The Perilous Picket Post

[NH Civil War Gal]

The fact is they - Va. men - don't care a great deal which whips. The S.C. men are rabid. There are many words between them & our men but they are all very uncivil. They will fire at us and yell out "take that you d---d Michiganders." Ours will reply "go to h--l you d---d fools you cant hit anybody" and all the other abusive remarks they

I found this exchange so interesting.

There was an unwritten code of honor among the infantry that forbade the shooting of men while attending to the imperative calls of nature, and these sharpshooting brutes were constantly violating that rule. I hated sharpshooters, both Confederate and Union, in those days, and I was always glad to see them killed.

I never thought about this before and this was interesting and that he thought of sharpshooters as simply murders. I wonder what the rest of the troops, in general, either side, felt about them?

 

[Peace Society]

The infantry realized sharpshooters were killing their counterparts indiscriminately. I thought ss were supposed to concentrate on officers.

 

[Peace Society]

Picket Post 4 miles south of Murfreesboro, Tenn., May 19, 1863

Oh, it is such a treat to get out on this kind of picket duty. It is like getting out of town after a hard day when there is a large gathering. We expect to stay here 5 days. Wish it was a month.

B. W. (Webb) Baker 25 IL, Co E
Letter to his mother

p. 229, Testament, Benson Bobrick, 2003
Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, NY

 

[Peace Society]

Appomattox Court House
4-9-65

There was nothing that resembled guard duty that night. It resembled a picnic rather than a picket line.

Charles Dunn, pvt
20th Maine

quoted in Pursuit to Appomattox: The Last Battle, Jerry Korn, Time-Life Books, Alexandria VA, 1987, p. 152

 

[Pollaco]

There is a painting in a Richmond museum by Conrad Wise Chapman depicting a picket.It is said to be sort of a self portrait of that artist.It came to mind

when I read the title to this thread. Plus the character in the painting looks amazingly like a nephew of mine.

 

[bankerpapaw]

The Perilous Picket Post #2

(fraternization)

1 TN, Co. H
Missionary Ridge 1863

At this place the Yankee outpost was on one side of the Tennessee river, and ours on the other. I was on the detail one Sunday commanded by Sergeant John T. Tucker. When we were approaching we heard the old guard and the Yankee picket talking back and forth across the river. The new guard immediately resumed the conversation. We had to halloo at the top of our voices, the river being about three hundred yards wide at this point. But there was a little island about the middle of the river. A Yankee hallooed out, "O, Johnny, Johnny, meet me half way in the river on the island." "All right," said Sergeant Tucker, who immediately undressed all but his hat, in which he carried the Chattanooga Rebel and some other Southern newspapers, and swam across to the island. When he got there the Yankee was there, but the Yankee had waded. I do not know what he and John talked about, but they got very friendly, and John invited him to come clear across to our side, which invitation he accepted. I noticed at the time that while John swam, the Yankee waded, remarking that he couldn't swim. The river was but little over waist deep. Well, they came across and we swapped a few lies, canteens and tobacco, and then the Yankee went back, wading all the way across the stream. That man was General Wilder, commanding the Federal cavalry, and at the battle of Missionary Ridge he threw his whole division of cavalry across the Tennessee river at that point, thus flanking Bragg's army, and opening the battle. He was examining the ford, and the swapping business was but a mere by-play. He played it sharp, and Bragg had to get further.

1861 vs. 1882: "Co. Aytch," Maury Grays, First Tennessee Regiment
Samuel R Watkins, 1882

"Co. Aytch": A Side Show of the Big Show; Macmillan Publ. Co., 1962
Co. Aytch: A Confederate Memoir of the Civil War; Simon & Shuster; 1990, p. 98-99




(fraternization and…)


1 TN, Co. H
Missionary Ridge 1863

One morning Theodore Sloan, Hog Johnson and I were standing picket at the little stream that runs along at the foot of Lookout Mountain. In fact, I would be pleased to name our captain, Fulcher, and Lieutenant Lansdown, of that guard on this occasion, because we acted as picket for the whole three days' engagement without being relieved, and haven't been relieved yet. But that battle has gone into history. We heard a Yankee call, "O, Johnny, Johnny Reb!" I started out to meet him as formerly, when he hallooed out, "Go back, Johnny, go back; we are ordered to fire on you." "What is the matter? Is your army going to advance on us?" "I don't know; we are ordered to fire." I jumped back into the picket post, and a minnie ball ruined the only hat I had; another and another followed in quick succession, and the dirt flew up in our faces off our little breastworks. Before night the picket line was engaged from one end to the other.

