REV. THOMAS WILLIAM POWELL, SR. 1839-1887
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Rev. Thomas Wm Powell was born March 23, 1839 in Heard County, Georgia. His obituary in The Christian Index states a birth year of 1838.
The family line of Rev. Powell has been firmly established via DNA testing of Rev. Powell's autosomal and Y-DNA cousins. The Powell family originated in Brunswick Co., VA, migrating to Chatham Co., NC, and into Clarke, Fayette and Heard Co.s, Georgia, the latter county being Rev. Powell's place of birth.
At the beginning of the Civil War, Rev. Powell enlisted in Co. I, 63rd Georgia Infantry in Dec 1862 in Bartow Co., GA. This unit was initially stationed at Thunderbolt Battery near Savannah, GA. While stationed at Thunderbolt, Rev. Powell was instrumental in starting the Young Men's Christian Society. He faithfully served with the Regiment throughout the conflict, ministering to the men as Chaplain when needed, and participating in the battles at Fort Wagner, made famous by the movie "Glory", Resaca, Kennesaw, where the 63rd Georgia was cited for gallantry, Atlanta, Spring Hill, Franklin, Nashville, the delaying action at Anthony's Hill under Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest over Christmas 1864, the skirmishes in South Carolina and the final battle at Bentonville, NC under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston in the fateful Spring of 1865.
Thomas Powell received a pardon at the Surrender, Greensboro, NC, 1 May 1865, along with the tattered remnant of the Army of Tennessee, defeated in battle by a foe ten times stronger but unbroken in spirit, with the full knowledge that he served with honor and distinction. The 1891 veteran records of Bartow Co., GA, the parent county of Co. I, 63rd GA corroborates Thomas Powell's service.
T.W. Powell likely chose this Regiment because of it's coastal location and, perhaps, because the company commander of I Co., CPT C.W. Howard, was a minister. As well, and perhaps most importantly, the 63rd enjoyed the protection of Gov. Joseph Brown, who, chaffing at the demand for more Georgia Regiments to be sent to defend Virginia, promised to keep the 63rd on Georgia's native soil.
The 63rd, as a part of Mercer's Brigade, was referred to as the "Silver Spoon Brigade" by the hardened veterans of the Army of Tennessee, when they reported to North Georgia in April, 1864. Orders for the Brigade had been diverted by Gov. Joseph Brown from Virginia to North Georgia. He would not allow the Brigade to leave Georgia and only agreed to let them join Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's command, under the guarantee they stay in Georgia.
The Brigade was dubbed the "Silver Spoon Brigade" because they were unaccustomed to sleeping outdoors. At Thunderbolt Battery, they slept in cabins, received homespun clothes and wares and had a number of accommodations afforded them by their proximity to Savannah.
Mercer's Brigade was commanded by Gen. Hugh Weedon Mercer, whose grandfather was the only U.S. General killed in action in the Revolutionary War. His great grandson was the famous songwriter, Johnny Mercer.
T.W. Powell was one of only 47 men to surrender out of an original Regiment numbering over 1200 effectives. After the Surrender, by dint of sheer will, he walked home from North Carolina.
After the War, T.W. Powell, returned to Ga., removing to Clinch Co. GA, in the Fall of 1867, where he, along with others that he met at Thunderbolt Battery and Savannah, Ga., notably Bro. (later Rev.) John G. Norton, Rev. E.B. Carroll (who commanded a company at Thunderbolt), Rev. R.S. Harvey and Rev. James Williamson, sought to remove the church building at Stockton, Ga. from it's location on the Alapaha River to the city proper. Rev. Powell became Stockton Bapt Church's first minister after the relocation was concluded in the Spring of 1868.
Rev. Powell was likely licensed by Stockton Bapt church sometime between Fall 1867 & Spring 1868, although no such record has been found to that effect. See commentary later regarding Rev. E.B. Carroll, who was also given a license to preach by this Church, unsought.
Rev. Powell's name is not found on the 1867 Oath of Allegiance rolls in Clinch Co., GA. This omission is likely due to the twelve month residency requirement to take the oath.
