana Legislature, in response to a memorial, drawn up and sent by me.
In this engagement the Terry Rangers lost no prisoners, had only a few wounded and none killed, while the Alabamians’ loss was quite heavy in prisoners and the balance of Harrison’s Brigade had very few men taken prisoners. I made my escape by crossing the big road, being joined by about eight or ten Alabamians, one of whom was shot in the fleshy part of the thigh, which somewhat demoralized him, when he called on me, “Texas, can you take us out of here?” I told him, “Yes, follow me; I’ll take you out.” I struck out straight for the river bottom, the Federal cavalry not following us, and when out of sight of the main road, in a little branch bottom, I called a halt and told the men my plan of trying to swim the river, as the road ahead of us seemed to be occupied for many miles, judging by the scattered firing a great distance ahead of us. The wounded man straightened up in the saddle and asked me if I was an officer. I told him, “No,” and he said that he was a lieutenant and would take command of the squad. I told him he could take command of his own men, but he couldn’t command me, and told his men, “Now, all of you boys that want to go out with me, come on,” when they all followed me, including the lieutenant.
Reaching the high ground on the other side of the branch, I discovered a house, with a lone cavalry-man at the front gate, and, getting a little nearer, I recognized him as one Joe Harris, of our company, who was well acquainted in that section, having married, near Cedartown, the daughter of a Doctor Richardson, just on the other side of the river. He suggested to me that he knew of a batteau about seven miles this side of Rome; that we go up there, put our saddles and equipments into the boat, swim our horses across, then go to Doctor Richardson and get a good dinner; to which I, of course, readily consented. On our way to this batteau, following the river in the bottom, we struck hundreds of Alabamians trying to find a crossing place. These men we took along with us and when we reached the boat we were the first ones to cross, leaving the Alabamians there to cross as fast as they were able. Joe and I then rode to Doctor Richardson’s, about ten or fifteen miles, and by three o’clock sat down to a sumptuous dinner. Here we stayed all night and the next morning recrossed the river, finally striking the main Gadsden road and finding our stampeded forces gathering at some gap, the name of which I have forgotten. Here we met General Wheeler, with the balance of his command. We then moved down to the town of Gadsden, where we recrossed the river and spent several days resting our horses and ourselves.