… I know nothing about the battle; how Grant, with one wing, went up the river, and Hooker's corps went down Wills valley, etc. I heard fighting and commanding and musketry all day long, but I was still on picket. Balls were passing over our heads, both coming and going. I could not tell whether I was standing picket for Yankees or Rebels. I knew that the Yankee line was between me and the Rebel line, for I could see the battle right over the tunnel. We had been placed on picket at the foot of Lookout Mountain, but we were five miles from that place now. If I had tried to run in I couldn't. I had got separated from Sloan and Johnson somehow; in fact, was waiting either for an advance of the Yankees, or to be called in by the captain of the picket. … The Yankees were swarming everywhere. They were passing me all day with their dead and wounded, going back to Chattanooga. No one seemed to notice me; they were passing to and fro, cannon, artillery, and everything. I was willing to be taken prisoner, but no one seemed disposed to do it. I was afraid to look at them, and I was afraid to hide, for fear some one's attention would be attracted toward me. I wished I could make myself invisible. I think I was invisible. I felt that way anyhow.

… About two or three o'clock, a column of Yankees advancing to the attack swept right over where I was standing. I was trying to stand aside to get out of their way, but the more I tried to get out of their way, the more in their way I got. I was carried forward, I knew not whither. We soon arrived at the foot of the ridge, at our old breastworks. … I was in front of the enemy's line, and was afraid to run up the ridge, and afraid to surrender. They were ordered to charge up the hill. There was no firing from the Rebel lines in our immediate front. They kept climbing and pulling and scratching until I was in touching distance of the old Rebel breastworks, right on the very apex of Missionary Ridge. I made one jump, and I heard Captain Turner, who had the very four Napoleon guns we had captured at Perryville, halloo out, "Number four, solid!" And then a roar. The next order was "Limber to the rear."

… The whole army was routed. I ran on down the ridge, and there was our regiment, the First Tennessee, with their guns stacked, and drawing rations as if nothing was going on. Says I, "Colonel Field, what's the matter? The whole army is routed and running; hadn't you better be getting away from here? The Yankees are not a hundred yards from here. Turner's battery has surrendered. Day's brigade has thrown down their arms; and look yonder; that is the Stars and Stripes." He remarked very coolly, "You seem to be demoralized. We've whipped them here. We've captured two thousand prisoners and five stands of colors."

Just at this time General Bragg and staff rode up. … Says he, "What's this? Ah, ha, have you stacked your arms for a surrender?" "No, sir," says Field. "Take arms, shoulder arms, by the right flank, file right, march," just as cool and deliberate as if on dress parade. Bragg looked scared. He had put spurs to his horse, and was running like a scared dog before Colonel Field had a chance to answer him. Every word of this is a fact. We at once became the rear guard of the whole army.

1861 vs. 1882: "Co. Aytch," Maury Grays, First Tennessee Regiment
Samuel R Watkins, 1882

"Co. Aytch": A Side Show of the Big Show; Macmillan Publ. Co., 1962
Co. Aytch: A Confederate Memoir of the Civil War; Simon & Shuster; 1990, p. 100-103






(enemies?)

1 TN, Co. H
Near Atlanta
July 1864

While I was looking toward the Yankee line, I saw a man riding leisurely along on horseback, and singing a sort of humdrum tune. I took him to be some old citizen. He rode on down the road toward me, and when he had approached, "Who goes there?" He immediately answered, "A friend." I thought that I recognized the voice in the darkness - and said I, "Advance, friend, but you are my prisoner." He rode on toward me, and I soon saw that it was Mr. Mumford Smith, the old sheriff of Maury county. I was very glad to see him, and as soon as the relief guard came, I went back to camp with him. I do not remember of ever in my life being more glad to see any person. He had brought a letter from home….

