Reverend Sam Hugh Whatley is my Great Uncle on my
Father's side. During his Ministry, which began when he was 34 years
old in 1880, he rode 14 circuits and began 13 Methodist churches. His
heritage of ministry began with his grandfather, Reverend William
Wesley Whatley who became a Methodist Evangelist, no doubt because of
the influence of John Wesley, Father of Methodism, who had traveled
on
the same ship from England, the "Symmonds", with Reverend William
Wesley's Father and Mother, Phineas and Amy Hobbs Whatley.
However, before Sam Hugh became a minister, he went through a time
of difficulty during which he developed the character and spiritual
strength which later served him so well as a Minister. When he was 17
years old, Sam Hugh went off to join the Union to fight in the Civil
War.
In the following story, I will add, day by day, the continuing
narrative of Sam Hugh Whatley, his love of his country, his love of
his family, and his love of his God. I will not correct spelling, but
will edit the grammer to better affect the flow of the narrative. He
was a man with limited schooling, but with a natural ability to write
from his own heart. By sharing this emotional and touching chapter of
Sam Hugh's life, I feel we can all learn a little more of America's
History and why we celebrate our Fourth of July.
MOURNFUL MEMORIES OF THE CIVIL WAR
By Samuel Hugh Whatley
(1846-1911)
The day was cold in the month of February 1864; the place was called
"Rocky Ford" on funnie Louise in Catahoula Parish amid a deep tuneled
forest that had many years previous been deadened by girdling the
massive beech, gum, magnolia & oak, whose proud forms had fallen in
tangled mass, forming a rendevous for serpents, wild beasts and
fiercely
driven men.
On this gray cold day, may have been heard the sound of a distant
voice on a hillside calling cattle in the old French terms,
"cha-cha-La-bash!" which was answered by a voice in friendly moo of a
hungry cow. Soon these voices calling and answering brought together
two
forms of men, an old gray haired, reverent, sober looking father, and a
young, rudy faced stripling not quite 18 years old, with fresh blood
quickly flushing his almost frostbitten cheeks as he stept forth from
the thick, tangled underbrush and greting his father, asked, "How are
all?"
"All well, my son, thus far! Your mother has sent you this roll of
blankets, fearing this intense COLD, with provisions for a week.
"We have been severely threatened that if you do not come in and give
yourself up, that they will burn our home - confiscate all that we
have."
"But Father, for Brother's sake, who so bravely fights for this
cause, will they not spare you and give me the liberty of my conscience
and not distroy my Mother's home and my sister's pleasure?"
"No, they swear to search for you with blood hounds, and to bring you
forth to suffer as a traitor to your country, and we seem powerless to
evade. They are watching my every move and I may not see you again
without jeopardizing both our lives."
"Then come no more, Father; leave me in the care of God and a clear
conscience.
"Farewell!"
"At the end of the week, see the hollow pin oak north of the Casey
field!"
With these low spoken words, father & son parted.
The father, venerable minister of the gospel, beginning to bend with
the weight of his three score years, wearily casting a glance at his
son, as he gathers up his bundle of blankets and provisions, saying,
"Father, I'll go home and fight them till I perish and am consumed with
the burning house."
"No, my son, oh no, no, nothing rash, but commune with your own heart
and with God - farewill!"
Oh these dreary weeks of waiting, none but God can fully know, Whose
precious work I read and studdied day after day. Was I lonley? No, I
toiled with bottany & zoology in the forest and among the beasts. I
coursed the honey bee in his instinctive search in nature's supply for
his divinly appointed food, and the wild bird song charmed me from any
gloomy mood. Whoes voices I learned to mimic and whoes lucious eggs and
flesh furnished food gratification and vigor -- These days were not
dull, but full of ominous sounds and suspense until I longed to see if
gables of the old home stood or if ashes marked the place of my loved
ones.
