PETER JOSEPH OELAND SMITH:  (1857-1898)

From the Journal and Carolina Spartan Newspaper. Fri. March 19, 1926

City Purchasing Agent Recalls experience as Hack Line Driver in War

Modern busses carrying hundreds of passengers I comfort over the highways around Spartanburg, recall to P.J.O. Smith, city purchasing agent, memories of the days when he assisted in operating one of the pioneer "hack line" plying between Jonesville and Glenn Springs. "I was born Oct. 31, 1857, in Union District, S.C., " said Mr. Smith today in reminiscing concerning his experiences on the old hack line, so I was quite a young chap when "the War" began. My earliest recollection of the preparation for the long struggle was the gathering of my mother's and father's brothers at our home to bid farewell to each other. My mother's brother's were John, Rufus, William, Hiram and Jasper White. The last two were only in their teens, while the others were married with large famines. The three eldest brothers had volunteered and wore the gray uniform of the Confederacy.

Families Gather

"My father had volunteered also but owing to a broken shoulder suffered in early life, was disqualified and rejected by the medical board. His brother, Thomas, residing then in Mississippi had already joined General Hood in the western army. Hosea and Benjamin, younger brothers, later enlisted in the Holcomb Legion.

The early part of the day was spent in a squirrel bunt by my uncles and my father. They bagged a quantify of game, which was barbecued. Both my grandfathers and grandmothers were present at this dinner. After dinner was over we played, my cousins and I , games, while the elders discussed the approaching war. Little did any of us realize that this was one of the greatest struggles the world had ever known and that the flower of the South's manhood would be slain and only old men and the boys would be left; that only a scattering of maimed old soldiers would be left to take up the burden of an overwhelmed but not conquered South. Six of my uncles made the supreme sacrifice. John was killed at Fort Harrison; Rufus was wounded at Seven Pines and died shortly after losing his arm by a cannonball; William died in a hospital at Richmond of typhus fever; Hiram was captured at Columbia, S.C. when Sherman raided and burned the city and died from exposure. He was buried in Elmwood, where a number of other Confederate soldiers are buried. Benjamin Smith was lost in the Pennsylvania campaign and was never heard of afterward. Hosea Smith died at Goldsboro, N.C. after General Johnson surrendered to General Sherman. My other uncles were parolee and returned to their respective homes.

My father, J. Frank Smith, who was rejected at the beginning of the war, was called to the front in 1863 and was stationed at Charleston and later transferred to Virginia.

Old Hack Line

At the beginning of the war my father was running a hack line from Glenn Springs to Jonesville on the old Spartanburg and Union road. After he went into the service of the Confederate Army my mother continued the hack line with the help of some boys. I being one of them. The service consisted of carrying the mail, hauling passengers and refugees from the lower part of the state and dead soldiers sent home for burial. Our outfit consisted of two hacks, one carriage, and a baggage wagon. I was the driver of the wagon. Although only six years old I did the work of a Grown man except the loading and unloading of the heavy baggage. In this I was assisted by old men and sometimes women would help with the coffins containing the bodies of soldiers.

I recall one incident that persists in sticking in my memory. Once the train was late. The hacks and carriage were loaded with the passengers and then the baggage wagon was loaded with two long boxes in which were dead soldiers being sent home for burial. The night was very dark, the road was long and rough and my team old and slow. The other teams soon left me far behind and in my childish mind I began to conjure up all kinds of weird visions. The hooting of owls and the croaking of frogs did not add much peace to my already excited imagination. I had closed my eyes to shut out dreadful things. I seemed to see lurking beside the road, dodging from tree to tree, or hiding behind the bushes.

One Horrible Night

Suddenly I felt the presence of something on my wagon. I opened my eyes and looking backward. I saw the dark outline of a man sitting on one of the boxes. Great Caesar! Was this a dead soldier or his ghost? My first impulse was to leave the wagon and let the ghost or whatever it might be to take the team while I took to my heels. While I was in the act of doing this the thing spoke aloud and said, "Buddie, don't be afraid, it's only Uncle Ned. I is might tired and wants to ride with you to Thompson's quarters."

What a relief it was to find that it was old Uncle Ned, a slave of the Thompson Quarters, who had climbed upon the wagon while I had my eyes closed. While driving along I asked Uncle Ned where he had been and he replied by saying "Hush, child! Don't talk so loud, Patrollers about tonight."

