The Civil War's Tallest Soldier

(Historical Photo)

Henry Clay Thruston was born on May 4, 1830 in Greenville, South Carolina. He grew to 7 feet, 7 ½ inches by the time he was 19. Henry was the youngest of 5 brothers, all of whom were over 6 feet tall. His parents moved the family to Missouri soon after he was born and except for the notoriety of the boys being so tall, they lived a quiet, uneventful life. In 1850, Henry moved to California to try his hand at gold mining, but soon came back home to Missouri where, at age 23, he married Mary Thruston, a distant cousin. He began traveling with the P.T. Barnum show where he was billed as “The Missouri Giant” or, while traveling through Texas, “The Texas Giant” and “The Tallest Man in the World.” While touring in the south, he would lead the circus parade wearing a large “Stars and Bars” flag draped around his shoulders, but when the circus was in the northern states, he dressed as “Uncle Sam” and wore the “Old Glory” flag.

By the time the Civil War broke out, Henry and Mary had four children. When Union General Lyons invaded Missouri in February 1861, he broke up the State Legislature and drove the Governor, Claiborne F. Jackson, from the Capitol. He also took prisoners a company of State Guards in St. Louis, shot down women and children in the streets, and proclaimed that “the blood of women and children should run as water” before Missouri should go out of the Union. The Thruston family held strong views regarding state’s rights and upon the actions of General Lyons and his troops, Henry and two of his brothers joined the Morgan County Rangers, a unit of the Missouri State Guards. Henry remained with the State Guards, participating in several small battles until after the battle of Pea Ridge where his well-loved nephew, Joe Thurston, was killed. Henry then quit the State Guards and joined the Confederate Army, serving as a private under Col. John Q. Burbridge in the 4th Missouri Cavalry.

One day, Henry and a small group of soldiers were far in front of the Rebel lines serving as scouts when they came upon a farmhouse. As they approached, a young woman broke out of the house yelling, “Watch out! The woods are full of Yanks!” A major in charge of the Union troops came running out of the house and aimed his rifle at the woman. Before he could shoot however, Henry stood up, fired his rifle and mortally wounded the major. The remaining Union troops ran from the house and retreated into the woods. While giving aid to the wounded Yankee major, he kept saying, “A Reb standing upon a tree stump shot me.”

(Historical Photo)

On another occasion, the two sides were dug in just yards apart on either side of a pasture. At night, the men would shout at each other across the field. The Union men told the southerners they better watch out as they had a giant on their side and he would be coming to destroy them. The Rebs shouted back they had a giant as well and their giant was undoubtedly bigger. To settle the argument, the two sides agreed on a truce for the next day to settle who had the bigger giant. At the appointed hour, Yanks and Rebs left their guns behind, met in the middle of the pasture and the two “giants” were stood back-to-back.  The Union giant was only 6’10 1/2” and Henry, at 7’7 ½” was clearly taller. The Yanks had to admit the Reb giant was bigger. Afterward, for the rest of the hour of peace, the men swapped each other for food, tobacco, clothing items and gave each other news of what was happening elsewhere. It was reported that at least one set of brothers one Yank and one Reb, found each other and spent the hour in tears while hugging and talking about their parents and relatives back home. At the end of the hour, each side turned and went back to their lines. The rest of the day was peaceful, but early the next morning, a Union soldier shouted, “Duck your heads, Rebs! Here we come!” The Yankees then charged the Rebel lines and the death and horror of war resumed.

Henry survived that battle and several others as well. A few months later, he was standing in the second line of a formation for the colonel to “inspect the troops.” The command “Attention” was given. The colonel looked at the lines of men and shouted “Attention” himself, but when nobody moved, he drew his saber, ran straight at Thruston yelling, “By God, I will make you obey orders! Get off that stump now!” Henry said, “Sir, I’m not standing on a stump. I’m standing on the ground.” Getting close enough to see that Thruston was indeed just standing on the ground, the Colonel said, “My God, how the Yankees haven’t killed a target as big as you is unbelievable.”

 Later in the war, Henry was serving in the cavalry under Major-General Sterling Price who was raiding across Arkansas, Kansas and Missouri in what was called “Price’s Raid.” It was during this campaign in 1864 when, amazingly, a mini-ball grazed the top of his head. He later said, “It didn’t hurt much and only parted my hair.” It was at another battle in Arkansas in 1864 that Henry’s incredible luck ran out. He was seriously wounded in the side and was captured by Yankee forces. A Union doctor managed to remove the bullet and eventually, Henry made a full recovery. He remained a prisoner of war until being paroled in June 1865 after the war ended.

After the war, Thruston reunited with his family in Missouri and soon migrated southwest to Texas, stopping when he got to Titus County. He bought 100 acres east of Mount Vernon and spent most of the rest of his life farming and occasionally touring once again with Barnum and Bailey circus. While touring with the circus this time, he took to wearing a tall beaver hat, high-top boots and a long coat which made him look ten feet tall. Thousands of people came to see and talk with “The World’s Tallest Man.”

Henry’s wife Mary died on September 23, 1891. Several years later, in declining health, he moved in with his son Edward who lived in Mt. Vernon, Texas. Henry always attended the Confederate Reunions and was always the center of attention for everyone in attendance. Shortly after his return from the reunion in Memphis, Tennessee, the Civil War’s tallest soldier died on Friday, July 2, 1909. He was 79 years old. He is buried next to his wife and two of their sons in the old Edward’s Cemetery in Mt. Pleasant, Texas.

Henry Thruston home. Now restored
and serves as the Mt. Vernon
Visitor's Center.

Who Fired The Actual 1st Shot of the Civil War?

Historical photo of William Simkins

William Stewart Simkins was born on August 25, 1842 in Edgefield, South Carolina. In 1856, he entered the Citadel, a South Carolina military academy. Simkins was on guard duty as the sun began rising on January 9, 1861 when he saw an alert signal from a guard boat in Charleston Harbor. The guard boat had detected the arrival of the Union steamship Star of the West entering the harbor. Since South Carolina had declared she had seceded from the Union several weeks earlier, this was considered a military incursion by a foreign power.