This is the first installment of Sam Hugh's story and I hope
you will return to read whether he became a victim of the southern
conscription or whether he was able to join the Union army as his
conscience had led him. Was his home burned and his mother's heart
broken by the confederacy in their zeal for a country of their own? I
will be adding to this story and will indicate each installment as it
is
added on my "Welcome" page of The Circuit Rider. I hope you will return
to learn of Sam Hugh's ongoing adventure and life.
top
Installment #2
The danger of passing a public highway and a three miles perilous
clearing warned for several days, but overcome at last, I took up my
trusted rifle. Breathing a prayer to God for the safety of my loved
ones, I went cautiously forth, keeping to the deep ravines between the
hills, sheltring beneath the under brush, I moved homeward to perhaps a
homeless home.
More than half the distance passed when the sudden cry of a startled
bird directed my eyes to the moving form of a man whose name has long
been forgotten and was only known then as one of treatchery. Watching
his movement, I soon saw he was following a slowly moving ox waggon
which soon overtaking, he seem to converse freely with the driver whom
I
recognized as my fathers faithful old servan, Simon, who seemed nervous
and affected. My feeling prompted me to approach, but my better
judgment
to caution, so I lingered out of sight until this namless man made away
in a swaggering gallop.
Before the ox driver had driven far, a low whistle caused him to stop
and listen. Catching the sound again, he lifted his hand to his mouth
indicating silence, then stooping, came running toward me. "Oh, Sammie
child! Why are you here? They are after you with dogs!"
"How is father, mother, home?"
"They are all there; they will not burn the house, but they are
watching to catch you, child, and they will catch you now. A man just
left me who said they would have you if you are the top side of earth,
and they have a pack of vicious blood hounds led by an old Brindle
Bitch
who has caut many a man. Fly child, fly for your liff. Cross water,
deep
water, running water as they will surely get. Then, God pitty, Oh Lord
help!"
"Simon, don't be afraid. Do you know that they will not harm my
father?"
"They told me that for your brother's sake, they would not hurt the
folks, but they wanted you dead or alive. That man searched my waggon
sawyd I had carried you provisions. His gone now for gang of men and
dogs and they will get your track! What shall we do? What shall we do?"
"Trust in God, Uncle Sime, and leave it all to Him. Tell them all,
I'm well and safe. Good-by."
And with a step quicking by danger, I moved hurriedly back to my
strong hold. Fearing I should lose my wind and nerves in flight, I kept
a steady gait for some time.
A little thunder shower began to fall this April, reviving me and I
rejoiced in my hope of escape, when the horrid sound of trailing hound
struck my ear. Less than half mile would give me some chance of escape.
Can I make the distance? A few moments brought me to a strait cow trail
leading to their watering place. The frightening cry of a Brindle
man-hunter was getting closer and closer. By stopping to catch my
breath
and still my nerves, I saw them strike the narrow trail with the old
Brindle in the lead. Breathing a prayer, I caught the bead on my trusty
rifle and touched the triger. I saw the Brindle leader fall and made a
leap for liberty.
Sam Hugh was still being hunted, but had managed to stop the
famous Brindle hound. Will he continue to elude the Confederate
conscriptionists? Join me tomorrow to learn of Sam's fate as he
continues to hide out with hopes of joining the Union army. For those
who are familiar with Civil War history, that hope would seem to be dim
since Sam Hugh Whatley was deep in Louisiana and far away from the
heart
of the Union.
top
Installment #3
In the hush that followed, I heard nothing but the fall of my feet
and the throb of my own heart beat. Reaching my retreat, I gladly sat
down to commune with my heart of the day's glad news and escape from my
enemies. Why had they not followed? Why had the remaining dogs not been
pressed to follow my trail? All these questions echo unanswered until
exhausted, I fell asleep. "As the Hart panteth for the water brook, so
my soul panteth after Thee."
Psalm 42:1
In the morning light, my Bible opened to the 37th Psalm, which with
yesterday's experience, I gladly adopted as my mottoe, at least for the
day. Fresh honey and a good cool drink of spring water is a wholesome
breakfast.