Sure enough, we had gone only a short distance when a command to halt was given by someone in front of the wagon. The voice then asked who was on the wagon, I replied that only and old Negro, and two dead soldiers and I were aboard. The patrollers then came up and said, "You have the coffins, where is the Negro?" Sure enough Old Ned had sloped off the wagon and made his getaway without any noise to indicate which way he went.

Sometime afterward in passing Thompson's Quarters I saw old Ned beside the road and asked hem if the patrollers caught him the night he rode with me.

"No, Child," he said, "But they caught me last night and now I have to stand up to eat my breakfast."

Rice Grown Locally

When the bombardment of Charleston by the Yankee gunboats began, large number of Charleston Families took refuge in the upper section of the state and many of them came to Glenn Springs. Among them I remember the names Whaley, Banister, Motts, Lagare, Simmons. Some of these families brought along their slaves and hired them out to old farmers whose sons were in the army. These slaves knew nothing about farming except raising rice. This they did very well by damming up small streams and flooding small strips of bottom lands. As rice was the principal food of the Charleston Negro, it was a happy time with them when the harvest began and rice was quite a luxury of the up-country people who could afford it.

When the news of President Lincoln's assassination came I remember that and old widow who owned a large number of slaves came to my mother and said, "Oh, Mrs. Smith, I am so happy. They have killed old Abe Lincoln and now I won't lose my slaves."

Johnson's Army Passes

Well do I remember the passing of General Johnson's Army. It went through Glenn Springs to North Carolina where the battle of Bentonville was fought just before Johnson surrendered to Sherman and after Lee had surrendered his broken down forces to Grand tat Appomattox Courthouse.

The day general Johnson army passed through Glenn Springs Mrs. R.A. Cates, a noble woman of the south and member of an influential family, kept several cooks busy baking bread. Her youngest son, Leslie, and I were kept busy filling canteens with molasses and carrying bread to the passing hungry soldiers. many of the soldiers were mere boys in their teens. I remember one who grounded his musket, and the musket reached above his head.

Columbia Bombarded

One morning in February 1865, we could hear the booming of cannon. This was Sherman's artillery bombarding the state house in Columbia. They had planted their guns on the high hills in Lexington County, across the Congaree River. The result of that bombardment is still visible on the west side of the capitol building.

At the beginning of hostilities, I remember, meetings were held all over the state for troops to defend the Southern states. One of these meetings was held at Philadelphia Church near Glenn Springs. At this meeting many patriotic speeches were made by leading men of that section.

Among these were General B.B. Foster, a very prominent and influential man. In his speech he assured the people that the war would end without the shedding of blood. A company of young men was soon formed. The Smiths, Whites, Wests, Lancasters, Meadows, Miller, Morrows, Jennings, Fosters and other whose names I do not recall were represented in this company. Among them were two sons of General Foster, and both were killed in battle.

After almost two years of service General Foster came home on a furlough and the following Sunday he attended services at Philadelphia Church. Mothers of the community's young men who had gone to the front met General Foster in the churchyard. With one voice they asked, "General, where is my boy?"

General Foster, too full to speak for a moment, could only reply, with tears streaming down his cheeks,"They, like my own boys, are sleeping the seep of the dead on the battlefields of Virginia."

Country Terrorized

Then came Wheeler's Raider's, terrorizing wherever they went, taking without pay anything they wanted. One band of these raiders camped at Glenn Springs for a short time. They took, without pay or concent, from our scanty supplies corn, meat, flour, anything that please their fancy. Even the hen roost was not spared. After they left we took up from the ground corn, meat, wheat dough and other eatables sufficient for our needs for several days.

Next came Yankee Raiders who were worse than Wheeler's men. What they could not carry away they burned or otherwise destroyed. Our people were so alarmed they tried to save their valuables by hiding them. My mother hid a small trunk containing her few valuables consisting of a white dress, some ribbons, her Sunday shoes, and old silver watch my father had left at home when he went into service and my own baby clothes. I still have one of these garments. The trunk was hidden in an old house by lifting up the hearthstone. By excavating a hole large enough for the trunk and replacing the stone on top, we made a fin hiding place. Alas, a heavy rain fell that night and after the scare was over we took up the trunk only to find that nearly everything was ruined.

This Story Provide by:
Larry Smith