The Star of the West was a 172-ton steamship built in New York in 1852 for Cornelius Vanderbilt. She made regular runs to Nicaragua, Havana and New Orleans until she was chartered to the War Department on January 1, 1861. She was loaded with ammunition, food, uniforms and sundries in New York before being sent to deliver the supplies to Fort Sumter. 

After alerting the other cadets, Simkins loaded his cannon and fired upon the "Star of the West." Within seconds, his mates joined in. Although not damaged to a great degree, the ship was hit three times and the captain of the Star of the West considered it too dangerous to go on. He ordered the ship turned around and, with both paddle wheels churning, fled from the scene. Although the bombardment of Fort Sumter would not take place until April 12th, three months later, William Simkins had effectively just fired the first shot of the Civil War.

Grave of William Simkins & family

Due to the inevitability of the coming war, Simkins and his fellow cadets were graduated early on April 9th that year. Three days later, he was on duty once again and participated in the bombardment of Fort Sumter, marking the official beginning of the war. 

Simkins was commissioned as a first lieutenant of artillery and fought in a number of battles during the first two years of the war. He was named inspector general for General Hagood in 1863. He survived the war and surrendered as a colonel under General Joseph Johnston in 1865. After he surrendered, he and his brother moved to Florida and eventually organized the Florida Ku Klux Klan. He became a lawyer in 1870 and moved to Corsicana, Texas in 1873 where he established a law practice. In 1885, he moved to Dallas and established a law practice with his brother. The firm was very successful, but he moved to Austin to be a law professor at the University of Texas in 1899.

At the university, he became a very popular professor and his publications became standard textbooks across other schools in Texas and many campuses across America. He became professor emeritus in 1923, but still lectured once every week until he died in 1929. He is buried in a family plot in Greenwood Cemetery in Dallas.

Simkins was such a popular teacher and held in such high esteem that a new residence dormitory was named Simkins Hall and a green-space park on the campus was named Simkins Park. Simkins' history with the Ku Klux Klan in Florida was rediscovered and in 2010, the African American trustee, Printice L. Gary, made the motion to delete the name "Simkins" from the dormitory. The motion was unanimously approved and the dormitory name was changed to Creekside Residence Hall. The park was also renamed and the name "Simkins" has been disassociated from the University of Texas.

Postcard from Lonely Fort Lancaster

In far west Texas just off State Highway 290 a few miles from the small town of Sheffield, which puts the site just about in the middle of nowhere, are the remains of Fort Lancaster, one of the forts that provided protection for westbound settlers in the mid-1850's. Constructed from 1855 - 1860 using stone and adobe bricks, it was garrisoned by 150 enlisted men and 3 officers from the 1st U.S. Infantry. It was very harsh duty, so harsh and distasteful that it was one of only 3 stations where the men were paid double salary for their service. There was basically nothing there in the way of resources and there were only two seasons of weather - unbearably hot and bone-chilling cold. For the most part, even the Indians avoided the area so skirmishes and military engagements were extremely rare. To fight the boredom, the men either worked on maintaining the buildings or spent tedious hour after hour in mindless drilling and marching.

In 1857, there came a welcome break in the routine when the Army's experimental Camel Corps came to the fort on their way west. The arrival of Captain Beale and his 40 men with 25 camels, 100 sheep and a large herd of horses and mules was certainly cause for excitement. The men of the fort and the caravan broke out what provisions they had and shared a better meal than any of them had enjoyed in a long time. Unfortunately, a pall was cast during the feast when word came that the infant son of Captain Arthur Lee, one of the caravan's married officers, had just died of an illness contracted while on the trail a few days before. Arthur Lee, Jr. was buried on the post the next day. The day after the burial, Captain Lee, his wife and the rest of the caravan had to leave to maintain their schedule. The infant's grave is still there, marked by a small headstone put in place by soldiers of the fort after his parents left.

When Texas seceded from the Union in February, 1881 and joined the Confederacy, a very civil change took place. The Federal troops peacefully left the fort and traveled back to their homes. After they left, a small contingent of Rebel forces came in to take charge.

Nine months later, the Confederate troops manning the fort had found Fort Lancaster duty to be the same as the Federal forces had, unspeakably boring, and they, again like the Federal troops, spent their time performing a little bit of maintenance on the buildings and a great deal of marching and drilling. In late November, General Henry Sibley and his 2,500 men came to the fort while on their way west to capture New Mexico for the Confederacy. To show proper respect for a visiting general (who, it was known, also happened to be good friends with Confederate President Jefferson Davis), the 100 men at Fort Lancaster presented themselves in precise rows outfitted in their never-before-worn dress uniforms. General Sibley felt obliged to respond to this welcome by personally taking charge of a marching drill routine. If there was anything the Fort Lancaster troops were good at by now, it was marching.

With Sibley sitting on his horse barking out orders, the men marched, wheeled and counter marched perfectly to each of the general's commands. Sibley called out an order to "File left" and that's when things took a nasty turn. Perhaps Sibley didn't call out loudly enough or the strong  wind blowing that day prevented the men from hearing his command, but they didn't turn left and kept marching to the right as they had been. Sibley watched in dismay as the men marched away from the parade grounds and, in perfect order,  smartly stepped through the fort's gate straight up and all the way over a nearby hill. The general didn't command them to halt or march to the rear and just sat there watching in bemusement. As the last of the men disappeared, he turned to his aid, muttered "Gone to hell they have" and rode out to continue leading his troops west. History does not record how far the poor Fort Lancaster soldiers had marched before someone rode out to stop them.

