Identifying the mysterious "Prof"

Typical brass band member during the Civil War

       I've recently been working hard writing a script for a Civil War documentary for the Colbert County Tourism Association. I've borrowed notes from several local historians to assist me in my work. Although I'm a Civil War historian, I've never really focused on the small local skirmishes, etc. On prowling through Lanny Perry's notes I found an email exchange between he and Sheffield City Historian Richard Sheridan. They are discussing a man killed in Tuscumbia in the fall of 1864. The man was a band leader for Cantey's brigade. He was a member of Hood's army preparing for the fateful invasion of Tennessee. The only thing known about the man was his nickname "Prof." He was killed by a falling tree on 11 November 1864 and his funeral was so large it was led by two brass bands. 

       My wife says when I want to learn something I'm like a bulldog. That is exactly what happened when I found this email. The downfall of being this way is I'm often on a wild goose chase when I could be better using my time writing. I've written blogs before about finding something long forgotten, but for every one I've solved there are probably ten more I couldn't. I set off on this goose chase that night and surprisingly, without too much frustration (I did get a bit aggravated a couple of times) I found the mysterious "Prof." 

       Prof was Asa Ross of Butler County, Alabama. He enlisted in Mobile, Alabama on 9 March 1863 as the band leader of the 17th Alabama Infantry. He was born in North Carolina, but had moved to Butler Springs, Butler County, Alabama. When the war began, Asa was 34 years old with a 24 year old wife, a two year old daughter and a ten month old daughter. A school teacher by trade, he was nicknamed "Prof" (short for Professor) when he joined the army. He had to have been a well liked man to have been mentioned having such a large funeral. 

Could "Prof" be buried in one of these graves today

       My publisher Angela Broyles loved this story so much, she insisted I write a blog about the mysterious "Prof." I sent the information to Lanny and Richard Sheridan and Richard now wants me to attempt to find if Asa is still buried here or possibly removed to Butler County following the war. I'm not sure I will ever be able to answer that question, but I intend to attempt it. He may still be buried in an unknown grave in Tuscumbia's Oakwood Cemetery.  

       

S.A.M. Wood: Alabama General

Sterling Alexander Martin Wood

       S.A.M. Wood as he came to be called was born in Florence, Alabama on 17 March, 1823. There is a street in Florence today that is called Wood Avenue which is actually named for Wood's brother, a prominent Florence lawyer. S.A.M. Wood would soon return to Florence and become his brother's law partner. In 1857, Wood was elected to the Alabama state legislature and later become editor of the Florence Gazette. 

       When the war began, Wood organized Company K, 7th Alabama Infantry which was known as the Florence Guards. He would only remain a captain for a very short time. The unit was sent to Pensacola, Florida and Wood was there elected Colonel of the regiment. 

Flag of Company K, 7th Alabama Infantry

       On 7 January, 1862, Wood was promoted to brigadier general by Jefferson Davis. Braxton Bragg, Wood's commanding officer fired off an angry letter to Richmond about Wood being promoted ahead of James Patton Anderson, one of Bragg's favorite officers. 

       Just before the Battle of Shiloh, Wood's brigade (which consisted of the 16th Alabama, 8th and 9th Arkansas, 27th, 47th, and 55th Tennessee, and the 3rd Mississippi Battalion, all infantry regiments, including an artillery battery) was placed into Hindman's Division, William Hardee's Corps. This brigade was credited with the opening shots of the Battle of Shiloh. Wood was wounded when he fell from his horse there and momentarily gave up command of his brigade, but soon returned to lead them through the rest of the battle. 

       General Hindman had nothing good to say about Wood's leadership. There was a formal inquiry to Wood's actions as brigade commander, but no wrong doing could be found. He then led his brigade in action at the Battle of Perryville, Kentucky and while his brigade helped to capture an artillery battery there, Wood was wounded by a artillery shrapnel. 

S.A.M. Wood (seated in dark uniform) with members of his staff

       Following the Kentucky Campaign, Wood's brigade was placed into the elite division of Patrick Cleburne. Cleburne commended Wood for his performance at the Battle of Murfreesboro. It seemed Wood's star was on the rise. 

       On the second day of the Battle of Chickamauga, General Wood lost control of his brigade which became separated and only one regiment got in the action. Wood then got the rest of his brigade into a field where they attacked alone and were repulsed with heavy losses. Cleburne was furious with Wood and ordered him to take the remainder of his brigade to the rear. 

       Cleburne failed to mention Wood in his report following the battle, which was considered an insult or a sign of failure in that time period. S.A.M. Wood saw the writing on the wall and resigned his commission on 17 October 1863. It would be the last time he would see action during the war. He moved his family to Tuscaloosa and continued his law practice. He later reentered politics and became a member of the faculty at the University of Alabama. He died there on 26 January 1891.

