Chapter VIII

GALVESTON.
(1861-1865.)

1. A BUFFALO HUNT.

The early months of the year 1861 in Texas were like one long holiday. The country was dotted with white tents where the recruits were encamped, and where, amid bursts of martial music and in all the glory of brand new uniforms, the untried volunteers received their mothers and sisters, and showed them with pride “how soldiers live in time of war.”

Every few days one of these camps would be broken up, the tents and camp baggage would be loaded on wagons, and the “boys” would march to the nearest town. There the whole population would be gathered to greet them; a flag would be presented to them by the hand of some bright-eyed girl, loud cheers would echo on the air, and the company would tramp steadily away to take its place in the fighting ranks of the Confederate States army.

Many of these soldiers carried their negro body-servants with them; all had abundant stores of clothing and bedding, and of those little comforts and luxuries that only mothers know how to provide. Their young faces were eager, their eyes were sparkling, and if there were sobs in their throats as they said those last good-byes, the sobs were smothered in the ringing cheers which mingled with the notes of “Dixie” or “The Bonnie Blue Flag.”

They were soon to learn in many a tentless camp, on many a foot-sore march, on many a bloody and hard-fought field, how soldiers really live in time of war.

But the days as yet were like one long holiday, although mother-hearts ached in secret dread, and the scarred veterans of the Texan revolution and of the Mexican War were filled with inward forebodings for the future.

People along the frontier had been talking for some time about a great buffalo hunt which was to take place that winter in the Pan Handle. John R. Baylor, a noted hunter and scout, had, it was said, raised more than a thousand men to go on this hunt, and a great many scouts and Indian fighters had joined him. Among them was Ben McCulloch, who had done such gallant service in Mexico under General Taylor.

The buffalo hunt did not take place; but Colonel Ben McCulloch, with the buffalo hunters, a thousand or more strong, appeared in San Antonio on the 15th of February (1861).

General David E. Twiggs, United States army, was at that time in command of the troops in Texas. San Antonio was the most important of the United States army posts in the southwest; a large amount of military stores was in the arsenal, and soldiers were kept there ready to march at need to the relief of the frontier forts.

Colonel McCulloch, acting under orders of commissioners from Austin, demanded the surrender of all military posts and supplies in the State of Texas. General Twiggs on the 18th of February made a formal surrender of the department. The United States troops were paroled and marched to Indianola on the coast, where the _Star of the West_, an unarmed United States steamer, was waiting to take them home.

But when they reached Indianola (18th of April) the _Star of the West_ and the gunboat _Mohawk_, which had been guarding her, had both disappeared. The officer in command was in a quandary. He did not know what to do. At length he placed his troops on two schooners and sailed across the Matagorda Bay to the Gulf.

In the meantime, on the 12th of April, at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, the first gun of the Civil War had been fired. The struggle between the States had begun.

General Earl Van Dorn, of the Confederate army, was at this time in command of the military department of Texas. His headquarters were at Galveston. The island which the pirate Lafitte had left lone and deserted when he sailed away in the _Pride_ now teemed with a busy and prosperous people. The huts of Campeachy were replaced by stately mansions, and beautiful gardens bloomed where sandy wastes had been.

Several companies of soldiers were encamped without the city, awaiting marching orders. General Van Dorn entered the camp one day, and after a brief speech called for volunteers for an expedition which he was about to undertake. The Galveston Artillery, the Island City Rifles, and an Irish company called the Wigfall Guards, at once stepped forward, eager for duty.

The next night (17th of April), about midnight, the steamboat _General Rusk_, with these volunteers on board, drew up alongside the _Star of the West_, lying in the Gulf of Mexico, off Indianola. Captain Howe, of the United States steamer, hearing himself hailed, came on deck, and supposing these to be the United States troops he was expecting, he politely ordered the _General Rusk_ to be made fast to his own boat. In a twinkling the Confederate soldiers were aboard of the _Star of the West_ demanding its surrender.