By April of 1862, the Confederate government decided the Fort Lancaster troops could be better used fighting the Yankees rather than continue marching in the isolation of west Texas. The fort was abandoned until a few months later when a small contingent of Texas Rangers occupied and used the fort's buildings as their headquarters. With the war going on, bandits, outlaws and even the Indians were not causing much trouble so it wasn't long before the Rangers also abandoned the fort. For the next five years, the fort was raided by nearby ranchers and homesteaders for building materials. A fire struck in early 1867 and destroyed several of the buildings that were still standing.

By the middle of 1867, with the war over, some of the battle-hardened veterans who had returned home to find no jobs and no prospects, had taken to a lawless life on the frontier. White settlement on formerly Indian land was pushing the Indians into desperation. To protect the settlers and travelers, the fort was once again occupied by Federal troops. Buffalo soldiers of Company K, 9th Cavalry were sent to rebuild and secure the fort. While this was proceeding, the fort came under a rare full-on attack by about 1,000 Apache and Kickapoo warriors led by a few renegade Mexican soldiers. On December 26, 1867, the fort was surrounded and the Indians attacked all sides at once. The battle lasted for 3 hours before the Indians retreated. The soldiers claimed that at least 20 of the attackers were killed while they had 3 causalities, unfortunate men who were captured and carried off.  The mutilated remains were found 3 months later and were brought back to the fort for burial. 

The next year the army abandoned the fort and once again, the buildings were raided for materials by the local ranchers. By 1912, only a few stones from building's walls remained in place when the state began preservation efforts for this historic facility. Today, the few visitors to Fort Lancaster can still feel the isolation and sense of desolation the fort's occupants experienced in the 1800's. Located a mile or so off of little traveled Highway 290 on what was known back then as Lower Road, no modern buildings can be seen in the area except for the well-equipped visitor center. The site gets few tourists. Nobody gets there unless they are intentionally going there.

On the day we stopped, we were the only visitors. Walking into the very clean visitor center, the single park ranger greeted us with a big smile on his face and a very warm greeting. He seemed overjoyed at having someone to talk to. He gave us the history of the fort, the sites to see on the property and the history of individual ruins. It was late afternoon on an overcast Saturday and when I asked him how many visitors he had that day, he replied we were the first. We left our car parked in front of the visitor center and walked around the site reading the tour brochure. It was interesting, mostly because it was so quiet I could hear the wings of a hawk as it flew high over us and I wondered if some lonely soldier all those years ago stood still like me for a few seconds to watch a bird flying in the sky. About half-way through the walking tour, the gray skies began to leak so we unfolded our little portable umbrella's and headed back to the car. We had just got in the car when there was a loud clap of thunder and it began to pour. Turning on the engine, I clicked on the windshield wipers and began to back out. As we pulled away, the park ranger came to the door and waved goodbye, the newest lonely occupant in this place of desolation.

The Father and Son Generals

Graves of Jerome &
Felix Robertson

In the old stately Oakwood Cemetery in Waco, Texas lie the remains of a father and son who both survived many fierce battles during the Civil War, rose through the ranks to become generals and returned from the war to become successful in civilian life. The son, Felix Huston Robertson, was the only native-born Texan to serve as a general during the Civil War and by the time he died, had earned a singularly notable accomplishment.

The father, Jerome Bonaparte Robertson, came to Texas from Kentucky to join the Texas army in 1836. He served as a captain until he resigned his position in 1837. After getting married, he purchased some land and settled at Washington-on-the-Brazos where he opened a medical practice. Over the next 6 years, he was often away fighting in Indian campaigns and serving in the army to repel two invasions by the Mexicans. He managed to come back home often enough for his wife to give birth to three children, one of whom died in infancy. After finally coming back home with the intention of settling down, he became the town's coroner, post master and eventually was elected mayor. In 1847 he was elected to the State House of Representatives and in 1849 to the State Senate.

Jerome Robertson

In January, 1861, Jerome served as a representative at the Texas Secession Convention and soon after, raised a company of volunteers for the Confederate army. He was elected as its captain when it became an official part of the 5th Texas Cavalry under John Bell Hood. From that date forward, he was in almost continuous campaigns and battles, fighting with distinction in many famous battles such as the 7 Days Battle, Gain's Mills, South Mountain, Antietam, and Gettysburg. At the Battle of Gettysburg, Jerome and his men fought in the ferocious battles of Little Round Top and Devil's Den. In spite of being heavily outnumbered by the Union troops at Devil's Den, Jerome's soldiers accomplished their objective, suffering heavy casualties while doing so. By this time he had been made a general, but he still insisted on leading his men in charge after charge. In all the fighting he had taken part in over the last three years, he had never been hit, but during the last charge on Devil's Den, he was wounded several times. After recovering, he rejoined his unit and once again bravely fought in the Chickamauga Battle in Tennessee. Unfortunately (or perhaps very fortunately - how many times can one man be shot at and missed?), he then became embroiled in a bit of political infighting, came out on the losing side and was transferred to Texas where he commanded the reserve forces until the end of the war.

After the war, in spite of all the death and gruesome things he had seen and was a part of, Jerome simply moved back home and picked up where he left off, reestablishing his medical practice and with his son, investing in railroads and real estate. He died peacefully in his bed in 1890 at age 74.

Felix Robertson was born in Texas on March 9, 1839. He attended Baylor University and then West Point, but quit and offered his services to the Confederacy. He was commissioned a 2nd lieutenant in the artillery and took part in the bombardment of Fort Sumter at the beginning of the Civil War. Felix served with distinction in numerous less well-known battles and several famous ones such as Shiloh and Murfreesboro. At Chickamauga, he was in heavy action near his father. Amazingly, both father and son survived 3 days of fierce fighting in which there were over 18,000 Confederate causalities.