1861 vs. 1882: "Co. Aytch," Maury Grays, First Tennessee Regiment
Samuel R Watkins, 1882

"Co. Aytch": A Side Show of the Big Show; Macmillan Publ. Co., 1962
Co. Aytch: A Confederate Memoir of the Civil War; Simon & Shuster; 1990, p. 162

Interesting. I wonder when we went from "Turkey Bumps" to "Goose Bumps"?

 

[CarolinasCampaign]

Here is an excerpt from a letter written by Confederate corporal Henry Jeffers, doing picket duty across the river from Yankees stationed at Port Royal, South Carolina:

Pocotaligo, March 29th, 1862
Dear Pa,

We have now commenced to do Picket duty and have not the safest post to guard. Our pickets are on Coosaw River opposite Halls Island. We can see the Yankees on the Island opposite and from their actions seem to be overlooking negros which we see at work in the fields. Some pickets who are near us and on whom our Safety much depends told their Captain that they would not stay in no such dangerous place.

The Captain told our pickets that if they heard an alarm they must look out for themselves as his men would not give us the alarm. This was just before dark. About 11 o'clock that night we heard four guns one after the other and then a scampering of horses. We laid low and waited for further developments, but all was quiet from that time untill morning. Of course it was all in the imagination that these fellows saw the enemy. . . .

Do any of Cpl. Jeffers letters discuss the Jan-Feb, 1865, time period?

 

[Peace Society]

61 IL, Owl Creek, siege of Corinth

One day I accidentally overheard two intelligent boys of my company talking about me, and one said, "If Stillwell aint sent north purty soon, he's goin' to make a die of it;" to which the other assented. That scared me good, and set me to thinking. I had no use for the hospital, wouldn't go there, and abominated the idea of taking medicine. But I was so bad off I was not marked for duty, my time was all my own, so I concluded to get out of camp as much as possible, and take long walks in the big woods. I found a place down on the creek between two picket posts where it was easy to sneak through and get out into the country, and I proceeded to take advantage of it. It was where a big tree had fallen across the stream, making a sort of natural bridge, and I "run the line" there many a time. It was delightful to get out into the clean, grand old woods, and away from the mud, and filth, and bad smells of the camp, and my health began to improve.

Leander Stillwell, 1914
The Story of a Common Soldier of Army Life in the Civil War, 1861-1865

 

[Peace Society]

Here is someone who actually appreciates sharpshooters.

Picketing on the Rapidan at Raccoon Ford
Oct. 9, 1863
Our lines are so close to those of the rebels that we can hear orders given to relief parties as they throw up rifle pits within easy musket range. When we first came here (or rather previous to our coming) no sentinel was safe upon his post because of the beastly, murderous practice of shooting at men on duty. With our boys we sent a regiment of sharp shooters with telescopic guns, capable of killing a man at half a mile, and in their hands a perfectly sure thing of hitting whatever they shot at. Only three days elapsed before a party, under protection of flag of truce, came into camp and requested that no more firing should be kept up while men were doing duty on picket! We had taught them a wholesome lesson - one never to be forgotten, for every time a sharp shooter discharged his gun (and that was very often, as our lines were within hailing distance) up popped a reb in air, - and dead upon the ground he fell, to be dragged off by his comrades or more frequently left until night and thus removed under cover of the darkness. I say we taught them a lesson, and so we did, for now our men and theirs freely meet, exchange papers, trade coffee and sugar for tobacco, and fraternize in the most pleasant manner imaginable.
Daniel M Holt, asst surgeon, 121 NY
Letter to wife Louisa

Posted with permission
A Surgeon's Civil War: The Letters and Diary of Daniel M Holt, MD
Editors James M Greiner, Janet L Coryell, James R Smither
The Kent State University Press, Kent, Ohio 1994
https://www.kentstateuniversitypress.com/2010/a-surgeons-civil-war/
p. 141-2

 

[unionblue]

These letters tell me that soldiers are practical men, even when on opposing sides.