“To what flag am I asked to surrender?” asked the astonished captain. Ensign Duggan of the Wigfall Guards displayed the Lone Star flag of Texas, and in his richest brogue exclaimed: “That’s it! Look at it, me byes. Did ye iver see the Texas flag on an Irish jackstaff before?”[38]

Captain Howe, having neither arms nor soldiers, surrendered, and the _Star of the West_ followed the _General Rusk_ to Galveston.

This was why the United States troops the next morning (April 18) found no steamer to carry them away. The two schooners upon which they embarked were also captured several days later, having on board eight hundred officers and men, with three hundred fine rifles and a large quantity of camp supplies.

But the Confederacy had no means of protecting the long stretch of Texas coast. In July a blockading squadron—that is, a fleet of armed vessels to prevent ships from entering or leaving the harbor—was stationed in the Gulf off Galveston, and in a short time the whole coast was closely guarded.

In the fall of 1861 Frank R. Lubbock, who has been called the “war governor” of Texas, was elected governor. By the close of his term ninety thousand Texan soldiers were in the Confederate army.

Early in 1862 a Texas brigade, under General Sibley, was defeated by the Union forces in New Mexico, and forced to retreat to San Antonio with a loss of five hundred men.

In October of the same year the Confederates, unable to hold Galveston, surrendered that place to Commodore Eagle of the blockading squadron, and withdrew to Virginia Point on the mainland about six miles distant. Many of the citizens of the town also left their homes; and amid a silence almost as profound as that in which Lafitte landed on the island nearly fifty years before, several hundred soldiers stepped ashore from their boats and took possession of the place. The United States flag was hoisted on the Custom-house; the soldiers settled into their quarters on one of the wharves; the imposing vessels of the Federal squadron filled the bay and the harbor. A mournful cry echoed throughout Texas: “Galveston has fallen!”

2. THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.

The holiday look had long since disappeared from Texas. No battles had been fought within her borders, but the blood of her brave sons had dyed the sod of many a battlefield elsewhere. For the deadly conflict was raging. The North and the South, fighting as brother against brother, were pouring out their kindred blood day by day; the smoke of their hostile guns darkened the very heavens. Many heroic deeds were done on both sides—deeds which to-day thrill us with wonder and admiration.

But there were frightful gaps in the ranks of those who had marched away from Texas to the tune of “Dixie” or “The Bonnie Blue Flag.” The gallant lads who had showed off their brave uniforms in the holiday camps were tramping about, barefoot, ragged, and hungry, in Virginia, in Tennessee, in Georgia,—wherever there was an enemy to be attacked or an outpost to be held.

Their mothers and sisters at home were making lint and cartridges, weaving and wearing homespun, making their own shoes and gloves, and cheering the far-away “boys” with letters and with home-made gifts, and praying, praying always.

There were few able-bodied men left in the state. The women with the old men and boys, aided by the negroes who remained loyal and trustworthy, made the crops. As the war went on the prices of everything rose. Old bills show that forty dollars a yard (Confederate money) was paid for calico for a little girl’s “best” dress; and seventy-five dollars was paid for a boy’s first pair of boots. A war-time arithmetic has among its examples the following:

“A cavalryman paid 200 dollars for his pistol and 4000 dollars for his horse; how much did both cost him?”

“At 20 dollars a pound, how much coffee can you buy for 40 dollars?”

“If one hat costs 120 dollars, how much would eight hats cost?”

Coffee and tea were replaced by drinks made of parched potatoes, or burnt peas, and sassafras roots. The real articles which were brought into the country occasionally by blockade-runners were known as “blockade” coffee and tea, and were kept for the use of the sick.