 

Felix Robertson

Felix steadily rose in rank and became a general like his father. In late 1864 though, his luck finally ran out and he was severely wounded in a battle near Augusta, Georgia. He would survive his wounds, but they were so severe that it ended his military service and he was sent home to Texas. While recuperating, he read law books and passed the bar exam to become a licensed lawyer. His partnership with his father investing in railroads and real estate proved to be a success and they both became financially well off.

Other than surviving against the odds, what notable accomplishment did Felix achieve? Not content with just being the only native Texan to serve as a general in the Civil War, when he died in Waco, Texas on April 20, 1928, he was the last surviving general of the Confederacy. 














 

The First Shot of the Civil War

Cadet William S. Simkins

Just northeast of today's downtown Dallas, Texas is the historic Greenwood Cemetery. Famous for the many icons of history buried within its grounds, it is perhaps even more famous for the numerous cemetery scenes filmed there for the popular TV series Walker, Texas Ranger which starred Chuck Norris and ran from 1993 - 2001. One of the more obscure burials here is that of Confederate veteran William Stewart Simkins.

William was born on August 25, 1842. On January 9, 1861, he was a senior cadet at the Citadel, a South Carolina military academy. At daybreak, he and several other cadets were manning a battery overlooking the Charleston Harbor. Standing watch that morning, he saw a signal from a guard boat and quickly sounded the alarm, waking up his fellow cadets. They spotted the Union ship Star of the West attempting to resupply Fort Sumter. A cannon was loaded, aimed at the supply ship, and William fired. It was the first shot of the Civil War. (see The Civil War Ended in Texas for who fired the last shot.)

William Simkins

William and his classmates were graduated early on April 9th. Just 3 days later on April 12, 1861, he participated in the bombardment of Fort Sumter, the first battle of the Civil War. William served as an artillery officer and then Inspector General throughout the conflict, finally surrendering as a colonel in the army of General Joseph Johnston in North Carolina in 1865.

Simkins moved to Florida after the war, studied law and passed the bar exam in 1870. He move to Texas in 1873 and eventually joined the law faculty of the University of Texas. After a long and successful law career, he passed away in Dallas on February 27, 1929. 68 years after he fired the first shot of the Civil War.

Simkins Family Plot in Greenwood Cemetery

Grave of William Simkins

General Scurry

Entrance to the Texas State Cemetery

The Texas State Cemetery in Austin was established in 1851 and is the final resting place of Governors, Senators, Legislators, Congressmen, Judges, Medal of Honor war heroes, legendary frontiersmen, famous authors and other noted Texans who have made the state what it is today. One of these resting in eternal peace is General William Read Scurry.

Scurry was born in Gallatin, Tennessee, on February 10, 1821, and arrived in Texas on June 20, 1839. He was licensed to practice law before he was twenty-one and appointed district attorney of the fifth judicial district in 1841. Scurry became aide-de-camp to Thomas Jefferson Rusk in 1842 and represented Red River County in the Ninth Congress of the Republic of Texas in 1844 and 1845. During the Mexican War he enlisted as a private in Col. George T. Wood' Second Regiment, Texas Mounted Volunteers, and was promoted to major on July 4, 1846. After the war he practiced law in Clinton and for a time was the owner and editor of the Austin State Gazette.

General Skurry (historical photo)

After representing the counties of Victoria, DeWitt, Jackson, and Calhoun in the Secession Convention, he volunteered for service in the Confederate army in July, 1861 even though he was 40 years old. He was assigned the rank of lieutenant colonel in the Fourth Texas Cavalry and distinguished himself as a man of leadership and great bravery during the Confederate invasion of New Mexico while commanding the Southern forces at the battle of Glorieta.

After his participation in several more battles, he was promoted to brigadier general and played a vital role in the Confederate recapture of Galveston in January, 1863. In late 1863, General Scurry was assigned to command the Third Brigade of Walker's Texas Division. He valiantly  led his men in the bloody battles of Mansfield and Pleasant Hill and then was transferred with his command to Arkansas to repel the Union army which was marching toward Northeast Texas. 

On April 30, 1864, Scurry again went into battle at Jenkins Ferry. At age 42, after almost three years of war, leading men in ferocious, deadly battles, his luck ran out. As the battle raged, he was on his horse,rallying his men in their attack when a cannon shell exploded close by. His horse was killed, but miraculously, Scurry received only minor wounds. He continued to lead on foot when, as he crested a hill in front of his troops, he was shot in the upper leg, the mini ball shattering the bone. His men wanted to take him to the rear where he could be given medical attention and possibly saved, but fearing to do so would cause his troops to lose the morale needed to turn the enemy, he refused. 

For almost 2 hours the battle raged around him as he laid in the open field shouting encouragement to his men and giving orders. In spite of his bravery and encouragement though, he enemy held off the Rebels long enough to receive reinforcements and pushed the southerners back. Scurry laid in the field with the other dead and wounded as the Yankees rushed by. In the heat of battle, there was no time to care for the  wounded of either side so Scurry went without aid for over 2 hours.

W. R. Scurry grave

Soon, the Confederate's halted their retreat and made a stand. After several Union attacks were turned back, the Southerners rallied and made their own attack. The Yankee lines broke and the pitched battle turned into a route as the Union soldiers were forced into a running retreat. Scurry's men regained the field where he lay and rushed to see if by some miracle their leader was still alive. He was.

When a handful of his men found him, he asked, "Have we whipped them?" On being told the battle had been won, he whispered, "Now take me to a house where I can be made comfortable and die easy." After over 2 hours of laying in the hot sun in severe pain, bleeding with a shattered leg and receiving no treatment, General Scurry finally, mercifully, passed out. His men carried him to a nearby house which had been turned into a field hospital, but it was too late. He died without regaining consciousness.

William Read Scurry's body was brought back home and buried in the Texas State Cemetery in May, 1864. Scurry county Texas is named in his honor.

Philip Work - Civil War Hero Beat The Odds



Philip A. Work shortly after the
Civil War.

