Tennessee two-step

Military Images, Jul/Aug 1999 by Norland, Roger

A Small Incident in a Large War

Warfare could be likened to a dance where each person's movement is followed closely by the movement of his partner, with one side taking the lead and the other following. Frequently, soldiers end up sitting out many of the 'dances' and then suddenly find themselves taken up in a swirl of combat when they least expect it. What follows is a true story of what happened to a small group of soldiers from Blue Earth County, Minnesota, in a skirmish in Tennessee.

During the Civil War it was common practice to recruit an entire company from one locale. In this case, Company H of the 2nd Minnesota Infantry was raised in Blue Earth County in the summer of '61. Most of the soldiers were young farm boys, with a sprinkling of merchants, printers, trappers and riverboatmen. Among them was an orphaned farmhand from Garden City named Joseph Burger. Young Burger was only thirteen years old but big for his age; when he lied and claimed to be eighteen, the recruiter must have winked when he let him sign the enlistment papers. Other actors in the drama about to unfold were eighteen year old Byron Pay, younger brother of Mankato hotelier Ben Pay, but who enlisted from Vernon Center; Corporal William Clark, 32, and Nelson Crandall, 22, both from Shelby, Pleasant Mound Township; John Vale from Mapleton; and Samuel Loudon, 21, from Sterling Township. The boys from Mankato included First Sergeant Livilo Holmes; Louis Loudrosh, 21; Charles Liscom, 25; Charles Krause, 29; Milton Hanna and Homer Barnard, who were supposed to be eighteen; Corporal Samuel Wright, 33; James Flannigan, 26; and Samuel Leslie, 19.

On a cold and grey Sunday morning in 1863, the 2nd Minnesota regiment was in Tennessee, encamped near the home of a rebel colonel named Battle along the Nolens Pike just outside Nolensville. Just a few days earlier snow and sleet had fallen, making this February 15th start out rather bleakly. The normal sounds of camp life brought the soldiers out of their frost encrusted tents. Dying embers from last night's campfires were brought to life for hot coffee while crates of hardtack were pried open for a quick breakfast. The blanket-draped soldiers stood around the smoking fires and heard the duty assignments for the day.

A squad of soldiers of Company H were detailed to guard some of the regiment's wagons which were being sent out into the nearby countryside to gather forage for the regiment's mule teams. At the least, the expedition would give the guards an opportunity to get out of camp, with the distinct possibility of finding some eggs or a chicken or two for supper that night.

Accompanying four wagons, the squad from Company H encountered on the road a "contraband" -- soldier slang for any black person -- who told the Minnesotans that they should be wary because five hundred Confederate cavalry were in the area.

The Company H foragers eventually came to their destination and turned into the entrance lane to a farm. This lane was about sixteen feet wide and had a high split rail fence on each side. It led the Yanks into a small open farmstead with a house, barn and small log corncrib. At once the soldiers began emptying the corncrib and transferring its contents to the wagons.

Suddenly, the drumming of horse hooves and the belligerent rebel yell sounded from the road. Gray clad troopers charged down the lane firing their carbines and yelling, "Surrender, you damned Yankees!!!"

Sergeant Holmes hustled his squad into the corncrib. One soldier remembered him saying, "Stick to me and we will give them the best turn in the shop!" Confederate carbine fire peppered the corncrib, splintering wood and wounding three of the defenders -- Holmes, Burger and Liscom in the hip. The Minnesota boys shouted insults at the now dismounted rebels and fired their muskets as fast as they could load and shoot in the cramped confines of the crib. The Southerners replied in kind, their shouts and gunfire mixing with the groans of the wounded and the whinnying of riderless horses. Again they hailed the Yanks and demanded surrender. The boys in blue responded with more musketry. Inside the crib, the infantrymen were no longer cold but were choking from their own gunsmoke, which barely allowed them do see their targets.

The Confederates comprised an oversized company of approximately 125 troopers armed with carbines, rifles and pistols. Their gunfire equaled a veritable storm of lead bullets smashing into the small structure; fortunately the logs of the crib were sturdy and offered much protection to the defenders.

The gunfire had not gone unheard in the camp of the 2nd Minnesota and soon the balance of the regiment came over a nearby hill deployed as skirmishers.

Seeing them, the Rebs withdrew. As they did so, the squad in the corncrib emerged to round up seven horses, several weapons, and three wounded Confederates. One of Holmes's soldiers mounted a captured horse and rode across a field to warn the rest of the command. He was able to head of three Union officers on horseback whose route would have taken them directly into the path of the retreating Rebs. Among the officers was his brigade commander, Colonel F. Van Derveer.