The blockade-runners were very daring and confident. Captain Henry Sherffius of Houston, among others, was noted for his skill in slipping through the line of big ships on watch along the coast of Texas. Once, when he was leaving on one of his trips, he was so sure of himself and his boat that he invited his friends to come to his wedding on a certain day some weeks later. He came back at the appointed time, bringing with him his wedding-cakes, baked in Vera Cruz, Mexico.

The Mississippi River rolled, a wide barrier, between the two parts of the Confederacy. Its banks were lined with Federal sharp-shooters, and its yellow waters were dotted with Federal gunboats. It was difficult to get news from the eastern side, where the greater part of the fighting was done, and terrible were the times of waiting between the first rumors of a battle and the receipt of the lists of the killed and wounded. A noble and patriotic citizen of Houston, E. H. Cushing, rendered a priceless service to Texas in this matter. He was at that time and had been for years the editor of the _Houston Telegraph_. His energy and his devotion to the Confederate cause were unceasing. He established a pony express between the seat of war—wherever that chanced to be—and Texas. His messengers somehow managed to get through the lines when no one else could do so. They went and came, carrying and bringing papers and dispatches, and above all, precious letters from the boys in gray. Mr. Cushing’s express also “ran” to Brownsville.

At the close of the war this true patriot supplied money from his private purse, not only to broken-down and crippled home-coming Confederate soldiers, but to the home-going Federal prisoners from Camp Ford.[39]

The _Telegraph_ came out daily throughout the war, some of its later numbers being printed on coarse yellow, red, and blue paper.

Amid all the anxiety and hardship there was no thought of giving up. The men of the South believed themselves to be fighting for a just cause; the Northern soldiers were equally sincere in their convictions. And so the war, grim and terrible, went on.

In the fall of 1862 General Magruder, Confederate States army, assumed command of the Trans-Mississippi (that is, west of the Mississippi) Department. He determined at once to attempt the recapture of Galveston. He went to Virginia Point, where the Confederate troops were camped, and there with great caution and secrecy made his plans.

At the head of Galveston Bay, the _Neptune_ and the _Bayou City_, two small steamboats, were bulwarked with cotton bales, mounted with cannon, and manned with sharp-shooters from the Confederate States cavalry and artillery. The _Lady Gwinn_ and the _John F. Carr_ were detailed to accompany these vessels as tenders. This crude fleet was commanded by Captain Leon Smith who had served in the navy of the Texas Republic.

About midnight on the 31st of December, the boats moved down the bay to a position above the town, where they quietly awaited General Magruder’s signal gun.

Magruder had already crossed his troops to the island. They marched swiftly through the deserted streets of the city, and, by the light of a waning moon, planted their batteries. At five o’clock on New Year’s morning, 1863, the attack began. It was a complete surprise to the Federals.

The ships of the blockading fleet, under the command of Commodore Renshaw, were nearly all within the bay. The _Harriet Lane_, commanded by Commodore Wainwright, was lying near the wharf. At a little distance was the iron-clad _Westfield_, Commodore Renshaw’s flag-ship, attended by the _Owasco_; still further out were the armed vessels, the _Clifton_ and the _Sachem_, and the barges the _Elias Park_ and the _Cavallo_.

The war-ships answered the fire of Magruder’s batteries with a terrific hail of iron; once the Confederate gunners were driven from their guns. But the _Neptune_ and the _Bayou City_ steamed up to the _Harriet Lane_ and attacked her at close quarters, pouring a hot fire into her from behind the rampart of cotton bales.

The _Neptune_ with a hole in her hull made by a cannon-ball soon sank in shallow water. The _Bayou City_ was also disabled. The Confederate sharp-shooters leaped on board the _Harriet Lane_, and, after a bloody fight on her deck, captured her.[40] Commodore Wainwright was killed early in the action. First Lieutenant Lea was mortally wounded.

The Union infantry made a gallant resistance to the land attack, but they were finally obliged to surrender.