Philip Alexander Work, lawyer, Confederate soldier and arguably, the luckiest man to ever go to war, was born in Cloverport, Kentucky, on February 17, 1832. The son of John and Frances, Philip moved with his parents to Velasco, Texas, in 1838 and then to Town Bluff, Texas, where John established a plantation.

In 1853, Philip was admitted to the bar in Woodville. He then enlisted and served with the rank of first sergeant for four months in Capt. John George Walker's Company B, Mounted Battalion of Texas Volunteers protecting the Texas frontier from Indian attacks. After surviving several skirmishes, Philip and the rest of the surviving volunteers were mustered into the regular United States Army. After serving uneventfully for several years, he was honorably discharged and returned to Texas.

In 1861, Philip was one of the two delegates from Tyler County to the Secession Convention, but before the convention reconvened on March 2, he resigned to raise a company of Texas militia known as the Woodville Rifles. The company was mustered into the Confederate Army at New Orleans in May 1861 and became Company F of the First Texas Infantry Regiment, Hood's Texas Brigade. By the beginning of 1862, Philip and his men would be in Virginia and almost continuously right in the middle of the most intensive, bloodiest battles of the war.

During the year 1862 alone, Philip and the brigade would engage the enemy in 24 battles, sustaining a causality rate of over 60%. Due to his leadership abilities, the appalling number of casualties suffered by both the enlisted men and the officers and the fact that he miraculously came through each engagement with hardly a scratch, Philip rose steadily in rank, receiving battlefield promotions almost every month until he became the regimental commander on June 27 during the battle of Gaines' Mill after Col. Alexis T. Rainey was seriously wounded. Afterwards, Philip commanded the First Texas Infantry in the battles of Malvern Hill, Freeman's Ford, Thoroughfare Gap, Second Manassas, Boonesboro Gap, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg. By the end of the war, of the approximately 4,400 men who served in Hood’s Texas Brigade, only 600 remained and the unit would go down in history as one of the hardest fighting and most well-known and respected units of the Civil War.

At Sharpsburg, Philip’s regiment suffered 81% casualties, the greatest percentage of losses sustained by any regiment, Union or Confederate, in a single day of fighting during the war. Of the 226 men he began with that morning, only 44 were still alive by nightfall. His post-battle report is considered one of the most poignant, yet straightforward accounts of the war. At least 8 men had been killed carrying the company’s flag during the fighting and it was lost as he and the handful of survivors retreated through a corn field. When they emerged from the field and he discovered the flag was not with them, he ran back desperately trying to locate it, but only made it into the rows of corn a few yards before encountering a wall of Yankees. He was forced to return without the flag, running through the field as corn stalks all around were cut down by the musket balls being fired at him. In his report, he wrote, “It is a source of mortification to state that, upon retiring from the engagement, our colors were not brought off. I can but feel that some degree of odium must be attached… the loss of our flag will always remain a matter of sore and deep regret.”

Philip was promoted to the command of Hood's Brigade on the third day of the battle of Gettysburg. Although having never been physically wounded during any battle, he became ill on September 18, 1863, the day before the battle of Chickamauga and had to be evacuated to a hospital. He resigned as lieutenant colonel of the First Texas Infantry on November 12, 1863. At that time, he was simply diagnosed with “fatigue.” Today, he would most probably be diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD). After dozens of battles, a number of them requiring hand-to-hand fighting, witnessing hundreds of men die horrible deaths or sustaining disfiguring wounds following his orders, personally killing an unknown number of the enemy, seeing the effects of war every day for over a year, and the stress of almost constant battle, every day waking up never knowing if that day would be his last, nothing else could be expected.

He returned to Texas in late 1863, but just 8 months later, raised and commanded a company in Col. David Smith Terry's Texas Cavalry regiment. Returning to the war, Philip fought in battles in Kentucky and Tennessee under Lt. Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest. His company of men fought in numerous skirmishes as part of the forces under Gen. Joe Johnston that attempted to slow Sherman’s "march to the sea" during the final months of the war. Philip and the remaining Terry’s Rangers delivered what was probably the last charge of the Army of Tennessee at the battle of Bentonville (March 19–20, 1865). Rather than surrender with the rest of Johnston's army at Durham Station, North Carolina, on April 26, 1865, Philip and 157 of the 248 survivors of the regiment slipped through Union lines to join other Confederates that were still in the field. At the actual end of the war, the few remaining Rangers, including Philip, drifted home as individuals and in small groups, having never officially surrendered. 

With the exception of Hood’s Texas Brigade, the Eighth Texas Cavalry was probably the best-known Texas unit to serve in the Civil War. It earned a reputation that ranked it among the most effective mounted regiments in the western theater of operations. Against all odds, against all reason, Philip Work not only survived, but remained virtually unharmed through dozens of battles while serving with two of the most infamous combat units in the Civil War.

Philip Work's simple grave marker.

Work returned to Texas and resumed his law practice in Woodville. After 1874, he lived in Hardin County, Texas, where he became well-known as a land lawyer and the owner of the steamboat Tom Parker, which navigated the Neches River. Late in his life, he wrote several accounts of his wartime experiences, but unfortunately, only fragments of these manuscripts have been preserved.

Philip A. Work died on March 17, 1911, and was buried in Hardin Cemetery in Kountz, Texas, a very rural, quiet graveyard. Rest in peace, Philip, rest in peace.

The Last Civil War Soldier Killed In Battle



The last known picture of 
John Jefferson Williams.

In the summer of 1863, the midpoint of the American Civil War, a surge of patriotic fervor swept the north. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia had been crushed during the three days of hell that ended on July 3 outside of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The next day, Union control of the Mississippi was established when the city of Vicksburg surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant’s forces following a six-week siege. This effectively split the South and severed the Southern supply chain that brought critical food and material from the West to the theaters of war in the East. Many in the North believed these victories heralded a rapid Confederate collapse. Thousands of new recruits volunteered for duty that summer. Many were afraid they would miss an opportunity for great adventure and glory. Some wanted the monetary signing bonuses. However, pure and simple patriotism played a role also as more and more men sought to take part in the preservation of the Union.