After toiling in Stockton for some two years, about August or Sept in 1870, Rev. Powell removed to Walker Co., GA, invited by his friends Jesse Mercer Shaw and Glenn Williamson. Mr. Powell served with Mr. Shaw at Thunderbolt Battery. During his early tenure in Walker County, Thomas read law, was a book agent for the National Publishing Co., a wheat farmer on Henry Hovis' land near Waterville Baptist Church, & a circuit preacher at numerous churches, after his Ordination at Waterville Bapt. Church, as this Christian Index article, x 14 April 1870, relates:
"On the call of the Baptist Church at Waterville, [Walker] County, Ga., the Sabbath, March 20th, Elders [Shattuck], Young, along with the writer, set apart brother T.W. Powell to the full work of the gospel ministry. Elder Shattuck called for the candidate's experience of grace and impressions to the ministry. The writer examined the candidate upon his doctrinal views of theology. Elder Young made the ordaining prayer - [followed by] imposition of hands by the presbytery. The charge was given by the writer, the right hand of fellowship by the presbytery and church. W.T. Russell."
Rev. James Young removed to Arkansas in 1871. In a letter from that year, Allie Whitlow spoke of her regret over not hearing his last sermon at Waterville Bapt Church.
Rev. Powell initially took up quarters in Walker Co. in a room over Spencer Marsh's store in Lafayette, Ga. The fact that Rev. Powell had frequent contact with Miss Tennie Marsh, the daughter of his landlord, elicited mention and some modicum of jealousy by Miss Allie Whitlow in a letter of Sept. 1870.
During this time period, Rev. Powell began his study of law and court procedures under Judge Spencer Marsh and Judge James Bond. This knowledge benefited Rev. Powell greatly later in his life when he fulfilled the duties of Judge in Berrien Co., Ga. A further benefit of Rev. Powell's association with Judge Bond is that he was likely responsible for introducing Rev. Powell to his neice, Miss Allie Whitlow.
After a few months, and perhaps with encouragement from Miss Allie who wanted to see the object of her affection as far away from Miss Tennie as possible, Rev. Powell was able to secure lodging in a log cabin on Cane Creek, on land that he rented from Henry Hovis, an early pioneer of Walker Co. GA. The Heritage of Walker County mentions that Mr. Hovis' "first home, a cabin built of logs obtained by trading with nearby Indians, still stands on what is now known as the Perry farm on Old Trion Highway."
One letter of Rev. Powell dated 1871 mentions "I came home today and found old lady Hovis dead. Spent the remainder of the day working on her coffin." Cane Creek ran near the cabin & Thomas often fished there, as he mentioned in an 1871 letter, "Went fishing for my breakfast but caught nothing, my usual luck."
1870 was a turning point in Thomas' life. Not only was he ordained to his life calling, perhaps as importantly, he met the woman who would be his wife, Albina (Allie) Whitlow, the daughter of Miles Washington Whitlow, the venerable pioneer settler of Cherokee Georgia.
In an 1871 letter, Rev. Powell touchingly recounted the "happy tears shed by the old man" (Mr. Whitlow) when Thomas asked for Allie's hand in marriage. This tender portrayal seems at stark odds with one account that describes Mr. Whitlow as a hardy, industrious pioneer who had to be followed along in the furrow he was plowing if one desired a social confabulation. One pictures the young Parson thusly trying to gain an audience with the old man.
Allie and Thomas pledged their lives to each other in marriage in Oct 1871 at Antioch Church in Walker Co., GA. Jesse Mercer Shaw, who married Allie's cousin, Mary Camp, was Thomas' "Best Man."
Rev. Powell preached, both full charge and as supply pastor, at numerous churches in Northwest Georgia to include: New Hope North, Mount Harmony, Peavine, Woods Station, Waterville, Menlo and Groves Level. As well, he assisted in organizing Peavine Academy during his tenure there.
His travels along the circuit could not but have stirred memory of the Spring of 1864, when the Army of Tennessee was encamped in these environs. Every hollow and cove echoed the stern exhortations of preachers from all quarters who, fearing that the fortunes of the South were waning, descended on the campfires of the Army of Tennessee with the full fury and force of the Almighty. The Army of Tennessee was solemnly called to drink deep from the chalice of courage, to gird themselves to repel the enemy at all costs and for many, to ready their souls for the Judgment Seat of God.
