Our army approached Fort Pillow about the 12th of April and drove in the outpost guards, and, after a sharp fight with the outside defenders, we forced the enemy behind the fortifications. The Union Army had a transport boat and one or more gunboats in the river, and could fear no attack from that side of the fort. Our commander, knowing the danger of a direct assault and the heavy loss of life that would be sure to follow, sent in a flag of truce demanding capitulation, making it plain that he had come to capture the fort and assuring the defenders that the terms to be granted would be honorable. He warned them, however, that if his men had to scale the walls of the fort he could not guarantee full protection to the negro soldiers in view of the Southern white man’s strong prejudice against the colored man as a soldier at that period of the war. There have been many wild stories concocted about this fight; but aside from the outcropping of natural race prejudice, which is dangerous enough under normal, peaceful conditions of life and which had been blown to its fiercest flame by the breath of war, there was nothing brutal or savage. Just before our flag of truce went forward, one of our regiments slipped into a ravine just above the fort, where they were safe from the enemy’s fire and from which position they could enfilade the fort and boat landing. Soon after the fight the report was current that this regiment had been moved into position while the flag of truce was being respected. Another story that gained circulation, and that has believers to this day, was to the effect that our command murdered all the occupants of the fort; and that fight in which our army took all the hazards of a difficult and dangerous attack was widely called the “massacre of Fort Pillow.” After the war, a committee composed of Northern men investigated these charges against General Forrest and his command, and, upon all information gathered, the accused were, by the decision of the committee, cleared of the charge. In every army there are bad men, and of such we may expect fiendish conduct when the business of the best of men is to kill. When we fought it out at Fort Pillow and were forced to scale the walls and found the negro troops defending the place with death-dealing weapons in their hands, I am sure that, in the flame of prejudice and passion, there were some unnecessary killings; but they were the exceptions and formed no part of any plan of the Confederate commander. Neither did they reflect the will and spirit of the mass of his soldiers. A great many of the panic-stricken negroes ran toward the river, and some were drowned by jumping into the water in an effort to reach the transport, which in alarm was pulling away from the shore. In the stampede there were many who paid no attention when they were called upon to halt, and this gave our men the right under the rules of war to shoot. CHAPTER XVIII A PERSONAL SORROW