The story of the 55th & 59th US Colored Regiments. |
Chapter 22 They were standing out in the weed grown yard in front of the small two-room house that belonged to William and Martha Scott. The Scott's farm was about a half-mile south of Brice's Crossroads on the Pontotoc Road on a slight incline that gradually ran into the Tishomingo Creek about a mile further south. At least a dozen people had taken refuge with the Scotts, including the entire Brice family, Laura and Rebecca Ann, two of their friends, Lany Holland, and Bettie Cappleman, and four from the large Bryson clan, Samuel, Hampton, Eliza, and Mary on their way back from Guntown. Samuel Agnew had been there, but concern over his father had forced him to rush home leaving Rachel with Laura. William Scott was serving with the Confederacy and Martha had been watching the small homestead since his departure. A few moments earlier they had watched as a company of Confederate cavalry deployed across the Guntown Road to their right, quickly harassed by Union artillery as soon as they were spotted. Laura was certain she had seen Will leading the small force. Although the distance was too great to see his features, she would recognize her horse, Squirrel, anywhere. As soon as the soldiers had been deployed, the rider she assumed was Will had disappeared. They could now see the blue jackets of Yankee cavalry no more than a hundred yards down the road towards the Brice's house. They had not dismounted, but sat on their mounts as if they were uncertain of where to go or what to do. A sudden bristling of rifle firing came from the direction of the Porters’ farm sounding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July celebration. The rifles were soon followed by the deep roar of cannon being brought into play. "Heard tell there was ten or fifteen thousand of those blue bellies," Samuel Bryson stated, pointing his old cherry wood pipe towards the sound of the firing. "Even heard there were nigra soldiers with ‘em." "Old Bedford ain't got much more than Rucker and Lyons with him, ‘bout 1500 men far as I know," Hampton Bryson replied. "Last I heard Colonel Bell was might up near Corinth and Johnson was way over yonner in Alabama somewheres. Colonel Chalmers ain't been around since that Fort Pillow incident." "Could be Bedford's just gonna hold them until General Lee can gather up some more boys," Samuel commented. "Either that or he's gonna just snip at them a bit." "Look over to the left," Bettie Cappleman stated, interrupting the older men. "I see a bunch of horses and wagons crossing the bridge." "Them would be Yankee cavalry supply wagons," Hampton guessed, "Even the cavalry needs lots of bullets and beans to keep them in the field." "Let's sneak down the road and take a better look," Bettie stated. "I can't see anything from way back here." "Best you youngins stay put," Samuel ordered, "them bullets can't tell a civilian from a soldier." Mollified for the moment by his sensible words, Bettie looked at Laura with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, which clearly said they would sneak away as soon as old man Bryson wasn't watching. The Yankee supply wagons continued to cross the small wooden bridge and form up in a small cornfield to the right of the road; the teamsters cursing and swearing at the obstinate mules. From where they stood it looked like one awful mess, wagons going in every which direction, stubborn teams refusing to move, teamsters cursing at other teamsters. Two men were actually taking swings at each other with their whips. "Bet those Yankee wagons got more than bullets in ‘em," Rebecca Ann remarked, shading her eyes to see better. "Heard tell them Yankee soldiers eat high off the hog." "Yeah," Bettie replied, "our hogs." "Our hogs, our grain, our vegetables, and our cattle," Martha Scott added. "Friend of mine up in Ripley was tellin’ me they stole might near everything she had last winter, she and her youngins came close to starving to death, weren't for the church" "Why can't they just leave us alone?" Bettie Cappleman stated. "We ain't done nothing to them. All we want is for them to leave us be and we'll leave them be." "Abraham Lincoln called for them to force us back into the Union," Hampton answered. "Reckon lots of them figure it'd be fun playing war an’ killing innocent folks. Ain't often a man gets to commit crimes like that and get away with it." "This heat’s already roasting me," Martha Scott remarked, turning and heading for the house. "Won't you join me for some fresh sassafras tea?” she said, addressing the elders standing around. Almost in unison the small group turned and headed for the cool comfort of the house. All except Laura, Rebecca Ann, and Bettie. As soon as the others had disappeared indoors, the girls looked at each other with a knowing glance and started walking towards the sound of the growing battle back at the crossroads. Fifteen minutes later, they were hidden in a blackjack thicket on the south side of the road no more than a hundred yards from scores of Yankee cavalrymen placidly sitting on their mounts, their entire attention on the growing battle to their left. "Why're they just sitting there?" asked Rebecca Ann, "Don't they know where the fightin' is?" "I think that officer's real cute," Bettie remarked, pointing to a young cavalry officer with curly blond hair in front of a formation of men. "Only you'd think that at a time like this," Laura chided. "Those men are the enemy just in case you've forgotten that small fact." "Don't mean nothing by it, just making a casual observation." "I hear something behind us," Rebecca Ann said, turning around to peer through the tangle of trees and briars. For five minutes or more, the girls continued to seek out the source of the noise behind them. Finally, the gray kepi of a Confederate cavalryman was spotted as he made his way through a small opening about fifty yards away. After a few more minutes, dozens of men in dusty gray uniforms could be seen creeping slowly towards their position from the south. "Good Lord!" Laura exclaimed, "Those are our boys come to fight the Yankees." "Yeah," Bettie blurted, her eyes round in fear, "and we're right dab in between both of them." |