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Our correspondence.

Teras troops en route — powder Mill — visit to a veteran's Vineyard, and his account of a battle in the Old Times.



Knoxville, Tenn., Sept. 10, 1861.
Five companies of Texas troops arrived here last week on their way to Virginia.--They were detained several days awaiting transportation. They deserve honorable mention for a march by land which they made through Louisiana of a peculiarly trying character. The distance was about 140 miles, four-fifths of which they passed through water and mud from an ankle to waist deep! At one point they waded for nearly a mile in water up to the waist. Frequently a soldier would step into a hole and go entirely under. One of them told me he had done so a dozen times. They were eleven days on the march, and it rained on them every day. I heard one of them say, ‘"We marched along shouting, and as happy as if we had been at a camp meeting."’ Gallant, noble fellows! When I reflect on the deeds of our Southern soldiery, I am filled with admiration of the sublime, patriotic heroism which they have displayed.

On last Saturday some of the Texans amused themselves by cutting down Union poles, several of which were still standing in the city. They made a clean sweep of these symbols of the ‘ "old concern."’

I learn that in one of the counties of East Tennessee, an old powder mill, which manufactured a part of the ammunition used by Jackson at the battle of New Orleans, has been again put in operation. It is worked by the grandsons of the owner at that period.--The quantity made is small.

Yesterday I made a visit to one of Jackson's old soldiers. A few of these still survive, and it is always to me a source of high gratification to meet and converse with them. I know three who were in the battle of the Horse Shoe, the old gentleman referred to being one of them.

This gentleman (Capt. James Campbell,) resides ten miles from this place, at a fine farm on French Broad River. He is noted as the pioneer throughout this region in the culture of the grape. He began the work without experience, six or eight years ago. His first cuttings were planted in holes about 10 or 12 feet apart, and the apparent waste of ground involved in this plan would astonish a Frenchman or German. He has about three and a half acres in vines, which bear well.--He will make this year a quantity of wine, as he has done for several years past. He cultivates the Catawba variety. East Tennessee is found by experiments made to be well adapted to the growth and culture of the grape.

Capt. C. gave me an interesting account of the battle of the Horse Shoe, which was fought on the 27th of March, 1814. The Indians (Creeks) lay in the bend of the Tallapoosa river, behind a strong and admirably constructed breastwork of logs. In it were three rows of port-holes for riflemen, the lowest being intended for those sitting or lying down, the second for those kneeling, the third for those standing. Its length was about a quarter of a mile. Early in the morning Gen. Coffee, with his brigade of horsemen, crossed the river three miles below, marched up, and got in the rear of the Indians, with the river intervening. He was accompanied by Col. Gideon Morgan, with a battalion of Cherokees, and Col. McIntosh, with some friendly Creeks.

The attack was begun by Jackson in front, with a cannonade on the breastwork, about 9 o'clock A. M. No breach, however, could be made. A general charge was ordered and executed with success, about 11 o'clock. The Indians fought with savage ferocity, but were overpowered, slain, and driven back.--Those who were not killed fled to the river in the rear, with a view to cross it and make their escape; but having left their canoes unguarded, Gen. Coffee had sent over, seized, and conveyed them all to the other side.--When they reached the river, therefore, and found this resource cut off, they kept up the fight across the stream with the forces opposite. This lasted for a considerable time, and several of our men were killed and wounded. Col. Morgan received a ball in the forehead, and his Cherokees said he danced like a partridge when shot. He was the father of Maj. Morgan, of the Third Tennessee Regiment, near Arlington Heights, who recently had the honor of escorting Prince Napoleon to Gen. Beauregard's headquarters.

Capt. Campbell, then a very young man, and a private in a company under General Coffee, said he had retired for a few minutes to cool his heated rifle in a small stream. Returning, he observed a Captain rubbing his eyes. A ball from the rifle of an Indian had struck a tree, behind which he was standing while loading his gun, and knocked the bark into his eyes. He said, ‘"Captain, what's the matter! Are you crying?"’ ‘"No, "’ he replied. ‘"I want you to kill an Indian for me."’ The request was complied with, a ball from the young soldier's rifle having silenced him.

The Indian's had felled trees into the river. In the effort to escape they would crawl out on these, when Coffee's men would pick them off, and they would drop like turtles into the water. One fellow darted from the shore to swim across, a distance of about fifty yards. He only rose once to draw breath, when fifty or sixty shots were fired at him. Only one took effect — in the shoulder? He made another plunge and gained the shore, when he was immediately captured by a Cherokee and brought to Gen. Coffee. He tried to get information from him as to whether other Indians were stationed in the rear of Coffee's command. A tomahawk was raised in a threatening manner to make him communicate, when the fellow, instead of shrinking or cowering, defiantly threw his head forward to receive the stroke! The Indians made a desperate fight, and were nearly all cut to pieces. They preferred death to a surrender.

About 45 whites were killed, and upwards of a hundred wounded, including Sam. Houston. The bodies of the dead were sunk in the river, and the wounded were borne on biers or litters, made by stretching fresh ox hides over two long parallel poles, the ends of which were fastened to a horse in front and behind, the wounded man being between the two animals. How different from the splendid ambulances captured at the battle of Manassas.

This battle broke the Creek power, but the war did not immediately end. In a subsequent expedition, lower down on the Tallapoosa river, Jackson's forces advanced on an Indian town supposed to be full of warriors, but found it evacuated. It contained a large council house, fifty feet in diameter, with a low arched entrance capable of admitting only one person at a time. High up on the central pole inside were numerous arrows sticking straight out, on which hung the scalps of the men, women and children massacred at Fort Wimms. These were taken down and decently buried. In the neighborhood they found and rescued from captivity a white woman and three children; whose husband had been one of the victims of the massacre.

Capt. Campbell said: ‘"It was impossible for Gen. Jackson to be taken by surprise. On a march, when the troops encamped even for a single night, he invariably threw up a breastwork of logs. Nor could his troops be defeated, because they had perfect confidence in him as a General. Nearly everything in war depends on this. Our troops near Washington have confidence in Beauregard, and they cannot be whipped."’ So mote it be.

L.

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