Charles Barney Dennis at Stones River Part V: Distinguished Visitors and a Foggy Escape January 1-4, 1863


In the afternoon of January 1st, quite a large cavalcade of horsemen rode into the west gate headed by a man of fine stature and sitting his big, gray horse like the soldier he was; his face was a grim but not unkindly one, his hair and full whiskers trimmed short and just touched with gray, and the head surmounted by a soft, black felt hat that gave him a very decided resemblance to our own Pap Thomas. He rode to the porch of the house and asked if the body of General [Joshua W.] Sill was still there. A hospital sergeant pointed it out to him and riding over, the man dismounted, and approached the body. The body lay on the porch covered with a blanket. The man took off his hat, lifted the blanket, and looked into the dead face for quite a time, and finally recovering, he said to the sergeant, ‘Poor Sill. He was one of God’s noblemen.’ This big, fine looking man was General [William J.] Hardee of the Confederate Army, and at that time both armies were using Hardee’s tactics, although later on the Union Army adopted Upton’s.
General William J. Hardee

          In the evening of the same day there came in to the ground from the east side a mounted man of small stature (compared to the big Hardee). He was attended by an aide and an orderly. He rode up to the fire that had been built in the center of the ground, dismounted, and asked if he could see the surgeon in charge. One of our men ran in and brought Dr. Blount out. He stepped up to the little man who asked how things were going in the hospital, if supplies were plentiful, especially medical supplies, anesthetics, instruments, etc. Dr. Blount told him that the Confederate surgeons had taken most of his anesthetics, whereupon the little man turned quickly to his aide and told him to ride to Murfreesboro at once and get from the surgeon general of Bragg’s army a supply of ether. As the aide started for his horse, the little man asked him if he knew what ether was and told him he better write it down, which the aide did and departed.

          The little man appeared to be in a talkative mood and not averse to conversing with the enlisted men. The talk was mostly about the war, which the little man said was to be deeply regretted. He seemed either nervous or diffident, his voice while clear was not heavy and he had a habit of rubbing his hands together as he talked, as I have often seen diffident men do. He said he was wounded once at Richmond and showed us the scars on his cheeks where he said some careless Yankee shot him, not doing much harm, though, only making two little holes and taking along two molars. But he said a man can’t tell when ‘Finis’ will be written. He was General Patrick Cleburne, a major general of the Confederate Army. He had been an officer in the British army and when his time was out, he came to America and settled in Arkansas. When the war broke out he joined the rebel side. He was a fierce fighter, a good general, and had the reputation of being a kind-hearted man.

General Patrick R. Cleburne

By this time, having been in the hospital two days and getting very tired of it, I concluded that night that I would change my sleeping quarters by going across the lane from the hospital and sleep in a corn crib. That night was wet and cheerless and my sleep was not the soundest. I heard all through the night troops moving, large bodies of them, the rumble of artillery, the lighter rattle of wagons, but upon looking out the utter darkness prevented me from seeing anything to explain all this noise.

In the morning there was a dense fog and right then and there I made up my mind to get away. I concluded that if I could pass the hospital grounds guard line, I could go farther and that if stopped at the guard line I would make the excuse of having lost my way in the fog. I started out and there appeared to be no guard line so I continued on through a piece of woods that had evidently been cared for in a manner that made it ornamental as well as useful. Great big beautiful oak, hickory, black walnut, and butternut trees well-trimmed up, but with heavy overgrowth, but below so thinned out that one could see quite a long distance unless prevented by fog.

 I had probably gone half a mile possibly more when I discovered not far away two riders. These two men looked like giants and they were riding straight for me. I slipped behind one of the big trees but evidently I had been seen for I heard one ask the other if he saw anything of him yet. The other said no, then number one said let’s circle out to the right and left and if he’s behind one of these trees we’ll get him all right. I was behind the tree and if I looked as I thought I did they could never have seen me for I felt about as a stamp looks on a letter. I was sure glued to that tree. I looked to my left and he was coming straight for me and had unslung his carbine and was ready for all emergencies. So discretion being the better part of valor, I stepped out and put up my hands. He rode up to me and asked where I thought I was going. His blue overcoat would indicate to me that he was Union, but lots of Rebels were wearing blue coats taken from our dead, wounded, and prisoners, so the blue coat was not a sure sign. I thought if I could hear him say something rather at length I could tell what he was, so I said where do you think I was trying to go to. Then he opened up in right good Yankee that he would leave my destination in doubt but would take me where I would at least that I was out of the fog. Then I asked what command he belonged to, and he replied promptly the 4th U.S. Cavalry. Then I told him that I was from the Gresham field hospital and that I was trying to make my way back to our lines and wanted to get to Davis’ division, could he tell me where it lay. He did that promptly and said that the information I had given him about the enemy’s probable withdrawal from that part of the field was valuable and just what he and his comrades were scouting to find out.

I then went in the direction he told me Davis’ division lay and in a mile after crossing the railroad track which was high at this point, I came upon a camp and almost the first regiment was my own. I certainly was glad to get back home and I didn’t lose anytime in making it apparent that what I wanted most was something to eat and coffee-a barrel of it! I got pretty near all I asked for. I had a long talk with Major [Isaac M.] Kirby who was in command, and told him all about Colonels Stem and Wooster, and told him that I was within ten feet of Lieutenant Biddle of the colors company when he was killed. I relayed all that I had seen and experienced while at the hospital and on the way back and he in turn told me of the missing boys, some of whom he knew were in the hospital for I had told him. I also told him of the death of Sergeant Huntingdon who had been as we all supposed only slightly wounded, but who died from his wounds just the same. I did not tell the major that I had been paroled, however, and so I was allowed to outfit again, that is to have a musket or rifle and take my place in the ranks once more.

I had gotten back to my old regiment, my military home, and was glad of it. I reached it on the morning of the 3rd of January. Along about night, we got in line and marched into Murfreesboro. It was only four miles away, but we had to go very slow, feeling our way so to speak, and so did not arrive in town until about midnight. It might have been after that for all I know for we were so dead tired, worn out, and lousy that we were more fit for the hospital than for the cold, wet camp we marched into. We took up a position south of the town on the Shelbyville Pike. The camp was in open ground but all about us were woods. It was rather a low place and everything was wet. We had Sibley tents with the peaked top, but tents were not every plentiful and so the one my squad occupied was uncomfortably full. Sleeping we lay in a circle with our feet to the center of the tent. We were so close together that when we wanted to turn over we had to give the grand hailing sign ‘spoon to the right’ or on the left as the case may be.

General Jefferson C. Davis

[The 101st Ohio marched from Nashville, Tennessee on December 26, 1862 with 19 officers and 441 enlisted men in its ranks. By the end of the Battle of Stones River, Major Kirby reported 10 officers and 178 enlisted men present for duty, and another 15 present on detached service. Casualties totaled 229 killed and wounded: 15 killed, 122 wounded, and 92 missing.]

Columbian Arsenal Press


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