Letter
Written by Robert Leander “Coon” Dunman
TERRY’S
TEXAS RANGERS CSA
Published
in CHAMBERS
COUNTY IN
THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES, by Kevin Ladd
I had just celebrated my nineteenth birthday in February,
1862, when I enlisted at Houston,
Tex., to serve the Southland and was assigned to Company
K, 8th Texas Cavalry, better known as “Terry’s
Texas
Rangers.’ The following month I left with my brother, A. M. (Dick) Dunman, to join our regiment, which was already east of the
Mississippi River. We reached our destination
just after the battle of Shiloh on April 6,
1862. I served throughout the duration of the war, being twice wounded, each
time being shot “clear through.” The first wound was received on August 20,
1864, at East Point,
Ga., when I was shot through he thigh. The incidents leading up to this event were as
follows:
I was on a scouting party with three comrades. The four
of us were riding along together when we were suddenly started by the
appearance of a thousand foemen within twenty feet of us, who had risen up from
behind rocks, trees and logs. They called to us “four horsemen” to halt! For
reply we stuck spurs to our mounts and began shooting with our six—shooters,
putting as much distance between the enemy and ourselves as it was possible to
do, without thought of dignity or decorum. We headed for a line which we hoped
would carry us to safety. Somehow I got cut off from the lane, while the rest
of the party escaped. I found myself by the side of a rail fence with the enemy
in hot pursuit. I jumped off my horse, turned him loose, and struck him with my
whip as he started in the direction my companions had gone. I ran down a gully
or dry wash, where I remained until my pursuers were well out of sight. It was
not until that time that I discovered I had been wounded——shot clear through
the thigh. I pulled off my boot and found it full of blood. A
little while later I saw my companions coming back to look for me. I
could see that they approached cautiously, fearing another surprise. In fun, I
called to them to “halt.” They quickly recognized me, however, and came up to
me leading my horse, which I found had also been wounded by the same bullet
that struck me. The bullet, after through thigh, penetrated
the saddle and had gone back into the back of the animal. Wounded as I
was, I succeeded in getting over the rail fence and climbed up behind Al Walker
of Gonzales, Tex.,
a nephew of Al Walker Sr., who was in the commission business in
St. Louis for many years
after the war.
My wound proved to be a very serious affair, and I was
laid up for about six months. The assistant surgeon who treated me was Dr.
Hill, from Austin,
Tex. When I was able to be around a bit on
crutches, the doctor sent me to his sister, a Mrs. Williamson, who lived at Griffin, Ga.,
and sent his negro man, Crockett, along with me. Mrs.
Williamson was a widow with two daughters, one about grown named Susan, the
younger one about fifteen years old. I had not been
long in the Williamson household when we learned that the enemy was in battle
at Jonesboro, not far from Griffin. Mrs. Williamson became alarmed and
decided to get to her parents, who live in Oglethorpe, so I was taken along
with the family furniture.
Her father, who was a veteran of the battle of
New Orleans, was named Oglethorpe, and the town of
Oglethorpe, Ga.
was named for him. I was treated with great kindness in this Southern home, and
I recall many pleasurable as well as funny incidents which occurred during my
stay there. One Sunday, in company with the two young ladies, I attended
a Methodist camp meeting. The preacher had stirred his congregation to a fervid
heat, and some of the more emotional ones commenced to shout and fall about
over the seats. I was on crutches and was unable to get out to a place
of safety. I backed into a corner and used of my crutches as a means of defense
to protect my wounded leg from the onslaughts of the frenzied shouters.
After six months I was about recovered from my wound and
began making preparations to return to my company. Before I left the Oglethorpe
home, however, my host had his Negroes spin thread out of which they wove the
cloth to make me a uniform. Miss Susan Williamson took the cloth to a tailor in
Oglethorpe and had a brand new, perfect fitting uniform made for me. I then
joined my company at Rome,
Ga.
The second wound I received was on February 4, 1865,
while in a skirmish at Barkers Crossroads, S.C., at which time I was shot in
the shoulder, the bullet coming out just above the shoulder blade. This also
caused me to be laid up for some time for “repairs.”
I was destined to become one of the original members of
Shannon’s Scouts, and it may be of interested to relate here an incident which
led up to the origin of this organization.
That memorable day in 1864 when
Sherman s army on its famous march to the sea, had shelled
Atlanta, Gen.
(John B.] Hood requested the colonel of our regiment (Col. Tom
Harrison, 8th Texas]
to select an officer and pick men for a special detail. This detail consisted
of penetrating Sherman’s lines for the purpose
of examining the battery which had been used to shell Atlanta that day. Colonel Harrison selected
Capt. A. M. Shannon, of Galveston,
with the request that he pick his own men for this detail. He accordingly chose
Lew Compton, of Company C; Bill Kyle, of Company I,
and myself, of Company K. We each donned Yankee breeches as our only disguise,
and under the friendly cover of darkness we went through Sherman’s lines. After completing to our
satisfaction the examination of the battery, we went up and down the lines,
taking a horse apiece from among those we found tethered there -- and you may
be sure we each made good selections! We made our way out through a cornfield.
The corn was in the roasting ear stage, sufficiently tall for us to keep pretty
well hidden by it from the sight of the enemy. As we walked through the corn,
each man kept well concealed behind his horse, letting him browse past the
sentries until we were safely out of sight. Then we mounted our newly acquired
steeds and rode them back to headquarters. This detail of Captain Shannon and
his three picked men was the origin of “Shannon’ s Scouts.
On another occasion Shannon’s
Scouts (there were eighteen of us in this party) ran into a brigade of Yanks.