One of those volunteers was a young man from Jay County, Indiana, by the name of John Jefferson Williams. He was 20 years old. He reported for duty in September, 1863, and trained at Indiana’s Camp Joe Holt, on the Ohio River just across from Kentucky. Later that autumn, Private Williams was assigned to the Indiana 34^th Regiment Infantry in Louisiana, where he briefly helped patrol Union-occupied New Orleans and the Mississippi Delta, with a short stint along the quiet Central Texas coast. He saw no action; his unit never fired a shot. In December, 1864, came orders to move the Indiana 34^th Regiment to the island of Brazos Santiago, near the mouth of the Rio Grande River. Here they joined with the 62^nd U.S. Colored Troop Regiment to maintain control of the South Texas coast.

Though far removed from the major battlegrounds in the east, far South Texas was not without danger. While the Union blockade had effectively closed most southern ports, a bustling boom town with the name of Bagdad had sprung up in Mexico just south of the mouth of the Rio Grande. At this time, Mexico was little more than a French puppet state ruled by Napoleon III’s cousin, Emperor Maximilian. Smugglers, often aided by Napoleon’s French forces, snuck cotton and other materials across the river to Bagdad’s docks to avoid the Union blockade. It was a dangerous business, both for the Confederate smugglers as well as the Union occupiers. It was not uncommon for Union patrols along the Rio Grande to come under fire from Confederate, Mexican, French, or even Native American snipers across the river. Williams' luck still held though as he and the rest of his unit came to no harm during the next four months.

In March of 1865, with the war drawing to a close, the commanders of both Union and Confederate forces along the Rio Grande reached a gentleman’s agreement to end hostilities. The southern forces knew that without a major change in fortunes, they were engaged in a losing effort and the northern forces knew it was just a matter of time before the war would be over. There was no need for more death and nobody wants to be the last to die. It seemed Private Williams was destined to survive the war without a scratch. The agreement did not sit well with some, however. One who resented this unofficial truce was the white commander of the 62^nd U.S. Colored Regiment, Col. Theodore Barrett.

No one knows why Col. Barrett decided to march on Brownsville, Texas. It was late spring, and Bartlett knew that Lee and Johnston had surrendered their Confederate forces the previous month. Surely, it was just a matter of a few days, before the remaining Confederate forces in remote places like South Texas would lay down their arms. Why did he decide to attack and occupy Brownsville? Having missed the opportunity to lead men in major combat operations, did Col. Barrett desire a last chance for glory before the war came to an end? Or were his motives monetarily driven? Perhaps he wished to seize for himself the large stores of cotton in Brownsville before they could be carried across the river to the wharves of Bagdad. His reasons will never be known, but regardless of his motives, the decision was poorly executed.

Leaving the 34^th Indiana Regiment behind at Brazos Santiago, Col. Barrett ordered 300 men of the 62^nd U.S. Colored Regiment to cross the rough waters that separated Brazos Santiago from the mainland. Once the crossing was complete, the regiment rested for the night to prepare for the next day’s march to Brownsville. Losing the element of surprise due to Confederate sentries on the south bank of the Rio Grande, Union forces engaged a small contingent of Texans at Palmito Ranch on the north side of the river. Although Barrett had the advantage of far superior numbers, the Texans put up a fierce fight and his troops were unable to push through to Brownsville. With daylight waning, they retreated from Palmito Ranch to safer shelter a few miles away. The Union forces had suffered 2 killed and 4 wounded and the Texans had suffered 1 killed and 2 wounded.

The next morning, Union forces once again marched toward Brownsville. The attack this time included 200 reinforcements from the 34^th Indiana Regiment. Once again, they engaged the Confederates at Palmito Ranch. The number of Union forces were overwhelming this time and the Confederates were forced to retreat. The 62^nd Colored Regiment formed a long defensive line to protect Union gains while the Indianans pushed on about a mile past the ranch to high ground within a bend of the Rio Grande. This position was well protected, but the Yankees were still several miles short of Brownsville. Even worse, by positioning themselves inside the bend with the rapid flowing waters of the river surrounding them on three sides and the Confederates now facing them on the fourth, the 34^th Indiana regiment was effectively surrounded.

The engagement went on for several hours with neither side making headway.The Rebels were too few in number to make an attack and the Yankees were well dug in. Remarkably, for all of the shooting going on, there had been no deaths and only a few men wounded on both sides. At about 3:00 however, 300 Confederate reinforcements arrived. There were now 490 Confederates confronting 500 Federals. The situation shifted in the Confederates’ favor as in addition to the 300 reinforcements, they had brought a six-gun battery of artillery.

Headstone of John Jefferson Williams

At 4:00 PM, Union forces came under heavy bombardment from the Confederate artillery. The 62^nd Colored Regiment quickly retreated back to Brazos Santiago leaving the Indiana 34^th skirmish line unsupported. The Confederate commander, an experienced Indian fighter and colonel with the Texas Rangers named John “Rip” Ford, ordered his cavalry to charge. The young Williams fired his rifle at the charging, yelling Rebels, but in his fear and haste, his aim was off and didn't hit anyone. He was standing, reloading his rifle, when one of the Confederate cavalrymen noticed him. As Williams raised his now loaded rifle to fire again, the Rebel quickly aimed his Colt revolver and pulled the trigger. The ball hit Williams just above the right eye and the young volunteer from Indiana fell back into the prairie grass and breathed his last breath.

The Battle of Palmito Ranch was very small in comparison to most of the battles of the Civil War. The number of soldiers who took part numbered in the hundreds, not thousands. The casualty count was also quite small. Confederate losses on the second day of battle were 6 wounded. Union casualties that day amounted to 1 killed, 9 wounded and 105 captured. The captives would not remain prisoners for long. Just a few days after the battle, Colonel “Rip” Ford ordered their release and he told his own men to go home. The Civil War was over.