 

[Peace Society]

Alone on picket at night
(emphasis mine)
61 IL

…there are so many things that are strange and attractive, to be seen and heard, when one is standing alone on picket, away out in some lonesome place, in the middle of the night. I think that a man who has never spent some wakeful hours in the night, by himself, out in the woods, has simply missed one of the most interesting parts of life. The night is the time when most of the wild things are astir, and some of the tame ones, too. There was some kind of a very small frog in the swamps and marshes near Bolivar [TN] that gave forth about the most plaintive little cry that I ever heard. It was very much like the bleating of a young lamb, and, on hearing it the first time, I though sure it was from some little lamb that was lost, or in distress of some kind. I never looked the matter up to ascertain of what particular species those frogs were. They may be common throughout the South, but I never heard this particular call except around and near Bolivar. And the woods between Bolivar and Toone's were full of owls, from great big fellows with a thunderous scream, down to the little screech owls, who made only a sort of chattering noise. One never failing habit of the big owls was to assemble in some grove of tall tress just about daybreak, and have a morning concert, that could be heard half a mile away. And there were also whippoorwills, and mocking birds, and, during the pleasant season of the year, myriads of insects that would keep sounding their shrill little notes the greater part of the night. And the only time one sees a flying squirrel, (unless you happen to cut down the tree in whose hollow he is sleeping,) is in the night time. They are then abroad in full force.

When on picket in my army days I found out that dogs are great nocturnal ramblers. I have been on guard at a big tree, on some grass-grown country road, when something would be heard coming down the road towards me; pat, pat, pitty-pat, - then it would stop short. The night might be too dark for me to see it, but I knew it must be a dog. It would stand silent for a few seconds, evidently closely scrutinizing that man alone under the tree, with something like a long shining stick in his hands; then it would stealthily leave the road, and would be heard rustling through the leaves as it made a half circle through the woods to get by me. On reaching the road below me, its noise would cease for a little while, - it was then looking back over its shoulder to see if that man was still there. Having satisfied itself on that point, then - pat, pat, pitty-pat, and it went off in a trot down the road. When you see an old farm dog asleep in the sun on the porch in the day time, with his head between his paws, it is, as a general rule, safe to assume that he was up and on a scout all the previous night, and maybe traveled ten or fifteen miles. Cats are also confirmed night prowlers, but I don't think they wander as far as dogs. Later, when we were in Arkansas, sometimes a full grown bear would walk up to some drowsy picket, and give him the surprise of his life.

One quiet, star-lit summer night, while on picket between Bolivar and Toone's, I had the good fortune to witness the flight of the largest and most brilliant meteor I ever have seen. It was a little after midnight, and I was standing alone at my post, looking, listening, and thinking. Suddenly there came a loud, rushing, roaring sound, like a passenger train close by, going at full speed, and there in the west was a meteor! Its flight was from the southwest to the northeast, parallel with the horizon, and low down. Its head, or body, looked like a huge ball of fire, and it left behind a long, immense tail of brilliant white, that lighted up all the western heavens. While yet in full view, it exploded with a crash like a near-by clap of thunder, there was a wide, glittering shower of sparks, - and then silence and darkness. The length of time it was visible could not have been more than a few seconds, but it was a most extraordinary spectacle.

Leander Stillwell, 1914
The Story of a Common Soldier of Army Life in the Civil War, 1861-1865
Chapter VIII

 

[Peace Society]

These letters tell me that soldiers are practical men, even when on opposing sides.

At times, they are like friendly competitors in the same business (unfortunately, the awful business of war).

 

[Peace Society]

Although his [G A Custer] special forte was the command of cavalry in the field, he was not deficient in camp. He was a good disciplinarian, without being a martinet; particularly thorough in maintaining an effective picket line or outpost service, on which depends the safety of an army in quarters. By unexpected visits to the outposts by day and night, he personally tested the faithfulness and alertness of officers and men on picket duty. On more than one occasion, I have known him to take the trouble to write a letter of commendation to the commander of the regiment on the picket line, praising the manner in which the duty was performed. There was nothing of the military scold in his nature. By timely praise, oftener than by harsh criticism, he stimulated his subordinates to fidelity, watchfulness, and gallantry.

