Chapter 1

It was with a heavy heart that I left the General that summer day. I knew it would be a long, hard and slow ride back to Texas. We had lost the war, and badly so. No one had expected the Blue Bellies to do what they did: they treated us as soldiers. We were able to keep our horses, weapons; and for us officers, even our sabers. It was a right decent thing of them to do. We just had to promise not to bear arms against them again. One look at the General, and you could see that would not be a consideration; at least, not in our lifetime.

Some folks either could or would not accept The Glorious Army of the Confederacy had been defeated; but we had been. In my considered opinion, those who fought on just either hated them Yankees or wanted to get rich quick. That’s all I had ever heard though. Even from Grandpa, everything was about how wonderful Frank, Cole and Jesse were and to make me promise to play Dixie and salute once a year, on Bill Quantrill’s day of dying. Oh, and to always remember that ‘the South will rise again.’ I guess he did not remember what Atlanta and Richmond were like now. He would die when I was twenty-three and Grandpa, while cognizant that the War Of Northern Aggression was over, still stood whenever Dixie was played. So did I, though. It was something we all grew up doing.

When the first companies of Texas soldiers reached Richmond, Virginia, CSA President Jefferson Davis greeted us with the words: “Texans! The troops of other states have their reputations to gain, but the sons of the defenders of the Alamo have theirs to maintain. I am assured that you will be faithful to the trust.”

I had the good fortune to serve with legends such as Confederate General Thomas Jonathan Jackson (January 21, 1824 to May 10, 1863 “Stonewall” to many) and the great cavalry General, James Ewell Brown Stuart (February 6, 1833 to May 12, 1864, J.E.B. better known as “Jeb”) who was originally a United States Army officer from Virginia and the great John Bell Hood (June 1 or June 29, 1831 to August 30, 1879) Who, at the start of the Civil War, offered his services to his adopted state of Texas.

Where General Lee went, any man worth his salt would follow. My Texas boys were damn sure the war would be over before we even got to Richmond. Guess it lasted a little longer than we thought. I was then Capt. J D Butler. By the last year of the War Of Northern Aggression I became a Major and was assigned as escort to General Lee himself. I think they did that cause I had my own horse and could read and write. But I may have digressed a might.

I wont bore you with all the could-a, would-a, should-a scenarios, suffice it to say we lost that war.

My remaining boys and I escorted the General back to Virginia. His home was now a Union graveyard and he now shared such losses that so many Southerners had to bear. I hoped I still had a home to back in Texas. It was still there according to the letter my Ma and Pa had sent me a couple years before. Once the General was settled in we was on our way home. I had with me eleven of my original troop out of the hundred and twenty-five or so that had left with me from Texas. Over 70,000 Texans served in the Confederate army and Texas regiments fought in every major battle throughout the war. Some men were veterans of the Mexican-American War; a few had served in the earlier Texas Revolution. Texas had furnished forty-five regiments of cavalry, twenty-three regiments of infantry, twelve battalions of cavalry, four battalions of infantry, five regiments of heavy artillery and thirty batteries of light artillery for the Confederacy.

Among the most famous units were Terry’s Texas Rangers (a group of frontier cavalrymen, many of whom later became peacekeepers in the Old West), “Walker’s Greyhounds,” the Texas 33rd Cavalry Regiment and “The Texas Brigade” (aka “Hood’s Brigade”), a brigade composed mainly of Texas regiments augmented by the 18th Georgia Infantry, and the 3rd Arkansas Infantry, and originally commanded by John Bell Hood.

Known as the ‘shock troops’ of the Army of Northern Virginia, (Hood’s) Texas Brigade were favored by General Robert E. Lee and, on more than one occasion, he praised their fighting qualities, remarking that none had brought greater honor to their native state than ‘my Texans’. Texas men suffered severe casualties in a number of fights, most notably at the Battle of Antietam, against the North’s ‘Iron Brigade’, and at Gettysburg, where they assaulted Houck’s Ridge and then Little Round Top.