Timmy and I at the grave of S.A.M. Wood in Evergreen Cemetery less than a hundred yards from Bryant Denny Stadium

A Live Major General or a Dead Brigadier: Abner Monroe Perrin

Brigadier General Abner Monroe Perrin

       Part of the problem of living with a sleep disorder is finding yourself wide awake at five in the morning and wishing you were asleep. Of course falling asleep about four yesterday afternoon and waking up at midnight has something to do with it. I thought I would use this time writing about one of my favorite Confederate generals. 

       Abner Perrin was born in 1827 in South Carolina. He fought in the Mexican War at the age of 19 and earned promotion to lieutenant while there. Following that war, he returned to South Carolina where he became an attorney. When the Civil War began, Perrin was elected captain in the 14th South Carolina Infantry.

       They would see their first action in the Seven Days battles around Richmond in the summer of 1862. Perrin and his men were heavily engaged at both Gaines' Mill and Frayser's Farm during the now famous Seven Days Campaign. 

       They fought at Cedar Mountain, Second Manassas, Sharpsburg (Antietam), and Fredericksburg. Perrin was slightly wounded at Fredericksburg where his brigade commander Maxcy Gregg was killed. Perrin received a promotion to colonel in January of 1863. At Chancellorsville when all the senior officers were killed or wounded, Perrin was placed in charge of the brigade. He would travel to Gettysburg in command of the brigade, but still only ranked colonel. He lost almost half his brigade in the attack on the first day there, but he led the brigade forward and broke the Federal line in his front. 

       Perrin was promoted to brigadier general in September of 1863. When his former commander Samuel McGowan returned to duty in February of 1864 after his long recuperation from Chancellorsville, Perrin took command of Wilcox's Alabama Brigade. He led his new brigade at the Wilderness, again proving himself to be a great leader. 

The "Mule Shoe" at Spotsylvania

       At Spotsylvania on May 12, 1864, Perrin was ordered to lead his brigade of Alabamians into the breach when the Federals overran the "Mule Shoe." He said, "I shall come out of this fight a live major general or a dead brigadier." He led his men into the breach and helped close the gap, stopping the Federal advance. Perrin didn't live to see his men triumph. He fell from his horse struck by several bullets. His body would be carried back to Fredericksburg, Virginia and buried in the City Cemetery. Although he didn't receive his desired promotion to major general, he was deserving of such rank. He'd proven himself on many battlefields and the wonder is that such a brave man lived as long as he did. 

Grave of Abner Monroe Perrin

Never Smile Again

My latest book cover

       My third book was released last month and I'm just getting around to blogging about it. I've been so busy writing a script for a documentary on Colbert County during the Civil War, I haven't had time to promote my own book. To be honest, I've been quite stressed out about the documentary because I've been given just two weeks to get it written. On the opposite side, it has been fun working on something different. 

       Never Smile Again is based on the Shiloh Campaign and I do my best to keep things historically correct although it's written in novel form. I still believe Die Like Men is a much better book, but my wife doesn't agree. She actually cried when she read the part where General Albert Sidney Johnston died. I guess I liked Die Like Men better because it is my favorite campaign of the war. It demonstrated to what extent men are willing to go when called on to do their duty. 

       The one thing I wasn't real happy about was the cover. I didn't want my picture plastered across the front for fear of people thinking I have a huge ego. Unfortunately, I didn't have any say in that part. My publisher Angela Broyles and my wife Stacie were determined for this picture of me standing on the back porch of the Carter House in Franklin, Tennessee would be on the cover. I've learned in life, there is no use in arguing with women.

       The following is an excerpt from Never Smile Again.

       All the men were watching their commander’s temper rise with each passing moment. Suddenly, Forrest spun and shouted, “Boys, do you hear that musketry and artillery?”

                His men knew what was about to happen. Their commander had had enough. Everyone yelled in reply.

                Forrest shouted, “It means our friends are falling by the hundreds while we’re back here guarding a damned creek! I didn‘t ride all the way up here to guard no damned ford! We didn’t enter the service for such work! May as well be guarding a damned latrine! We are needed on the field! I say we go and help our men! What do you say?”

                Every man in the command replied with a shout. Forrest climbed on his horse and watched as his men began to mount. He yelled, “We’re goin’ up there, and we gonna bust hell wide open!”

                They rode north and soon turned on the Hamburg-Purdy Road. There were long-range artillery shells bursting overhead. Forrest rode on, impervious to the shrapnel raining down around him. Just up the road he found General Frank Cheatham.

                Forrest approached Cheatham, and not bothering to salute, he said, “I can’t have my men back here in this artillery fire. I need to charge.”

