19 January 1862, Kentucky, War Between the
States
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Reminiscences of Lt. Spencer Talley, 28th Tennessee Infantry (Original source: http://members.aol.com/reb4life/talley. html; see note at end) Spencer B. Talley was born in Wilson County, Tennessee, on May 22, 1841. In 1918, when he was approaching his 77th birthday, a granddaughter presented Talley with a bound volume of blank leaves, and requested that he record for her the history of his family, and of his experiences as a Confederate Soldier. The result was a wonderful retelling of his life story, centering on his war experience. Talley's "Diary" is a treasure for those of us who are interested in the life of the common soldier of the Confederacy during the War for Southern Independence. Instances of high drama, humor, and pathos abound, as do stories of hair's-breadth escapes and the trials of life in occupied Tennessee. For the convenience of the reader, the Talley Diary has been divided into six chronological segments as described below ... (only those dealing directly with Talley’s army life and the battle of Fishing Creek are included here). ------- Enlistment and Early Army Days The minds, thoughts and soul of the people generally had become so absorbed on war topics, that I thought best to close my school and be ready to fall in with the rapidly forming enlistments for southern defense. After winding up my little school affairs and returning home, I and my brother Robert J. began making our preparations to enter the southern service. We found there were several companies being formed in the county. About twenty were in readiness in our Taylorsville section and a like number had been formed at Hunters Point, but it took at least one hundred and four to complete a fill company. Johnathan Eatherly was raising a Company at Mt. Juliet. These squads soon conferred and come together making a full company. The ladies at Mt. Juliet had made a beautiful silk "Battle flag" and had elected Miss Annie Sherill to make the presentation address. I was selected to receive the banner and make the reception address, the honor of which I sincerely appreciated so much so that I had Haywood Y. Riccle, one of our most brilliant orators, to assist me in the preparation for this occasion. The time had been set for this happy and interesting occasion, and complete preparations to do justice in behalf of Southern rights and the Bonny blue flag. When I had notice that the people of Mt. Juliet or the Wade Baker wing of our company were dissatisfied with the selection of Miss Sherill to present the Banner and that the matter had been called off, for fear that a tragedy might occur if the programs were carried out with her as maid of honor in the presentation ceremonies. This all occurred as I learned because some thought that another young lady of that community who had taken great interest in the matter should have had the honor. This incident at the time was the subject of considerable talk and comment, but in no way disturbed the peace, harmony and good will of the soldier boys who were preparing to go forth in defense of southern rights. Our company came together often as we could in practice in drilling and to be posted as to the prospect of getting into camp "life" as one would say in that age of the world. John P. Murray of Gainsboro, a prominent citizen and lawyer of Jackson county, was forming a regiment at Livingston and Governor Isham G. Harris, learning of our readiness ordered us into that camp. I think it was about the middle of September, 1861 when our company left Lebanon. We took the Trousdale Ferry pike and being "foot men" or infantry we only got as far as "Caney Fork" the first day. The next day we landed at what we were pleased to call "Camp Jollicoper" a place about 1 1/2 miles west of Livingston where flowed there and I suppose flows now one of the finest springs in Tennessee. The water in a large volume gushes from the side of a mountain and falls from a projecting rock the distance of about twenty feet. It was icy cold and clear as crystal. So far then as water was concerned us we had all that could be desired, for no army was able to make it muddy or in anyway impair it's usefulness and purity. There were a few wagons that came with us to carry our supply of rations and many other things that our good home people thought was needed in our army life and for several days we had old ham and good coffee galore and by the time we had used the good things brought from home our commissary department had sufficiently organized and equipped to furnish all needed food from the surrounding county and we had a delightful time for several weeks in our army training camp. We had no one in camp capable to give the right and proper training for the development of that physical strength and endurance so necessary in the warfare in which we were about to engage. Several of our officers had "Hardees" tactics and they studied these tactics daily and soon had us quite proficient in the manual of arms and also able to go through with the many maneuvers of well drilled soldiers. We spent only about two hours in the forenoon and two in the afternoon drilling. So the remainder of our time was spent in reading and writing to our home people and taking lessons in cooking. In the connection with the above I will state that for two or three weeks after our arrival in camp we had no arms, save a few old squirrel rifles and an occasional pistol, though most all the boys had huge butcher knives made in our blacksmith shops. The South had no arms or munitions of war and but little chance of obtaining any from foreign countries on account of the blockade, consequently we were hard put to get something to fight with. On account of the scarcity of arms our state government had a great number of what was called "pikes" made, they consisted of a pole about 8 or 10 feet long with a spear and sharp hook at the end made to cut both coming and going. However none of our regiment had any of these "pikes" instruments to fight with. Before long we got our old flintlock muskets, used last in the Battle of New Orleans, and almost ruined by rust.