Every veteran knows well the sight, sound or scent that, with only slight evocation, rushes memories forged in battle to fore in advance of gathering thought. Thomas could not have ridden the same paths over which he wearily trudged, under arms, some few years before, from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn as Gen. Walker's foot cavalry, hastily ordered from one Gap to another to repel the invaders, without hearing the accompanying rattle of musketry, the faint bugle call, the long roll attenuated by shot and cannister, and the witching sounds of battle still alive in his mind. Perhaps his sojourn in northwest Georgia, amongst the battle grounds, was his sole venue for securing solace, this side of the grave.
In 1872, at the behest of Rev. E.B. Carroll of Hickory Head Bapt., Quitman, GA, Bro. John G. Norton of Stockton, GA and Rev. Farley Sweat of Savannah, GA, Rev. Powell felt led to return to the fertile missionary fields of South Georgia, moving to Clinch Co., GA where he returned to his old charge at Stockton Baptist Church. Rev. Powell was instrumental in reconstituting Stockton Baptist Church in 1868 - 1870, having superintended the relocation of the church building, board by board, from it's original location at Carter's Bridge on the Alapaha River to the town of Stockton. The same year, Rev. Powell received the call to Macedonia Baptist Church, as well.
By 1880, the Powell family had established on a farm just outside of Nashville, Berrien Co., GA, in order to facilitate Rev. Powell's call to several other churches in the region.
In 1883, Rev. Powell published an article in the Alabama Baptist and the Texas Baptist Standard newspapers entitled "Hindrances Removed", an exhortation to live a triumphant Christian life. He eloquently delivered the keynote address for the Smyrna Baptist Association at Redlands Baptist Church the same year.
In 1885, Rev. Powell was elected Judge, Court of Ordinary, Berrien Co., GA. He held that office until his untimely death from tuberculosis in 1887.
Thomas Powell suffered his afflictions with courage. In a 1884 letter from his wife Allie to her parents in Walker Co., GA, she stated that Mr. Powell's health, even then, was such that he could not make the long journey for a family visit.
As the end drew near, Rev. Powell's faith increased. The writer of his obituary in The Christian Index stated, "He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and daily conversations to teach the people how they should live but that the balance of his life he expected to devote in teaching them how to die."
Rev. Powell died in his home, attended by caring neighbors, his faithful wife Allie Whitlow Powell, and six young children to mourn his death.
The author of Rev. Powell's obituary in the January 6th, 1888 edition of The Christian Index laments his passing thusly:
"In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its ablest self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate, watching and waiting for his beloved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, thy labor is done;
Rest 'til the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory rise."
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Letter from Rev. T.W. Powell's sister-in-law, Nancy Whitlow Williamson of Cedar Bluff, AL, to his wife, Allie Whitlow, acknowledging Rev. Powell's death:
"Cedar Bluff, Ala.
Sat., Septem. 3rd, 1887
My dear Sister Bina,
Oh! Sister, our hearts are struck with grief to learn that Bro. Powell is no longer of this world. Although we long knew the gravity of his affliction, a person is never ready for such sad news. I prayed for so long that God would spare him, if only for your sake. But, alas! He knows best. Bro. Powell truly was the angel sent by God to live amongst us. Oh, Bina, why are we cursed with sickness and death? There has been aplenty of it in our country & too back in the Cove. Why must this be? We can only hope to gather where no tear is shed. I can still hear Bro. Powell's sweet voice ringing out. I dreamt of you and he coming up the road laughing and waving not a night before your letter & now I weep to think he is no more. We must take solace in knowing that he rests in the midst of the heavenly saints. How many times Bro. Powell has preached that & now we must cling to it as truth. I know it is not your nature, Bina, but you must now take concern with your health for the sake of your children. Take your ease if you can, after this long trial. I know nursing Bro. Powell and your baby was about all you can bear. We were making a start to Walker when your black letter of the 25th ult. reached our hand. And so we had the mean task of delivering the news to relations there. We went down to Mercer's and he and Glenn drove on to Burning Bush to tell Bro. Russell as you requested. Cousin Mercer will tell all down at Waterville Sunday next. I am glad you wrote some. You asked what accommodations could be fashioned in Walker if you sold out. Glenn & Mercer & Tobe all said they would come down to move you up if you desire. You only need let them know. I know you have connections there, Bina, but you still have good friends and family amongst us in these mountains. Ma says you are welcome to move up to her old place if it suits you. Bina, the fresh mountain air might revive your spirits. You must be wilting in the heat. This country will be a cool respite for you. Come and let us comfort you, Sister. Tobe will slaughter in a few weeks so the smoke house will be chock full. Suge's kitchen garden has growed the largest tomatos I ever seen. Oh, do come, Bina, if only for a visit. The boys can take care of your affairs there. Ma can not wait to see the red hair on that baby girl. Write and tell us when you will arrive & Glen & I will come up. We send our love and deep sympathy. Do not put this letter down without writing your true Sister back.