The _Sachem_, the _Clifton_, and the _Owasco_ stood out to sea and escaped. The _Westfield_ ran aground and was blown up to prevent her capture. Commodore Renshaw and his officers had left the vessel, but their boats were too near when the explosion took place prematurely, and they perished with her. The _Harriet Lane_ and the barges, with several hundred prisoners, remained in the hands of the victors.

The loss in this battle on the Confederate side was twelve killed and seventy wounded. The Federals lost one hundred and fifty killed and many wounded.

Among the mortally wounded were two young soldiers, the story of whose death even yet stirs the heart to pity. One fell fighting under the starry cross of the Confederacy. The other dropped on the bloody deck of the _Harriet Lane_ under the shadow of the stars and stripes. The Confederate was Lieutenant Sidney Sherman, son of the gallant veteran, General Sidney Sherman, who led the infantry charge at San Jacinto. The lieutenant was hardly more than a boy. The blood oozed from his wounds as he lay dying, but the smile of victory parted his lips. Suddenly his blue eyes grew soft and tender; “Break this gently to my mother,” he whispered. These were his last words.

The young Union soldier was Edward Lea, first lieutenant of the _Harriet Lane_. His wounds were also fatal. But as his life was ebbing away he heard his name spoken in a tone of agony. He opened his eyes. His father, Major Lea of the Confederate army, was kneeling beside him. Father and son had fought on opposite sides that dark New Year’s morning. The pale face of the young lieutenant lighted with joy; and when a little later the surgeon told him he had but a moment to live, he answered with the confidence of a little child and with his latest breath, “My father is here.”

The two lads cold in death rested almost side by side on their funeral biers that day,—brothers in death, brothers forever in the memory of those who looked upon their calm young faces.

Lieutenant Lea and Commodore Wainwright were buried with military honors from General Magruder’s headquarters, Major Lea reading the service for the burial of the dead.

The body of young Sherman was carried to his beloved mother, who in her home on the bay had listened with a beating heart to the cannonading of the battle in which her son’s brave young life had ended.

3. HOME AGAIN.

A small earthwork called Fort Griffin had been built by the Confederates on the Texas side of Sabine Pass at the mouth of the Sabine River. It was protected by five light guns and garrisoned by the Davis Guards, a company from Houston commanded by Captain Odlum. The first lieutenant of the company was Dick Dowling, an Irishman but twenty years of age.

Fort Griffin, though small, was a place of much importance. Sabine Pass was a sort of outlet for the pent-up Confederacy. Blockade-runners, in spite of the Federal ships stationed in the Gulf, were always slipping out of the Sabine River, loaded with cotton for Cuba or Europe, and stealing in with arms and supplies from Mexico.

Soon after the battle of Galveston, Major Oscar Watkins, Confederate States navy, was sent by General Magruder with two cotton-clad steamboats, the _Josiah Bell_ and the _Uncle Ben_, to annoy the blockading fleet at Sabine Pass. After a skirmish and an exciting chase, he succeeded in capturing two United States ships, the _Velocity_ and the _Morning Light_ (January 21, 1863).

The United States then determined to take Fort Griffin and land at Sabine Pass a force large enough to overawe that part of the country. Twenty-two transports carried the land troops, about fifteen thousand in number, to the Pass. Four gunboats, the _Sachem_, the _Clifton_, the _Arizona_, and the _Granite City_, accompanied them, to bombard the fort and cover the landing of the soldiers. The expedition was under the command of General Franklin.

When this formidable fleet appeared at Sabine Pass, Captain Odlum was absent and Lieutenant Dowling was in command of Fort Griffin. His whole force consisted of forty-two men. He ordered the “Davys,” as they were called, to stay in the bombproofs until he himself should fire the first gun. Then, hidden by the earthwork, he watched the approach of the gunboats.

The _Clifton_ steamed in and opened the attack from her pivot gun, throwing a number of shells which dropped into the fort and exploded. The _Sachem_ and the _Arizona_ followed, pouring in broadsides from their thirty-two-pound cannon.