The Battle of Fishing Creek We were called a late hour of the night to rush up to camp "Myers" a distance of about three or four miles where Colonel Sidney Stanton was forming a regiment. The report said that a force of the enemies cavalry was approaching and that we would be needed in their defense. Much excitement and great haste was made in getting in line of march, all were anxious to get into the fight and it was about good daylight on the morning of the 19th of January that we came to the enemy camps. The night was very cold and it had been raining, sleeting or snowing all night and many were the fences we had to burn on the roadside to keep from freezing. Our old flintlock muskets were wet and water soaked, our regiment spent about ten minutes in trying to dry out and be ready for the fray. Battle's regiment, the 20th Tennessee, and the 15th Mississippi Rgt. brought on the attack. General Zollicoffer, in the mix-up owing to the smoke and fog, dashed into the enemy's ranks and was killed before the battle had begun. Leaving his brigade without a commander these two regiments were badly used up and gave way in great confusion. Our regiment was on the extreme left while the fighting was all on the right and when they were repulsed, our wing was about to be cut off and captured. We were formed through a dense thicket of undergrowth and grape vines, when our colonel gave order to retreat in haste or we would be cut off. There was a rush made to get out of this thicket and in leaving my foot was caught in a vine. I fell in the pathway leading out of the thicket. I made many efforts to rise up but before I could rise some boys would step on me and I am sure that not less than twenty men ran over me before I could get on my feet, and when I had succeeded I found that I had been kicked along and that my hat and gun were twenty feet behind me. I knew it would not do to lose my gun and hat, and when I had gone back for them, I found I was way behind and the "minnie balls" flying thick and fast about me. After leaving the thicket we had to cross an open field, the ground was soft and wet and covered with grass which made the mud stick fast to our feet. Before I reached the woodland on the opposite side of the field my feet felt as if there was twenty pounds to each foot and I was broken down and still behind my comrades and felt sure I would be captured. I had gone but a short distance in the woodland before a piece of fleeing artillery came by me with ten horses hitched to it. A man to each pair of horses was driving under whip and lash, as the cannon was passing I jumped astride of it and locked my arms around it and my gun to keep from falling off. I rode this cannon for half a mile I suppose right through a woods when there was no road and frequently had jolts. When the wheels would strike a tree, that almost knocked the life out of me, and I have often thought of this as the most uneasy as well as the roughest ride of my life. This was our first scrap with the Yanks and I am sure we had a few days of as much suffering and want as we experienced during the civil strife. We reached the Cumberland river near our camp about sunset. The Yanks kept in close pursuit all the way. Our few Cavalry men, who covered our retreat held them back until we were in a somewhat fortified position where we held them in check till late in the night, when we crossed over to the south side of the river. When (we were) through crossing the little steamboat "Ella", which we used in crossing, was burned to prevent it's use by our enemy in it's pursuit.
Retreat and Hardship Now we privates had no idea that the retreat would be continued. We thought we were back at home in our old camp and would probably spend the remainder of the winter there. But early the next morning we were ordered in line of march. We had no orders to take our rations or anything save our guns and were expecting an engagement with the Yanks that were crossing over, but instead we took the Livingston road and never halted till night. We hadn't a thing to eat or cooking vessels of any kind, and our minds naturally reverted to the good coffee, bacon, flour, lard, etc. We had a bountiful supply of provisions that we could easily carried along had we known that we were on a long retreat. Our army officers were lacking in the first principles of army life. They had little if any conception of the vital points to be guarded in case of retreat. The news of this disaster, having gone to our people at home, they quickly slaughtered a number of hogs and several wagons from Wilson county loaded with fresh killed pork and flour and meal met us a few miles above Gainsboro. My father and Uncle E.D. Johnson were with the party and had each a load of the things we were wanting. It is useless to say there was great rejoicing when these old men met us with such a substantial relief, for we had been on starvation basis for several days and many of our boys had become sick and worn out and would have fallen into the hands of the Yankees had not been for the courage and heroism of comrades who packed them for miles on their backs rather than leave them in the hands of the enemy. Dr. J.N. McFarland, who died a few months ago, often expressed his love and gratitude to me for having borne him along for miles to save him from the enemy. We were much together and devoted friends before the war and of course I would do anything in my power for his good and welfare. We rested for a day or so at and around Gainesboro and then began our march for a concentration of our armies. Fort Donelson on the Tennessee river both fell into the hands of the Federals soon after our defeat at Fishing Creek, thus forcing our retreat to the southern boundary of Tennessee.
Lt. Spencer Talley (right) and
Note: Lt. Talley's Reminiscences were found at http://members.aol.com/reb4life/talley. html, but the entire file can now be found on the SCV Tennessee Division Webpage, http://www.tennessee-scv.org/talley.html. (My thanks to Allen Sullivant for giving me the updated link.)
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