With the disbandment of Confederate control in South Texas, the bodies of those killed at Palmito Ranch were turned over to Union authorities. Ironically, they were buried on the grounds of Fort Brown in Brownsville, Texas, the town Union forces had failed to take during the battle. In 1867, the bodies of all soldiers buried at Fort Brown were disinterred and reburied at Alexandria National Cemetery in Louisiana. Williams was laid to rest in Section B, Site 797.

At least 623,656 men died in that terrible war. Private John Jefferson Williams was the last.

Boy Hero of the Confederacy

The rope was new and therefore it stretched, the condemned was slight in stature, and the distance from the bed of the wagon to the ground wasn't far enough. Instead of breaking his neck and a quick, merciful death, the condemned's tiptoes touched the dirt and he slowly strangled, struggling and jerking for almost 5 minutes. Women observers and a few men became sick and at least one battle-hardened soldier fainted. Finally, two of the enemy soldiers took pity, or maybe they just couldn't stand to watch the spectacle any more themselves, and each grabbed one of the hanging legs and pulled down, adding weight to hasten his death. It was a freezing, overcast day on January 8, 1864 and David Owen Dodd had just been executed as a Southern spy. He was 17 years old.

David Dodd's grave in Mount Holly Cemetery

David was born in Lavaca County, Texas on November 10, 1846 to a well-to-do family who owned several business ventures. The Dodd family had moved to Little Rock, Arkansas a few years after David was born and were living there when the Civil War broke out. David's father became a sutler, selling provisions to the Southern army. David, being too young to be drafted into the war, became a cadet at St. John's College. In September, 1863, he took a break from his studies to accompany his father on a buying trip to Mississippi, but while they were gone, the Federals captured Little Rock.

David, due to his age, was obviously not a combatant so his father thought it was safer for him to return to Little Rock to escort his mother and 2 sisters to Mississippi where his father had found a place to live. With the proper passes in hand, he was able to find passage for them on a boat heading south, but it was crowded with Yankee soldiers who amused themselves with abusive language toward the ladies so they got off of the boat before it got underway and went back home.

The senior Dodd soon sent word that he was in the process of getting the proper paperwork which would allow him to fetch his family himself. While waiting for Dad to come get them, David earned money for the family by clerking in stores selling provisions to the Union soldiers. In one of the ironies of this war, for a short time, the father was selling provisions to the southern army while the son sold provisions to the northern army. Eventually, after a harrowing trip in a buckboard wagon, all members of the Dodd family made it to what they considered the safety of Mississippi.

Being ever the business man and looking for an opportunity to make a profit, the elder Dodd concocted a plan to buy a large amount of tobacco. With the northern troops burning the southern crops, tobacco was becoming a rare commodity so the plan was to buy as much tobacco as possible, store it for a while and then sell it at the higher price as it became ever more scarce. Mr. Dodds was a little short of the needed funds so he decided to call on his associates back in Little Rock to get them to join the venture and pool their money. David was once again dispatched to Union controlled Little Rock.

While getting a pass which would get David safely through the Southern territory, General Fagan, as he was signing his approval of the document, said, "I expect a full report when you return." Whether he said this in jest, as he professed for the rest of his life, or if it was a veiled order which David took seriously, has always been up for debate.

David made it back to the Union lines and with the business documents and Southern pass along with his birth certificate showing he was underage and therefore considered neutral, he acquired an approved pass through the Northern controlled territory. He arrived in Little Rock a few days before Christmas and by all accounts, concluded his business and also attended several holiday parties. He spent considerable time in the company of a very fetching young lady, 16-year-old Mary Dodge who was an ardent southern supporter. Her father, a native of Vermont, was a supporter of the north and had become friends with several of the high-ranking Yankee officers. These officers often spent time in Mr. Dodge's home where his daughter, no doubt, overheard their conversations as they sat in the home's parlor damaging the area's stock of alcoholic beverages.

On December 29th, David, riding a mule, reluctantly left the company of Mary for his journey back to Mississippi. As he crossed out of the Union-controlled territory, the last Yankee guard took his Union pass and tore it up since he would no longer be needing it. David took a road which led to Hot Springs to spend the night with an uncle. Early the next morning, he left his uncle and took a shortcut back to the road to Benton. Unknown to him, this shortcut curved back into Union occupied land for a short way. Just before making it around a curve which would have placed him back into what was considered Southern controlled territory, a small Yankee patrol seized him for questioning. Now without a Union pass, he was brought back to regimental headquarters to be interrogated. While there, David handed over a small leather book. Upon inspection, the book was found to contain a series of dots and dashes which were quickly identified as Morse code. The deciphered message pinpointed the precise location and strength of Union forces in the Little Rock area. David was immediately arrested.

With questioning, it was apparent David did not know Morse code very well. It also became apparent he was not able to compile so much detailed information in the short time he had been in Little Rock, plus, he was very naive about military jargon, much of which was contained within the message. The authorities knew they had captured the messenger, but the spy was still out there. Within days, he was tried and convicted of being a spy and, as was the custom, sentenced to death. The Union general in charge of Little Rock, Frederick Steele, offered Dodd his freedom in exchange for the names of those who supplied him with the dispositions of Union forces. David responded, “I can give my life for my country but I cannot betray a friend.”

A quick investigation led to the loose-tongued Union officers drinking at the Dodge home. David's affection for Mary was well known, as was her Southern support. It didn't take much to ascertain where David had gotten his information about the Union forces. General Steele, the Union Commander of the forces in Little Rock was reluctant to execute a boy of 17 much less a girl of 16 so the investigation closed almost as quickly as it had opened. Within 3 days, Mr. Dodge and young Mary had left Little Rock under an armed guard, boarded a Union gunboat on the Arkansas River and waited out the rest of the war in Vermont.