                Cheatham looked at Forrest with an expression of indifference. He wondered why Forrest was telling him this.

                Forrest asked, “Will you give me permission to charge?”

                Cheatham shook his head. “I don’t have the authority to give you permission to charge. You’re not under my command. Besides, several charges have been bloodily repulsed from going across that field already.”

                Cheatham noticed Forrest’s face growing redder by the minute. His blue eyes flashed. Cheatham quickly added, “I can’t order you to charge, but you can charge under your own orders. The responsibility will rest on you.”

                “Then I’ll charge under my own orders,” Forrest grumbled. He spun in the saddle and shouted to his men. “Form ranks in column of fours. We will advance in that formation.”

       Never Smile Again can be purchased from Amazon, Bluewater Publications, and should be available in Books-a-million any day now. 

Civil Wargasm #3

Me and James "Beasley" Howard at the grave of General Pillow

       About two months ago, Jerry and I decided to go on another Civil Wargasm. We thought it would be fun to ask two of our buddies along, James Howard and Lanny Perry. Unfortunately, Lanny's wife wouldn't let him miss any work, but James was game. We planned to head to Memphis and hit Elmwood Cemetery and then travel to the grave of Jerry's hero, Nathan Bedford Forrest.

       The trip got off to a slow start when James (who happens to be 49 years old) couldn't seem to get away from his mom. They stood on the front porch (I didn't want to be nosy so I never looked to see if they were hugging or not) for several minutes. I was beginning to wonder about James. Perhaps his mother had been told some bad things about Jerry and myself. I immediately decided that it had to be Jerry who she thought was the bad influence and my mind was put to ease. 

General Vaughan's Desk

       The three of us left for Memphis and discussed my favorite subject the entire way, the war of course. We soon arrived in Elmwood and entered the office to find a map. Inside the office was the desk (the actual word is secretariat) that belonged to Confederate Brigadier General Alfred Jefferson Vaughan who is also buried in Elmwood.

       We purchased a map showing the burial places of all prominent people buried in Elmwood. There are eleven Confederate general's buried there not to mention some militia general's and two Federal general's. We left the office and struck out for the nearest grave. We found the grave of Major General James Patton Anderson first. Not wanting anything to be unusual about this trip, I managed to attract a wierdo. The fellow gave us a brief lesson on General Anderson and mentioned the general was buried in the poor section of the cemetery. He told us he just couldn't grasp why a major general would be buried among the poor. I explained to him the general was in financial trouble after the war as most Southerner's were. The man looked at me with a confused look on his face and said, "I just can't imagine why he is buried over here." Oh, well, I tried. 

       

Me with Brigadier General Preston Smith

       We found all the generals, although we were followed and greatly distracted by my wierdo. We were regaled with tales from one end of the planet to the other and time began to become a factor. I got a picture of myself at the grave of one of my hero's, General Preston Smith who was killed at Chickamauga after riding forward in the darkness to locate the Federal main line. Among the other generals we found in Elmwood were Elkanah Greer, Alfred Jefferson Vaughan, Gideon Pillow, William Humes, Lucius Marshall Walker, James Chalmers, William H. Carroll, George W. Gordon, Robert V. Richardson, and William M. Gardner. 

       Before leaving the cemetery, Jerry found a dog monument with an actual flea collar around its neck. Obviously, Jerry thought this was a waste and James and I had to talk him out of taking the collar home to use on his Dachshund named Pumpkin. James did learn that when you don't have a door covering your memory card on your camera and you swing it around like a mad man, your apt to lose the card. (By the way, if anyone comes across a memory card in the Forrest family section of Elmwood, please contact James Beasley). 

Jerry thought this fluorescent collar would make Pumpkin look good

       The best part of the trip was saved for last. We headed down town to Forrest Park where the "Wizard of the Saddle" himself is buried. The fearless commander who struck fear in the hearts of all Federal troops including Grant himself, happens to be Jerry's hero of hero's. I thought we would arrive to see Jerry well up in tears, rushing from the car to the giant monument, but Jerry never fails to surprise me. 

Two rednecks trying to operate a parking meter

       Instead, he and James spent the next fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to operate the parking meter. I decided to press on to the monument alone while they beat, banged and twisted the meter mercilessly. They finally arrived at the huge monument (I'm still not certain who won, but I'm putting my money on the meter). As we walked around the monument in awe of the great man, I continued to check Jerry's eyes for moisture. Jerry was not to be outdone. He understood that if he shed one single tear I would never let him forget it. I walked over to Jerry and asked, "What do you think?" He replied simply, "That stud horse is anatomically correct. Just look at that thing." What could I say? Just another typical Civil Wargasm with Jerry.