This was to have been rashon day at the "Pin Oak" but for the
huntsman and hounds. Will they make the venture? And should they come,
will they not be watching and the place of the deposit marked and
guarded? All these questions made me plead for no provisions. In the
middle of the afternoon, moving within earshot of the hollow tree, I
waited and listened when suddenly I heard childdish voices some
distance
from me. They were out in an old pine field and up in the top, one boy
waved a white handkerchief. I devined its meaning to be good since,
coming near, I gave a whistle which brought one runnin in the direction
I was. Soon my little twin brother was in my arms.
"They are all gone. They had a fight about a dead dog and went away,
taking some poor min tied with them. We brought you some dinner and a
note. It is under the old wallnut tree. Poor brother, go eat something
before you starve."
I knew the last word was the often expressed fears of my dear old
mother. Finding the package more to devour the note than the edibles, I
quickly retired to a point of safety.
Dear One,
We hear that the union army has captured
Alexandria and are moving on up Red River. Within their lines, the
Stars and Stripes wave, but Oh the danger through which we must pass
to reach the protection of their silken folds. Simon told us that he
saw you yesterday and told you of the blood hounds, but we heard this
morning that the worst one was shot and killed and the Captain cursed
some of the men so viciously that they fell to fighting among
themselves. Two or three was badly hurt. The man who led in the hunt
had his arm and collar bone broken. How God has made the wrath of man
to praise him! Simon said the dogs must have been on your track and
this is what saved you. Oh, I would be so glad to see my boy once
more. Your father is on his Circuit. We look for him tomorrow. Watch
and pray.
Your Mother.
My heart stirred with rapid beats of joy, "Old Glory" within thirty
miles of where I had watched so many long days in suspense, and good
providence would lead me to safety. Could I be content to watch and
wait
another day or must my desires take wings and fly to helpful friends
where I could be numbered with the friends of my beloved country? I
read
my mother's note again. Father comes tomorrow. He will know of the army
lines. We will see what a day may bring forth.
The 16th of April, 1864, I folded my tent and belongings and moved it
to the memorable hollow oak. Moving briskly out with my trusty rifle in
hand and nearing the public highway, I listened and heard sounds which
I
soon discovered to be three horsemen in a rapid callop and saying, "If
we can cross the Hawthorn ford, we can reach the Yankee lines tonight."
But they were gone too fast.
Were they riding for me to follow? As the sound of their horses' feet
was fading in the distance, I started and so much absorbed in thought
and wonder that I did not discover a single horseman bearing close upon
me. Flight was impossable. To show signs of fright would betray me, so
I
stopped in cool, deliberate waiting to be accosted when the voice said,
"Surrender."
Has the confederacy finally discovered him? Is the voice that
of a friend or enemy? We can only Praise God that Sam Hugh and his
family were all still safe. Sam longs to be with his mother, but a deep
need to join the Union army at Alexandria now rests in his soul. I hope
you'll return to learn if Sam Hugh Whatley was ever able to see his
mother again or if he was able to make it to the Union lines and serve
his government against the confederacy within which his home now lies.
top
Installment #4
I knew the welcome sound and said, "Hello, Charley, is that you?"
"Yes, Sam. What are you doing here?"
"I am trying to hear the news."
"Well, the United States Army is on Red River! and we are making up a
company of Catahoula Boys to join and go!! Will you go?"
I said, "Yes, glad! And vote for Charlie Blackman as my Captain!"
"Good. I'll meet you at your father's near sunset this evenin. Can
you equip?"
"Yes, with horse and gun."
"Be Ready." And we parted.
Soon I was enfolded in my mother's arms and distributing kisses to my
sweet sister and two little brothers.
"Mother, I think this cruil war will end soon now. May I go to the
Union Army?"
"Son, beware of your actions. Make not purpose known, but follow your
truthful conscience and may God be with."
"Mother, my horse, can I get him?"
"Yes, son, and I have just finished you a beautiful jeans suit which
I spun and wove with my own hand. Here it is; step in your room and try
it on. I want to see how it fits."
"Oh, this is fine! I will look well in this! Blessings on my dear
Mother."
"Yes, and your Aunt Charity (Phariby?) made a suit for John Green
just like it."
"Mama, where is John Green?"