There was ice on the ground the morning of January 8th, just ten days after he had first been arrested. David put on the suit in which he was to be buried. He rode in an open wagon under close guard out of the gates of the military prison, straddling his own coffin, passing not far from his own grave. The wagon halted in front of St. John's Masonic College, where David had been a cadet not that long ago. Witnesses reported that he was a bit drawn and pale, but calm and resolute.

The tailgate of the wagon was propped horizontal. David stood on it under a yoke which had been built for the occasion. The hangman (a man with the unfortunate name, given his profession, of DeKay) took David's coat. DeKay noticed he had forgotten to bring a blindfold. David mentioned there was a handkerchief in his coat. The blindfold was fastened. David's hands and feet were tied. The rope was fixed around David's neck and the prop knocked from under the tailgate.

Buried in Little Rock's Mount Holly Cemetery not far from where he was so gruesomely hung, David Dodd is today considered a Southern hero and is referred to as “The Boy Martyr of the Confederacy.” The truth of the code in his little leather book has never been uncovered. Mary Dodge passed from history and nothing more is known of her. The talkative officers who frequented the Dodge house were transferred to distant posts and they too passed from history. That left David, the only other person who knew for sure, and he took it to his grave.

D.C. Trip - Day 2 Appomattox

The morning of Day 2, I awoke early, took my shower, turned on the lights and woke up the girls at 6:45, packed my stuff and hauled it down to the car, pleaded with the girls to get out of bed ‘cause “we’re burning daylight,” grabbed my iPad and found my way down to the hotel lobby for a cup of coffee and the free breakfast.

We left at 8:30. That’s not a misprint – 8:30! A new world record time for us to leave! I told the girls how much I loved them just then, got out a calendar to mark the date for the new record leaving time, stopped at a gas station to feed the Honda, and off we went for a new day’s adventure.

Appomattox Court House.

We decided to take a small detour on our way to D.C. to see Appomattox Court House. The momma-woman can take Civil War stuff or leave it, but being a native-born Texan with ancestors who fought and died during that terrible time, I’m a bit of a nut about it. She knows and is an understanding and very patient spouse so she was OK with the side-trip.

In the words of Charles Kuralt – thanks to the interstate highway system, it is possible to go from coast to coast without seeing anything. Having spent the whole first day of our trip seeing nothing on I-40, we hooked up with I-81 not far outside of Knoxville and I prepared myself for more hours of boring driving. However, I was very pleasantly surprised to find it actually rather pretty and interesting due to the terrain – very large hills, plenty of trees, and interesting architecture of the houses we passed. Momma-woman stayed awake most of the time and we enjoyed several nice conversations along the way. Even Youngest-daughter put aside her Nook, looked at the countryside, asked a few questions and took part in several conversations. It was turning out to be a very good day indeed!

The McLean House where the
surrender took place.

We jumped off the interstate in Roanoke and took Hwy 460 east. It’s a 4-lane road, smooth, and again, because of the interesting terrain, was rather enjoyable to drive. We stopped for lunch in Lynchburg and finally made it to the Appomattox National Historic Park at about 3:30 – pretty good timing since the park closes at 5:00 and the last Ranger guided tour starts at 4:00.

It’s a very interesting park and the Rangers were, as usual, very friendly, interesting, and informative. We received basically personal attention from everyone because other than one other guy, we were the only visitors. We visited the houses, the stores, the jail, and the courthouse of the Appomattox Courthouse community; we walked the dirt roads where General Robert E. Lee, General Ulysses S. Grant, their men and all of the other civil war soldiers walked; and we visited the McLean house where the actual surrender took place on April 9, 1865. To stand there, especially in the actual parlor of the house where such an historical event took place, was humbling. The Ranger lady was very good. She led us to the spot, told the story, filled in some interesting details, then just stood back and let us stand there in silence, actually feeling the history, the smells of the house, trying to picture the surrender ceremony, trying to comprehend the weight of the decision on General Lee’s shoulders knowing that after 4 years of such hard struggles, of so much suffering and death, he was about to change the course of history by signing his name to a piece of paper saying, “We will lay down our guns, we will fight no more, we will change our way of life. It’s over.”


Ranger giving tour in the cold.

If you would like to read what I think is a really interesting story about Wilmer McLean and the surrender ceremony, please see one of my other entries here: Wilmer McLean.

We left the park at 5:15 and headed back east toward Lynchburg where we caught Hwy 29 before reaching the town and headed north. I’m sure Hwy 29 would be a joy to drive during the daylight hours as it is mostly just 2 lanes with almost continuous curves through hill, valley and dale, but I’m afraid my night vision isn’t as good as it once was and the sun had already gone to bed. With all of the blind, dark curves and only a memory of yellow and white lines left to hint at guidance, I decided it would be best for younger, sharper-eyed Momma-woman to take the wheel. It was OK because I’m such a good co-pilot. I will often offer calm, helpful guidance. When a car slows down in front of us, I calmly slam my foot into the floorboard and say “Slow down!” Helpful mumbles of “Watch out!” and “Do you see that car slowing down up ahead?!” and “You’re taking this curve too fast!” and “We’re all going to die!!” are somewhat common. It’s beyond me why she doesn’t seem to appreciate my help.

Daughter in the old
Appomattox jail.

After a couple of hours which seemed longer, we safely reached Charlottesville and found a Hampton Inn located next to a nice shopping center. This time we only removed from the car the bags we would need rather than everything, including the kitchen sink which I was pretty sure the girls had also packed. We were able to walk to a Chili’s right around the corner for supper. Not much to say about that – it was Chili’s – decent food at a decent price, but not something to gush over. Once again, the hotel was nice, the front desk staff friendly and welcoming, the beds were fine. And like the previous night, we relaxed for a while, and soon found ourselves in bed and asleep before the clock struck 11:00. We’ll be in D.C. tomorrow!