No reply came from the fort, which seemed to be deserted. The gunboats came nearer and nearer. Suddenly a shot from the fort clove the air and fell hissing into the water beyond the _Arizona_. The fight at once became furious. The _Clifton_ and the _Arizona_ moved backward and forward, vomiting huge shells which tore the earthwork of the fort and filled the air with dust. Ships and fort seemed wrapped in flame. The _Sachem_ meanwhile was stealing into the Pass toward the unprotected rear of the fort. But a well-aimed shot from Dowling’s battery struck her, crushing her iron plating and causing her to rise on end and quiver like a leaf in the wind. She was at the mercy of the fort, and her flag was instantly lowered. The _Clifton_ kept up the fight with great skill and bravery. But she soon ran aground in the shallows, where she continued to fire until a shot passed through her boiler, completely wrecking her. A white flag was run up at her bow, and the battle was over. The _Arizona_ and the _Granite City_ steamed out to the transports, whose men had watched the fight with breathless interest.

The fleet at once retired, leaving the _Sachem_ and the _Clifton_ to the “Davys.”[41]

Three hundred Union soldiers were taken prisoners. Captain Crocker of the _Clifton_ came ashore with a boat’s crew, and, mounting the parapet, asked for the commanding officer. Lieutenant Dowling, covered with the dust of the fort, presented himself as the person sought.

The gallant Federal in his handsome uniform could hardly believe that this dirty little boy was his conqueror, or that the handful of men before him comprised the force which had so calmly awaited a hostile fleet and defeated it.[42]

Eight months afterward the United States gunboats, the _Granite City_ and the _Wave_, were captured at Sabine Pass.

In November and December, 1863, General Banks took possession of the Texas coast, protecting it with a land force from Brownsville to Indianola. Within a short time, however, he withdrew his troops, leaving only a garrison at Brownsville. But the cruel war was fast drawing to a close. The Confederate army, thinned in ranks and in need of food, as well as of powder and of shot, could no longer be maintained. There were no men to take the place of those who fell in battle; the untilled fields gave no harvests; the coasts were so guarded that the most reckless blockade-runner, could no longer get in with supplies. On the 9th of April, 1865, General Robert E. Lee, commander-in-chief of the Confederate army, surrendered to General U. S. Grant at Appomattox Court House in Virginia.

Before this news reached Texas the last skirmish of the war had taken place near Brownsville (April 13) between some of Banks’ soldiers and a party of Confederates. The scene of this skirmish was the old battlefield of Palo Alto.

On the 30th of May Generals Kirby Smith and Magruder went on board the United States ship _Fort Jackson_ at Galveston and made a formal surrender of the Trans-Mississippi Department.

On the 19th of June General Granger, United States army, took command at the island and announced the freedom of the negroes.

The great Civil War was over.

Several thousand Texans lost their lives in the Confederate States army during the four years’ war. Among the distinguished dead were General John Gregg, first general of Hood’s brigade, Colonels Tom Lubbock and Tom Green, the famous scout Ben McCulloch, General Granbury, Colonel Rogers, and many others. To these may be added General Albert Sidney Johnston, always claimed by Texas as her son, and who in death rests upon her bosom.

The war was over. The ragged, foot-sore, hungry soldiers who had so proudly worn the gray began to come home. Many who had gone away round-faced boys came back lank and hollow-eyed men. Many were maimed and crippled; many were sick; all were forlorn and discouraged. They saw with despair their weed-grown fields, their dilapidated houses, and rotting fences. The wives and mothers, whose husbands and sons had laid down their lives for a lost cause, looked at the more fortunate wives and mothers whose husbands and sons had been spared to them, and wept. And all wondered how they could ever take up their ruined lives again.

But time is merciful. The gloom did not last always. The Blue and the Gray clasped hands before many years had passed, and once more the Lone Star of Texas blazed in a cloudless sky.