Calvin heard the rebel yell and felt the ambition and passion of youth. It was 1861 and he was 24 years old. Not much excitement for a young man, working on his father’s farm in the rolling hills of Dickson County, Tennessee.
But now, there was a war on.
His mother was called Dicey, and he said goodbye to her on that morning in the latter part of May. The air was cool, but blood was running hot throughout the South. Calvin Alexander waved in departing from his father William and the farm; he grabbed up his rifle and marched off to find Captain Thedford, who had sent word to the men of Dickson County. Thedford was forming a company that would join with the 11th Regiment of Tennessee’s Infantry.
No hesitation on the part of Calvin. The call for men was the first to fill the Army of Tennessee, and his brethren were clotting the roadways making their way to Camp Cheatham, set up weeks earlier on Spring Creek northwest of Nashville. Not far from the Kentucky line. A distance from the farm in Dickson County that Calvin Alexander had never traveled.
It was 1861 and there was a war on.
Not every private who marched from Dickson County found their way back to their farms. There were years in between for some who returned. The boys of Company K marched long days, long months. Years.
Prospects were beginning to look poor by the time the 11th regiment found themselves caught up in the Atlanta Campaign. 1864, and Sherman’s forces had already run through Calvin’s home state and the Army of Tennessee was falling back into Georgia. When Atlanta fell, the Dickson County boys and the remainder of the 11th joined with the Tennessee 29th.
Things got a little crazy after that.
Calvin Alexander later learned that his regiment and company were part of the surrender in April, ’65 – a month after he left them. For him, it was six of one, a half-dozen of another. He could almost hear his mother’s voice calling him home to the farm. The cause might have seemed noble, but the stakes were high. So many boys lost. So many nights spent under the stars. Or in the rain. The mud. The illness and grievous injury.
The dream was over on March 24th. At least it was for Calvin Alexander. The march was on but the glow of glory was off and he fell back and he fell away and eventually he fell into the hands of those blue-coats.
It was a different way of thinking back then, back during the American Civil War. Some troops were taken prisoner, but camps got filled and provisions were expensive. And, back then, a man’s word was his bond.
Calvin gave his word; he would never again take up arms against the United States. He gave his word in the form of the X-mark that represented his signature on a form printed especially for those whose enthusiasm for war had waned to the point of desertion.
And Calvin, of fair complexion, dark hair, and blue eyes; standing 5 feet 11 inches high, who was formerly a private in Co. K, 11th Regiment Tennessee, in the Rebel Army, went back to the farm in Dickson County. And there he married Luranie Thomas and lived another 33 years farming the rolling hillsides of the family farm, and where he is buried still.
So many stories in the books on the shelves, and I’m always amazed at the stories that come into the bookstore tucked in between the pages. Tales like that of Calvin Franklin Austin, related in the form of his Oath of Allegiance on a paper signed and sworn at Nashville, which – next month – will have been 150 years ago.
We have a history section, and lunch while you shop, so…
Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!