"I do not know, but your Uncle Moses was here today and he sayd he
thought John Green was with Charley Blackman somewhere."
So the noontime came and with it my dear old father from his far off
Red River mission to the Negroes. Sad was his look and solemly he told
us that the U.S. Troops have possession of Alexandria and the Pineville
forts and were moving on the Shreveport under General Banks, Division
Commander. And that the Confederates were broken into detachments doing
scout duty harassing as much as possible the movemints of the U.S.
Army.
So with these facts, we were warned of our piril in an effort to
reach the Army line, and how best to do so was the question. Shall I
go,
or attempt to go alone, or wait to see Chas Blackman and Young Walker
who was my cousin and those that should be with them?
My constant loneliness seem to call for companion- and I waited. When
the sun hung low, two horsemen appered riding up towrd the house.
Slowly
they came. My trusty steed stood ready to mount in the barn. Reaching
the gate, I found my cousin and Blackman unarmed and I said, "Where are
your arms?"
They said, "We are not soldiers. We are only citizens and we travel
as such."
"But," I said, "We are conscripts by the confederacy and we are alien
to U.S. States."
"No," they said, "We are tru to the Union and we go to our own
government."
"But should we be arrested by the Confederate forces, would my being
under 18 years of age reliese me from conscript duty?"
"Yes."
"Well, I have a certificate of my age from my mother and father. I am
not 18 yet."
"Then, come on. We can go as peacable citizens."
Hurried farwell was said, each loved one givin me a kiss and a coin
if they possessed one. Old Aunt Sarah, my wet nurs in infancy, gave me
what she had, a fifty cent and a twenty five cent silver and four large
coppers, seventy-nine cents, saying, "Here child, take this. I'll send
you some more as soon as I kin. Then be good, Lord will take care of
you." And she whispered the question, "Is you goin to get us freedom?"
Finally, Sam Hugh seems to be able to take the first step
toward his goal, joining the Union Army. As he says goodby to his
family, we can only wonder at the fervent mind and spirit of a young 17
year old boy who is intent on fighting against his very neighbors to
gain freedom for those such as Sarah and Simon and to help reunite the
country in honor of the beloved Stars and Stripes toward which he is
now
riding. Can he and the other young men from Catahoula Parish make it
through thirty miles of enemy held territory to the U.S. Army now in
Possession of Alexandria? Join me tomorrow as Sam Hugh rides toward an
uncertain fate.
top
Installment #5
My dear old father, not wishing to witness the parting, had retired,
doubtless for the purpose of secret prayer. That loved face I never
more
beheld from that day.
Mounting, we rode quietly some distance out into the long-strawed
pine when we heard clearly the whoot of the swamp owl familiar to us
all. In a moment Blackman answered and we reigned our horses up to a
slow walk. Presently, we sighted a number of horsemen whose faces and
voices assured me I was with kinsmin and friends. Two more cousins and
several schoolfellow about my age.
"Dismount," was the order given, I think by Blackman and as we did so
he said, "We will hold a council. Are you all ready to move within the
Union lines if it is possible to do so?"
The vote was unanimous, "We Are."
"Shall we go or try to go tonight?"
"Yes!"
"Shall we go in a body as we are?"
"Yes!"
"Should we be fired upon by a detachment of confedrates, shall we
surrender or take to flight?" was the question.
I said, "Let us go in detachments of twos some half or three quarters
of mile apart and at the first intrusion, let a shrill whistle be given
and each man then govern his own action independently."
"No, let us organize. Elect a leader and go in a band."
I said, "Then arm and protect ourselves by a fight, or go singly and
risk to flight."
"To arm would cause delay and perhaps defeat in the end."
So we started, Blackman and I in the front.
We rode cautiously taking remote lines and avoiding every place
possable when we would arouse the least fear. And without an incident,
voice, or form of man intercepting us, we rode proudly on in full
moonlight untill the grey dawn of the morning when we heard the clear
bugle sound, the waking notes of a calvry company in Pineville.
We at once reported as a company of fugitives seeking protection. We
were kindly invited to dismount, feed our horses and breakfast with
them. We did so and I broke my first hardtack of army bread.