We had seen good times, bad times and too many hard times together, but we would return together with our heads held high. All in all we were a sorry bunch, though. How splendid we had looked, how proud in our gray uniforms and horses aligned by colors as we rode off to the war. That was not the way we were going home though. We were lucky to have anything to ride, let alone worry what color it was. The Yankees made certain we at least had a horse to take General Lee back. I think that Grant fellow made certain of that. We all gave thanks to him for that, for it was a long trip home.

For the initial part of the trip home, we were treated fairly and many shared what little they had with us. Sgt. Williams had relieved some mementos (money and gold) from the Yankees near war’s end. He had secured a couple of payrolls of gold coins and bars. We all were careful as to what we spent on the way. When we could, we made certain those who had shared what little they had with us found a small gift to help them out some. It was not a lot, but twenty or so eagles (ten dollars each) to someone who had nothing would make all the difference to them, even saving the farm from the carpetbaggers who tried to step in after we lost the war.

We tried to maintain order and discipline and adhere to the codes of honor we had all grown up with. Each of those who lived through this nightmare called war, knew that was the only reason we even got to this point. We sure as Hell weren’t going to change now. Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina were not what they once were, though. We also had no fun, a time or two, while crossing the border states. No one died but I don’t think many took kindly to us. We even considered heading through Indian Territory instead to reach Texas.

We finally got into Tennessee, and we thought the worst would be over. After all, the rest of our journey would be within areas that had been part of the CSA. Nope, not by a long shot.

The Confederate Army of Tennessee, under Gen. Braxton Bragg, had lost Chattanooga, Tennessee to the then Maj. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant. Now, even if the war was now over, bitterness still festered; especially since Bragg’s defeat eliminated the last Confederate control of Tennessee and opened the door to an invasion of the Deep South, leading to Sherman’s Campaign of 1864 and his subsequent March to the Sea.

As I earlier indicated, we had seen good times, bad times and too many hard times together; but we never forgot who we were and how we had been raised. The sound of the boy being lashed, and a girl’s crying and trying to fight off the two men holding her, just tore into all of us. Texans did not harm civilians and certainly not women and children no matter how bad things could be. That sight and sound brought out an instant response from us all. Before the smoke from our revolvers could clear, five men, and I use the term loosely, lay dead on the ground. The little girl cradled the boy in her arms. We later learned he was her younger brother. It never crossed anyone’s mind if they were Pro Union or Confederate Sympathizers, all we saw were two kids near being killed or raped.

The girl looked up at us. We were still mounted. “Don’t hurt him anymore, mister. I’ll be yours if you just leave him be. We have lost everything, already, and I can’t let him die now.”

I don’t think there was a dry eye anywhere. I dismounted, went up to them and knelt down. “No one is going to harm him or you, Missy! If we were back home though, I don’t think any man there would refuse anything a pretty girl like you offered, though. Best not say something like that too often, okay?”

Even with the tears and sobbing, just looking at her you knew she was going to be a heart stopper, if she wasn’t one already.

“Let’s get you two home Missy. Just why the Hell were these yahoos trying to tear you apart?”

“Gee, you got to be from somewhere else mister. Around here, once we lost the war, every male thinks any female they see is fair game and will spread her legs for them. You see what they did to little Johnny when he tried to protect me, and he is only ten.”

“Missy, we might have lost the war but what those fools were trying to do to you just isn’t right. I hope you will be all right when we leave. We’ll get you home and leave your Ma and Pa a little something to get by on. Okay?”

“Flowers on their grave might be the kindest thing you can do for them. We’ve been living on the streets and in the woods at night trying to just survive, so if you might have extra food or a blanket that would be much appreciated.”

I looked around. Corporal Smith and our bugler, Billy were already getting two of the best looking horses the dead men had. Some found money went into the saddlebags and several side arms, both rifles, ammo, blankets, food and ‘what not’ were placed on the other horses we took and our already loaded pack mules to carry. Sgt. Williams carefully lifted the boy up onto one horse after asking him if he was strong enough to ride. His answer made up everyone’s mind, that we would not leave these two behind. “I am a man, Sir! If I can still breathe, I can ride.”