J. H. McNeilly was the commissioned Chaplain of the 49^th Tennessee Infantry Regiment.      He is one of many men of this regiment who distinguished themselves on the field of battle and, in the post war South.   When folks think about Military Chaplains, they tend to get a picture in their mind of the characters portrayed on such television series as M.A.S.H.  An impression of a person far behind the lines who rarely sees the front line and never comes under fire.   In the War for Southern Independence, the Chaplain played a vital role, right on the front line administering to the spiritual needs of the men and in some cases, caring for the wounded.

       James was born on Jones Creek in Dickson County, Tennessee in June,1838.  He was  the son of Robert and Margaret McNeilly, hard working Scots who were first generation Tennesseans.

       James entered Jackson College, from which he graduated with the class of 1856. He was afterwards employed for quite awhile as a surveyor in Dickson and surrounding countries, and in 1860 was licensed as a Presbyterian preacher, having graduated form the Seminary at Danville, Kentucky.

      James Hugh McNeilly was a front line Chaplain in all aspects.  He saw some of the fiercest combat that a man could experience; yet amidst all of the hardships and death, he kept his faith.  His writings after the war give some of the clearest, most concise insights into what these battles and their aftermath were like.   From Vicksburg to Nashville, 'Spider Wagin' as he was called by the troops (owing to the fact he carried all the cooking utensils for the regiment and troops called skillets spiders due to the legs on the vessels) followed his boys, ministering to their spiritual needs and nursing their wounds.  

      He was their Minister, their best friend, the subject of pranks and at times, the object of their affection.   Along the way, he gathered the material that in his later years would form the basis for some of the best writings ever submitted to Confederate Veteran.  From humorous to straightforward accounts of the battlefield, his writings paint a picture in your mind that allows you to get an idea of what it was like to ~see the elephant~

     I would like to share with you some of the Rev. McNeilly's literary efforts and, encourage you to take the time to read those old volumes of the Veteran to get the story straight from the men who were there.

EARLY EXPERIENCES OF WAR 

   J. H. McNeilly enlisted at Vicksburg with Company D, 49^th Tennessee, and a company that was formed in his home county of Dickson in Northern Middle Tennessee.    At age 25, he had just finished his studies at the Danville Seminary when the war broke.   He wanted to serve and since his brother was captured when Ft. Donelson fell and, since the Confederate Government ordered Chaplains be assigned to all regiments, he headed south to Mississippi, where he met with the regiment upon its exchange at Vicksburg.  

   He arrived several days in advance of the regiment and his first encounter with a Confederate soldier left him with only the clothes on his back when, while checking into a Vicksburg hotel, his carpet bag was stolen by a roving soldier.  McNeilly later stated that the loss of his clothes did not bother him as much as the loss of his Bible and his sermons, which he had taken many hours to write.  He considered the Rebel soldier to be a profane sort of individual indeed after this encounter but managed to settle in with the regiment at Clinton, Mississippi in September.

    His first days were spent catching up with his brother, who had just been exchanged.   His brother, already a soldier, experienced in the fray and, the way of the vile Yankee, related the following story to James during those first days in camp near Vicksburg.

ON CAMP DOUGLAS

My brother told me of one experience of his.     It was against the rule for the prisoners to talk with citizens, especially to argue.    One day, a citizen who was visiting the prison accosted my brother as he stood inside a lattice screen and asked him some questions.

'Did you all have plenty to eat down South?'

'Yes'

'Did you have comfortable clothes?'

'Yes'

'Well, did you have houses to live in?'

'O, Yes'

'Then what in the world are you fighting for?'

     The reply was:  'There is something more to live for than victuals and clothes.  We are fighting for the same thing our fathers fought for in the Revolution.'

     A sentry had been listening to the talk until this point; but the moment he heard a word to imitate that we were contending for Liberty, he raised his gun and fired, shattering the lattice work above my brothers head.

AT THE  SIEGE OF  PORT  HUDSON

      James first real experience in combat came a t a place called Port Hudson, Louisiana.  The regiment had been sent back and forth all across the state of Mississippi and as far south as Fort Morgan at Mobile Bay.  By March 1863, the 49^th had been moved to Port Hudson.  Just days later, the siege of the river fortress began, giving James his first glimpse of the element of War and, its effect on the soldier.   It was at Port Hudson that he began to jot down his experiences and observations, a couple of which I share with you now.

1      The 30th Louisiana were the Acadians (or Cajuns) and spoke only French.  The language was a wonder to our Tennessee country boys and, they always stopped to listen to what they called the jabbering.  There were several washerwomen with the 30th, and they talked incessantly with characteristic French vivacity.  One of our boys expressed it. After listening for a while to their chatter, he called to a comrade; Run here and listen to these women.  One of them can give one flutter of her tongue and say more than you can say in a week.

2       As we stood in line during the bombardment the frogs in a puddle kept up a constant chattering, when this boy said to me; These frogs have camped by the side of the 30th Louisiana till they have learned to talk French.

3      One of the saddest incidents of the bombardment was a tragedy indeed, begun with some comic features.   There were a good many negroes in camp, Cooks and Teamsters.  They were generally much frightened by the bursting shells and ran in various directions, hunting places of safety.   As one of them rushed by, someone called to him; Tom,  its time for you to be praying!    He accepted this suggestion and flopped down on his knees and began the only prayer he knew'; 'Now I lay me down to sleep'  

        Just then, his eye caught sight of one of the big shells from the mortar boats soaring up into the heavens with its burning fuse until it seemed just over his head; He didn't wait to finish.     With 'O, Lord, I done forget de res' he started again on the run and, in his blind terror he struck his forehead against a projecting pole of a cabin, his neck was broken and he fell dead.   It was remarkable, the change the bombardment made in many of the negroes.   Before, they were a careless, happy-go-lucky set, many of them quite profane.   Afterwards, they indulged largely in camp meeting songs, and one could not twist an oath out of them with a corkscrew.
      From Port Hudson, the 49^th Tennessee moved northward to Vicksburg as part of Joe Johnston's Army of Relief.  When Vicksburg fell, the regiment had only made it as far as the Big Black River, just west of Jackson, Mississippi.  They were then sent into Georgia, arriving just after the Battle of Missionary Ridge had been decided.  They spent a few days at Dalton, Georgia where the Army of Tennessee had went into winter camp, then they went back into Mississippi to attempt to check the advance of Sherman.  When the Army of Tennessee came out of winter camp, the regiment was once again transported to Georgia, this time to take part in the Atlanta Campaign.