Jerry and me in front of Forrest's grave

Guest Blog by Tim's Wife on the 150th Re enactment of the Battle of Shiloh

Tim, me and Carlee taking a break

On Thursday afternoon of the re-enactment the confederate army marched out of camp to do a little fighting and try to experience a little of what the soldiers did way back when, including sleeping on the ground all night.  It was extremely hot this afternoon and I thought I was going to be seriously ill for a few minutes but I forgot all about it when we started firing on the Yankees.  There is nothing like holding an original 1855 Harpers Ferry in your hands and actually getting to shoot it.  (Still can't believe Tim lets me use this!) We did this off and on for a couple of hours with a few breaks in between.  Then our fearless leaders lead us to the campsite for the night.  In my mind I had imagined  we would be lying in a field under the beautiful dark night with the stars scattered above us.  Wrong!  I was jerked from my fantasy when we were told to go up into the tree line of the woods behind us and pick a spot.  The woods?  You have got to be kidding!  Ticks, spiders and chiggers! Oh my!  Luckily Tim's best friend Jerry was with us and we stayed together and whatever scent Jerry had on attracted all the ticks from our vicinity. 

Jerry waiting to go fight

Darkness began to fall and we were all lazing on our blanket rolls talking when all of a sudden Tim Kent and Jerry Smith started doing what they do best.  Storytelling.  They told stories about aunts turning into mules, small killer spiders, boiling cats, and who knows what else.  All I know is after a few hours of this I was begging them to stop because my sides were hurting so bad.  Not to mention our fellow soldiers scattered around us.  Needless to say they kept us entertained.

After things had calmed down a bit we started hearing rumors about a night fight.  Sure enough here comes the word to get up and go.  So we jumped up, put on our gear and marched as silently as we could through the night.  Unfortunately we didn't get very close but did get to shoot a few times.

The one good thing about it was I was finally worn out enough to actually get a little sleep.  Waking only when some part of my body that was on the ground either went to sleep or started hurting really bad.  

Tim and Captain Hunter waiting on the word to go in

I know it's not even close to what the soldiers went through 150 years ago but I can say those poor guys had it rough.  I definitely have a renewed respect for these brave men.

Solving another long lost mystery

 

Confederate graves from one of the hospitals in Forsyth, Georgia

       Since I've been travelling from place to place signing books and doing talks on the War Between the States, I've met a lot of interesting people. In Troy, Alabama on Tuesday, I met Jonathan Richard who presented me with a question I couldn't answer. He said his ancestor was  William Richard, a private in Company H, 46th Alabama Infantry. The man had died in a Confederate hospital in Gilmer, Georgia on 1 August 1864. He wondered how his ancestor could have died so far behind Sherman's lines at this stage of the war. 

       I love a good mystery and immediately went to work to solve this riddle. Gilmer County, Georgia is in the north-central part of the state. By the time William died, Sherman was on the verge of taking Atlanta. I found William's records and discovered that he died at Gilmer Hospital. That's all the records state. I began to think about other Confederate Hospitals and discovered that although they were typically named Confederate Hospital #1, etc, they also had another name. These names ranged from the location to being named after an actual person. There was a Hardee Hospital in Georgia at the time. I remembered that there was a Confederate major general named Jeremy Francis Gilmer, so I set out to find if there was a Confederate hospital named after him. That is where I got my break in the case. 

       There was actually a Confederate hospital in Marietta, Georgia named Gilmer Hospital until the middle of June, 1864. Sherman's Army began to threaten Marietta at this time and Gilmer Hospital was moved to Forsyth, Georgia along with two other hospitals. That was my break in the case. I notified Jonathan that his ancestor didn't die in Gilmer County, Georgia, but in Gilmer Hospital, Forsyth, Georgia which is south of Atlanta. Things began to make more sense. William Richards doesn't have a cause of death or the reason he was hospitalized in his records, but I would be willing to bet quite a sum of money that he was mortally wounded in one of the battles around Atlanta in June of 1864.

       Here is the reply I received upon delivering the news to Jonathan. 

       Wow! My family is excited about this new revelation that you've opened up for us! I had always just assumed it was named for the county! This makes more sense as it's apparently closer to Atlanta and further into the Confederacy.  We appreciate this help so much!! Thank you!!!!

God bless!
Jonathan P. Richard

       It's nearly impossible for me to say how much those few lines make one feel when he is able to solve a 150 mystery for a family that has been wondering what went on during those final days of their loved ones life so long ago. It is very possible that Jonathan's ancestor is buried in one of these small cemetery spots in Forsyth, Georgia in an unknown grave. If he is lucky, which I've never been, he may travel to Forsyth and it just might be marked.