Some Texas Rangers (Part 3)

Tom Burney
Groesbeck Journal
Thursday, January 13, 1910.

The next day we had the good fortune to get some of Ferguson's men to take our prisoners off our hands and we felt relieved.

The next evening we came up on Ferguson's brigade of Alabama cavalry in line of battle across the road, and when we went to pass he demanded to know who we were. We told him, but it did not satisfy him. We showed him our passes from Gen. Wheeler, but he was in doubt still, so we all went down in our pockets and pulled out general passes from the commander-in-chief, Gen. Hood, and he said they were good.

We could see a yard full of Yankees about a half-mile from us and started to go on, and he asked what we proposed to do, and we told him that we would take that house if he would loan us 50 good men to start with and help to give the rebel yell, and he called for 50 volunteers to start with us, and we started, but most of those fellows dropped out before we got within 300 yards of the house. A few of them went all the way. When we had got possession, all those fellows came charging as if they had done the work. We got all the wine we wanted and left. Gen. Ferguson's men finished up the wine in a few minutes. This wine had been shipped from Savannah out in the county for safe keeping, and there was a cellar full that morning, but it was empty now. We went about a mile further and found several drunk Yankees burning a barn and gin, and were sticking a torch to the dwelling. We shot the fellow before he got it to burning. There was one happy old widow.

We were going back and camp with Gen. Ferguson, but his pickets would not let us in so we had to sleep outside his line.

After we had taken the house and wine Ferguson made his headquarters in that house, but we fared first rate. That old widow put every negro on the place to cooking as soon as she found out we were going to camp to close to her, and sent it to us by here boys near midnight, and we had enough boiled ham to do us two or three days--good home-made ham, such as you never see now-a-days. We saved the old lady a lot of property that evening. The Yanks were drunk and there is no telling the mischief they would have done if they had been left alone.

We were now in a rice growing country. It looked a good deal like wheat to me.

We made a good thing of it yesterday and today we are getting pretty close to Savannah and we are capturing more men as we get them concentrated. So many more of them get out to what we called "pie-rotting," which is only straggling around, either stealing or buying a chicken or something else to eat, or a canteen full of buttermilk. "Can we get any more at that house? If we can, that is the place." That is the way they talked among themselves.

When we got very near Savannah we went off to the left and crossed the Savannah river at Sisters Ferry and rode out to a large plantation about 5 or 6 miles out, and the people were still up, although it was getting late. Martin was the name of the man who owned the place. He was very rich, as riches went in those days. He owned quite a lot of Negroes, perhaps 200, from the number of cabins that could be seen. We ordered supper and got it a little after midnight. Some Negroes brought it down to us in trays at least four feet long and two feet wide, but that was all right, if it had only been clean, but a dog would not have eaten it if he had not been very hungry. Some of the boys sprinkled it pretty heavily with sand and sent it back, and the old farmer got mad and cut a good many capers, but we didn't say anything to him. He had two girls and there were several officers down there to see them, and they told us that they would report us as soon as they could get to some place where they could. They kept getting worse until we threatened to do a little shooting if they didn't stop it; told them if they had been where they ought to have been they would not have seen so much to report. We went to work and killed about a dozen chickens and made the Negroes pick them, and we broiled them on sticks and made out until breakfast. One of the boys went up to the house to wash his face and hands. There was a negro standing on the back gallery and he told him to bring a towel and the Negro laughed at him so this Texas man pulled his six-shooter and fired into him. The bullet hit him just a little too high to kill; just parted his hair, and the old man came running out wanting to know was the matter, and found one of his house servants wounded, and before you could say "Jack Robinson" there was another negro out with at least two dozen towels, on apiece and some to spare.

Now I am going to ring off for a while and rest. May write another time before long, if I am able.

Provided by , Tom Burney's great great grandson.

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