We were quite as much surprised as they were, but rather than let them discover
our weakness in number, we began yelling and shooting as we came, making enough
noise and bedlam for several times our number. We had approached from the rear,
and they evidently thought the entire Confederate army was after them, for they
started to run and kept on going through three miles of thick underbrush before
they stopped! That was one time when “bluff” probably saved our hides!
It was a cavalryman’s business to keep mounted, and we
had to be a pretty resourceful bunch of young fellows to do this. If our horses
were shot from
under us, we usually “managed” to get another one! As a cavalryman I was never
compelled to walk but one day during the entire war! While fighting around
Knoxville, my horse was killed, and I had to walk from
Knoxville to Kingston,
Tenn., a distance of about twenty
five or thirty miles. I reached Kingston
with feet badly blistered. Blistered feet, however, were
a negligible quantity compared to the many greater hardships the Southern army
suffered. I recall that in February 1863, a brigade, composed of the 8th and
11th Texas, 3rd Arkansas,
and 4th Tennessee were sent to capture Fort
Donelson. We were in the
Cumberland Mountains in Tennessee
and the snow was three feet deep. Six of our men froze to death on this trip.
We were just about to take Fort
Donelson when enemy
gunboats came up the Tennessee River and
opened fire, cutting from the trees along the banks limbs as large as man’s
body. We were forced to retire, but before we did so, we captured six pieces of
artillery. These were rifled pieces known as “Parrott” guns. With these
captured guns as a nucleus, there was then organized from our regiment an
artillery company Lieutenant Pugh as captain of battery. These “Parrott” guns,
however, were too heavy to carry along with a company of cavalry, so we traded
them to the Confederate government for four little howitzers. Each of these
howitzers was drawn by four horses attached to it.
After we retired from this engagement at
Fort Donelson,
we went into winter camp on the Duck
River at Shelbyville,
Tenn. Here I was stricken with
pneumonia and lay in a tent (in February weather) for four or five weeks
without any medical attention whatever. My diet consisted mostly of whisky and
eggs. The commissary furnished the whisky, and my brother, Dick Dunman, who was my nurse, “rustled” the eggs. And I’ll say,
too, that I never lacked for eggs! All of which goes to prove that the Southern
soldier was “resourceful” in more ways than one from supplying himself with a
mount, to securing fresh eggs for breakfast! We remained in camp at Shelbyville
until Sherman’s
army came down in the spring of 1864. That same night Shannon’s Scouts started
from Nashville.
We had supplied ourselves with horses and rode to the enemy’s line. There we
saw about five hundred head of cattle in a pen, sufficient to furnish enemy rations
for many days to come. As we could not take the cattle along with us, we did
the next best thing we could think of, and
that was to open the gate and let them all out!
There were six brothers of us and one cousin (Joe Dunman), who was reared in one family, who entered the
Southern army about the same time. My brother Henry went with Terry’s Rangers
when they first left Texas.
he got sick and was sent home. Later he joined Green’s
Brigade and was killed at the battle of Mansfield, La., in April, 1864. A younger brother, Sol,
and my cousin Joe, were killed the next day at
Pleasant Hill, La.,
fighting General Banks’s army. Another brother,
Daniel, died in 1865 after returning home from the war. Out of the seven of us
who went away, only three were left.
In 1866 I was married to Miss Lu E. Winfree,
of Liberty County,
Tex., and last October we celebrated our
fifty sixth anniversary. We have four children
living, two girls and two boys, three of whom reside near us, and one daughter
lives in California. Our eldest daughter passed away in South America nearly two years ago.
(In sending this article to the VETERAN, Comrade Dunman’s daughter writes that just a few days ago he
celebrated his eightieth birthday. She adds: “He is unusually young looking,
active, and his head is covered with a heavy thatch of hair, as brown to—day as
it was in the sixties. He takes a daily ride on his pony, cantering as briskly
as he did forty years ago. My father has been a thirty second degree mason for
more than forty years. He is a pioneer resident of Coleman,
Tex., moving there in 1879 from South Texas. He amassed a fortune in cattle and lands,
but business reverses swept it away, and with the courage of a true Southern
soldier he demonstrated his ability to come back, ‘ and to—day lives in
peace and comfort, enjoying the fruits of a full life and family.”)
From Confederate Veteran, XXXI, 1923, pp. 102—103
SHANNON’S SCOUTS
Captain Alexander May Shannon of the 8th Terry’s Texas Rangers led
his guerrilla fighters behind enemy lines many times to report on
fortifications, strengths, and to cause havoc among Federal positions.
These talented horsemen came from different companies within the
8th Terry’s Texas
Rangers. Numbers of these men ran anywhere from 3 to 30 men on one detail. Mostly keeping to 25 men on duty at one time. The Scouts
were never much publicized, but their exploits kept secret more or less. They
were also known as Shannon’s Scouts, John Bell
Hood’s Special Scouts, and Wheeler’s Scouts. They spent days at a time out
behind Federal lines destroying or capturing horses, wagons with food stores,
and fighting small groups of infantry, light cavalry units, and killing numbers
of Federal scouts, foragers, and men out on pickets. These seasoned fighting
men were ordered to harass and punish the enemy during these missions many
times during the Civil War. These exploits are what made them famous during the
war and very much so many years after the war.
These "Tough Texas Horsemen" not only came from the Texas
8th but other units as well, the Texas 4th, the Texas 11th, and Company I of
the 51st Alabama Regiment, which at the time reported to General Wheeler, and
for a time they fought under General John Bell Hood during the war. The
exploits of Terry’s Texas Rangers did not
really catch the eye of the public until issues of the "Confederate
Veteran" shed some light on this secret services reconnaissance unit until
late 1897, and up to around 1920’s from family members and reunion survivors of
the Terry’s Texas
Rangers.
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