W. T. BARNES.
Now living at Marianna, Arkansas.
The infantry with loaded guns, closed in around them, prepared to defend Cheatham. The cavalrymen, who had not heard what was said, came up the hill to see what was going on. Forrest’s adjutant plunged between the two generals and pulled Forrest down toward the bridge. By that time the wagons were over. So General Forrest and his troops crossed the bridge without further parley. It might have been a terrible tragedy. If either general had been killed, we would have had war right there.
Next day Forrest sent an apology to Cheatham, at least so it was reported. The affair was witnessed by our company, but it was kept quiet as we had troubles enough without fighting each other. Forrest was a great officer and a fine cavalry leader, but he was tyrannical and hot-headed.
December 20th we marched all day on the pike to Pulaski in a cold rain—a rain that froze on the trees. We had to sleep on the wet ground. Many men were barefooted and marched over the pike with bleeding feet. We were called the “straggling squad” because we had to march more slowly than the others, and we were between the infantry and the rear cavalry, commanded by Forrest. In his mind a straggler deserved death. When he came up to a poor little squad he struck one, a Lieutenant, who was in charge of the barefoot squad, over the head with his sword and ordered him to go on and keep up with his command. He would listen to no excuse, as if these barefooted men, braving sleet and snow with bleeding feet, were not doing their duty as loyally as any man in the army.
These incidents are a part of the unwritten history; merely a few things that I know to be facts in our army life with Company G.
We established a hospital at Pulaski to care for our sick and wounded, and left it in charge of Dr. Brickie. I went to the Colonel of our regiment and told him I feared Dr. Brickie would detail me to be his druggist; that I wanted a pass so I could go on ahead and meet the command beyond the town. He gave it to me and I had gotten about half a mile beyond Pulaski, when I heard a horse galloping behind me. It was the Division Surgeon, Dr. L., who stopped me, saying, “Are you Bill Bevens of Company G, First Arkansas.”
“I am.”