Then we reported to the Post Commander who ordered that we all take
an oath of "Allegience." Seeing a suspicion on the Commander's face, I
said I had always been a "Union Man." He looked pleased and answered,
"You need not take the Oath then." But I said I wished to show my
loyalty.
"Will you volunteer?" I was asked.
I answered, "Yes!"
"How?"
"As a regular soldier." Then come a loud laugh at my expense. Then
someone said He who has never drilled cannot be a regular. But as an
earnest applicant.
I was divested of apparel before the medical examination was
approved, and given the regulation blue pants and blows (blouse) - but
the comparison with my Mother's jeans very much humiliated my proud
spirit. But the Soldier's Oath pushed the murmur in my heart and gladly
did I wait the day to arms, mount, and forward march. But by some
delay,
our U.S. Mount never came. The order of retreat in good order was
given,
so with our own mounts and arms, we moved into line covering the slow
moving infantry, who with trailing flags moved down the bank of the Red
River with bowed heads almost in silence from the fearful Battle of
Mansfield's humiliating defeat.
Steady, slow. 1..2..3.. days with no issue of rations. Keendly did
the pallet of a healthy boy cry and with four dollars old silver, I
found enough to stay the want and give hope for the future in the
haversack of a lucky comrad in the shape of wet brown sugar and hard
tacks. The fourth day out, we were given a can of soup in an old oyster
can of a pint measure and five hard tacks which cooled the soup and
softend so that they were good! Real good! and for which I thanked God
and took courage all the days of marching and counter marching with now
and then a few minutes to fill our nose bags with oats for our hungry
horsis which brought drousyness and a large part of that long march
from
Alexandria to new Orleans, I felt as if half asleep.
Finally, Sam Hugh, along with his friends and kinsmen from
Catahoula Parish have managed to find and join the Union Army at
Pineville, Louisiana. In the days to come, will they fight? Will they
be
able to return to Catahoula Parish and home? Join me tomorrow as we
follow Sam Hugh into battle.
top
Installment #6
At Yellow Bayou, we had a livily wakening when our batallion was
halted in the rear of the slow moving baggage wagon crossing the
Atachafalya River. A battery of light artilery in command of the
Confederates opened fire on us, cuting down horse or man at every fire.
Oh, the thud of these missles of death as they struck and passed on
through body of a fellow soldier. First, my left comrad fell, then my
right, with not a sound or moan. Headless trunk and legless body was
something of a gorery sight that met the eye. The strugling weight of a
comrad's wounded horse dehorsed me from my freighten steed which went
plunging to the front. Then from this tangled mass of dead men and
beasts, I disintangled to find myself without an officer or comrad.
Lifting the fragments of my broken gun, I started onward to the main
army. Slow and half dazed, I strugled on, stimulated by the proud
victorious rebel yell close behind me and listning to hear the command
to halt or feel a hot bullet pass through my body. I hurried on as if
with wings, but I soon found a friendly copse of woods through which I
hurried on, and to my great joy, found my second lieutenant and three
comrads leading my own trusted horse, who with shameful look, seem to
sway his body to my stirrup foot as I swung my weary weight upon his
faithful old back. What good Angel kept me, I know not; yet I do truly
believe it was God.
After this running battle and te painful crossing of the Atchafalya
River, our march was slow and unevintful. At Morganza, we rested and
refreshed, then took up our march on to New Orleans. When we entered a
baracks made of brick-walled old cotten sheds, I was soon sent to the
Marine Hospital with my cousin, William Boman Whatley, who died there
and of whose grave I know nothing.
When I rejoined my company, we were moved to Baton Rouge and encamped
for several weeks. On a raid out toward Amit City, a large number, 19 I
believe, was killed or captured. From there, we were ordered to
Morganza, Louisiana - and consilidated with the 2nd Louisiana Calvary
doin picket duty and drilling daily, until we were ordered to New
Orleans to be mustered out, which to me, was a great surprise and
disapointment.
