Remembering "Old Pat" Cleburne
Nearly 30 years after his death at the Battle of Franklin, the veterans of General Patrick Cleburne’s old division enjoyed sharing stories about their beloved commander. “General Cleburne was a gallant soldier, a hard fighter, always kind and courteous to his men, who almost worshipped him, and who believed "old Pat" could whip all creation,” remembered Private T.O. Moore of the 7th Texas Infantry who served under Cleburne’s command for the better part of a year. “Had he lived and the war continued, he was bound to have risen to great distinction as an officer. He and General Granbury were killed near the breastworks at the battle of Franklin, Tennessee, and the Confederacy lost two of her best officers.”
Private Moore’s reminiscences of General Cleburne first saw publication in the July 2, 1893 edition of the New Orleans Picayune.
Comanche, Texas, June 12, 1893
Editor of The Picayune:
I send
you a few incidents of the life of General Pat, Cleburne, which I have never
seen in print, and which may be of interest to your many readers and the
members of his old division. General Cleburne was a gallant soldier, a hard
fighter, always kind and courteous to his men, who almost worshipped him, and
who believed "old Pat" could whip all creation.
In the
fall of 1864, Cleburne's division was thrown with a portion of the army across
the Coosa River, above Rome, Georgia, and started across the mountains of the
North Georgia to the railroad leading to Atlanta. We were cut off from our
supply trains and had to live off the country through which we passed. Apples,
chestnuts, and persimmons were plenty, so we did pretty well. Strict orders had
been issued that we must not depredate upon private property. One morning on
leaving camp, General Hiram Granbury's brigade led the column. I was badly
crippled from sore feet and could not keep up with the command, so on this
particular morning, I had special permission to march at the head of the
brigade.
I was
trudging along the best I could just in the rear of General Granbury's horse,
when I saw down the road General Cleburne sitting on the top of a rail fence
smoking a cob pipe. Below, on the ground, were five or six bushels of fine red
apples. Near by stood one or two of his aides; also five or six
"web-foot" soldiers, who looked as mean as they well could look. As
we drew near, General Granbury saluted General Cleburne, who in his turn said:
"General Granbury, I am peddling apples to-day." General Granbury
said: "How are you selling them, General?" General Cleburne replied:
"Those gentlemen (pointing to the web-feet, who had stolen the apples) have
been very kind. They have gathered the apples for me and charged nothing. I
will give them to you and your men. Now, you get down and take an apple, and
have each of your men pass by and take one-only, one, mind you-until they are
all gone." This was done. In the meantime, the boys were hurrahing for old
Pat. When the apples gave out, General Cleburne made each man who had stolen
the apples carry a rail for a mile or two. Old Pat enjoyed the thing as much as
did his men.
On this
same raid we struck the railroad leading to Atlanta, and orders were given to
destroy the same. One evening General Cleburne ordered Granbury's Brigade out
to help do the work. We were strung along the track as near together as we well
could stand. General Cleburne then got out in front and said: "Attention,
men! When I say ready, let every man stoop down, take hold of the rails, and
when I say 'heave to', let every man lift all he can and turn the rails and
cross-ties over."
When the
command was given by old Pat, a thousand men or more bent their backs and took
hold of the iron; then came the command, "heave ho!" With a yell up
we came with rails and crossties, and over they went. The ties were then
knocked loose, rails taken apart, crossties piled up and fired, and on them was
placed the iron which, when red hot, was bent in all kinds of shapes. Some of
the iron was bent around the trees. We worked a good part of the night
destroying the road, which did but little good, however, as the boys in blue
soon fixed it up again.
During
the campaign around Atlanta our company was out on picket. Just before we were
relieved in the morning our company killed a fat cow, and we managed to bring a
quarter into camp. As we were expecting to move at any time, we cut up the beef
in chunks, built a scaffold and spread the meat on it, them built a fire and
were cooking it so we could take it with us. We were all busy working at it
when one of our company looked up and saw old Pat coming down the line on a
tour of inspection. We had no time to hide the beef, and knew we were in for
it. One of the company stepped out and saluted the General, and said:
"General, we have some nice, fat beef cooking, and it is about done; come
and eat dinner with us." "Well," he replied, "it does smell
good. I believe I will."
He sat down on log, one of the boys took a nice piece of beef from the fire, another hunted a pone of corn bread and handed it to him. The General ate quite heartily, thanked us for the dinner, took out his cob pipe, filled it and began to smoke, chatting pleasantly with us, asking what we thought of our position, and if we thought we could whip the fight, if we had one, and then passed on down the line, while we cheered him. How could we help admiring him? Had he lived and the war continued, he was bound to have risen to great distinction as an officer. He and General Granbury were killed near the breastworks at the battle of Franklin, Tennessee, and the Confederacy lost two of her best officers.
Source:
“Anecdotes of General Cleburne,” Private T. O. Moore, Co. F, 7th Texas Volunteer Infantry, Granbury's Brigade, Cleburne's Division, Army of Tennessee, New Orleans Picayune (Louisiana), July 2, 1893
Thanks for including a post about Pat Cleburne. He's a favorite Confederate general.
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