Frederick Whittaker, A Complete Life of Gen. George A. Custer, 1876


[Gen. Custer] went the rounds, inspecting the picket line… he tried several of the boys to see if they knew & would do their duty, wanting to look particularly at their guns. [only the officer of the guard can take a sentry's gun] … Not a carbine could he get, & he was brot up standing more than once. …When thro' he complimented our Regiment highly & passed on.

Roger Hannaford, sgt. 2 OH Cav. (Nettleton's)
Stephen Z Starr, ed. "Winter Quarters Near Winchester, 1864-65: Reminiscences of Roger Hannaford…", The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography (July 1978)


Both quoted in
Gregory J W Urwin,
Custer Victorious: The Civil War Battles of General George Armstrong Custer
U of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, 1983, p. 284

I thought it was interesting the contrast between his War command and afterward. The men volunteering in the War could be inspired to great feats by patriotism and heroism. The men enlisted afterward tended to be just looking for a safe job. Using the same tactics with these men did not produce the same results.

 

[observator]

There is a painting in a Richmond museum by Conrad Wise Chapman depicting a picket.It is said to be sort of a self portrait of that artist.It came to mind View attachment 461392View attachment 461392when I read the title to this thread. Plus the character in the painting looks amazingly like a nephew of mine.

In contrast here is another self Portrait of Chapman as a sentinel (1874) Quarter guard

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/488499890808645437/

Its wintertime but he is warmly dressed and appears alert

In contrast Perilous Picket Post he is still on sentinel duty but is clothing is ragged and worn out
his expression is that not beaten but tired out and apathetic

 

[Peace Society]

Its wintertime but he is warmly dressed and appears alert

In contrast Perilous Picket Post he is still on sentinel duty but is clothing is ragged and worn out
his expression is that not beaten but tired out and apathetic

Are they both self-portraits? Contrast of summer and winter. Cold weather does tend to make one move around more alertly. In winter camp they had the opportunity to draw supplies that they might not get on march in the summer.

 

[Pollaco]

There is a book about J. G. Walkers Texas Division by a J P Blessinton. In he wrote the following about picket duty....
"On the 16th (Jan. 1864) it commenced snowing at noon time; by sunset some four or five inches had fallen.During the night it commenced to freeze, which was pretty severe on the troops that were on picket. Picket duty is the most dangerous and least cheering part of the service. It has not the excitement of battle, the presence of comrades, the charge, the cheer of the wild huzzah of victory and triumph; it has no such stimulating influences. no matter how cold the weather may be, even in the depth of winter, the advanced pickets are not allowed fire, and dare not walk about to warm themselves".

 

[Peace Society]

There is a book about J. G. Walkers Texas Division by a J P Blessinton. In he wrote the following about picket duty....
"On the 16th (Jan. 1864) it commenced snowing at noon time; by sunset some four or five inches had fallen.During the night it commenced to freeze, which was pretty severe on the troops that were on picket. Picket duty is the most dangerous and least cheering part of the service. It has not the excitement of battle, the presence of comrades, the charge, the cheer of the wild huzzah of victory and triumph; it has no such stimulating influences. no matter how cold the weather may be, even in the depth of winter, the advanced pickets are not allowed fire, and dare not walk about to warm themselves".

did you read some of the picket's comments? some of them actually liked picket duty. bet that was in warmer weather.

 

[Reconstructed Rebel]

did you read some of the picket's comments? some of them actually liked picket duty. bet that was in warmer weather.

When picket duty allowed soldiers to barter with the opposing side it probably was seen as having some advantages.

 

[Reconstructed Rebel]

no matter how cold the weather may be, even in the depth of winter, the advanced pickets are not allowed fire, and dare not walk about to warm themselves".

All of which makes me well believe that under the right conditions, soldiers could freeze to death at their post.

 

[TnFed]

Excellent posts.