We signed our pay roll, but payment was delayed for some weeks, and
we were given the privilidge of staying at the soldiers' home or of
taking care of ourselves. I chose the latter and found employment with
a
contractor taking down a large old gin house just below the Gretna
Ferry
Landing.
Dangerous was the unroofing for an unskilled man, yet for the sum of
75 cents a day, I held my place till the work was finished in about
seven days. Then for a time, I hired to a wood man who had his wood
corded in a swamp back of Gretna in water from 18 inches to 14 inches
deep and sixty to eighty paces to gangway where it was to be carried on
my shoulders three to five sticks at a load and fifty cents a cord was
the contract. Three cords I moved a day and felt proud of my doubled
salary; when the glad news that Uncle Sam was awaiting at the soldiers'
home to pay my army service.
Thus the days had passed and I had saved money. As I crossed the
river inroute to the soldiers' home, I met a steamboat man on the
wharf,
who said, "Young man, do you want a place to work?" To my surprise, he
was an old friend of my father and was first mate on the Str. Illinois,
so I engaged as labror on his next trip out, which was the day
following.
I received my pay and mingled with the few remaining comrades that
day, most of them being paid off the day before, and wer gon some where
in the city.
Next day I took my place on the Str. Illinoise as a roustabout as
deck hand. We laded first with a load of beef cattle and my
fearlessness
of the stock seemed to comend me to the crew. After the unlading and
deck cleaning, we put on 300 cord of wood, which though my shoulders
were still sore, I showed myself expert in handling.
When we were in mid stream, the mate said, "You are a worthy boy. We
need you as a 'storage man' as deck hand to keep the boat from listing
and a record of the storage." So my first day out brought me a
promotion
for which I was glad and my heart was thankful.
Another long trip out to Natches, Vicksburg and back. When in port
again, the Captain, Porter, said to me, "Man, would you like to take
watch on the boat?" I said yes. He said, "Clean up and take your place
with the officers on the boiler deck", which I soon found ment I should
visit the barber and put on a white shirt and shine my shoes. All of
which I was glad to do and quickly did. My wardrobe demanded a Saratoga
trunk for keeping.
What joy came to my poor mind when the next day I met a dear old
loved neighbor of my parints, who said, "Sam, your mother told me to
give you what money you should need."
I said, "I have a place and am not now in any need."
"Well," said Uncle Isaac Baker, "here is one hundred dollars anyway.
You may need it later on."
So then, my life was made glad though in exile and a pilgrim! Steam
boating on the Mississippi River is a life of varied social features
from the professional gambler to the Sacred Priests, (also) the cabin
passengers, with whom I was often in conversation. Much of my time was
spent in reading books, many of them wise, some otherwise. So my
steamboat life was buissy from New Orleans to St. Louis, Missouri.
And so ends the period of Sam Hugh Whatley's time with the
Union Army as another chapter of his life continued with a life on the
Mississippi river. Some time after he was honorably discharged from the
Union army, the civil war ended and Sam Hugh was able to return home,
no
longer in exile. In 1890, Sam Hugh described his return from Michigan,
where he had been labeled unjustly, "Johnnie Reb."
top
In a few weeks however, I received a letter from a friend living in
New Orleans, Louisiana, which brought the glad news to my heart that
the
war had ended and communication was now open with all parts of the
country. So I hastened at once to leave the scene of sorrow behind and
turn homeward.
The Fourth of July, 1865, as we sailed into the port at Chicago, I
caught sight of the emense fire works and lighted windows blaising with
cheerful light in honor of the day of our government's first victory.
My
heart swelled with joy, but all this seemed tame as compared to the
thought of soon seeing my loved ones at home.
Coming to New Orleans, I heard from my precious Mother of the deaths
of a loved sister and loving faithful old father. With my heart beating
with greaf and joy that can never be described, I hastened to comfort
my
mother and see the loved home of my childhood that I feel to this day I
have lived to honor and defend. This ends my war history, a chapter
that
my biographer need not blush to write nor my friends fear to read.
Pineville, La. Sept. 11, 1890
S.H. Whatley
top