I sign myself,
Your devoted sister,
Nanie
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The Alabama Baptist, x 1 Feb 1883:
Hindrances Removed
by Rev. T.W. Powell
What a lesson we have from the faith of the women who went at the early dawn to visit the sepulchre. Genuine love for Christ does not sit down with folded hands and defeated hopes, because of great hindrances. They saw the crucified Savior buried and the great stone rolled to the door. They doubtless knew that a strong guard of Roman soldiers stood to block every visitor. And, yet these women who believed in Jesus as the true Messiah came bearing the spices which they had prepared with as much eagerness and promptness as if no hindrances were in the way.
True Love Begins With Faith
They evidently believed that the hindrances would be removed, though they knew not how. They said as they went, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?" It was not a question as to whether, but how. They had implicit faith that it would be done, though they knew not how, or by whom. Here was faith, when reason failed. They had learned to "trust" where they could not trace. There is no lesson to be learned more needed than that of faith when great hindrances stand in the way. There is a great deal of faith in the world but it is largely the kind of the old market-woman who said she trusted in Providence, until the harness broke. One said, "There is no use to pray for rain as long as the wind is in the north." This aptly describes what passes for Christian faith. We need more of the faith of the women who started while "it was yet dark," toward the stone that was too great for them to move, and in the face of the strong guard, charged, at the peril of their lives, to allow no disciple to visit the tomb. Faith will sometimes question, "Who shall roll us away the stone?" - but will move right on toward opposing guard and closed door.
Faith Rewarded
Is there any more beautiful picture than that which is here given: "The angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it." The affrightened guards stand paralyzed, or flee in terror. The angel beckons the women in, at the open door. What rich reward awaits, always a genuine faith that falters not in the face of great hindrances. Out into the darkness we may go. Opposers hedge our way. A huge hindrance which we cannot move is rolled against the door of our opportunity. Shall we move on bearing the sweet spices of affection and service for our Lord? Oh, my soul, falter not, and thou shall see the good angel of victory seated on hindrance removed. Press out while it is yet dark, toward the sealed stone, in the face of the armed guard. Men vanish; mountains melt away; midnight gives place to the rising sun.
Greatest Hindrances, Best Success
"The stone was rolled away for it was very great." The greatness of the stone is given as reason why it was rolled away. God sent an angel beause their strength was not equal to the task. Faith may make courage, then, just because the hindrances are so far beyond our own power of removing. The greatest anxiety is to be concerning the stones which we, ourselves, can roll away. The angel of the Lord can see to the rest. Genuine love for Christ is prompt in unselfish devotion, bringing early the best offerings. It moves on, in the face of great hindrances and the more insurmountable the difficulty, the greater the assurance that the Lord will provide.
"March on, then, righteous ones,
The sea shall divide,
The pathways made glorious,
With shoutings victorious,
We join in the chorus,
The Lord will provide."
(A copy of this article graciously provided by the Special Collections, Samford University, Birmingham, AL.)
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The Christian Index, x Thursday, 6 Jan 1888:
Obituaries
REV. T. W. POWELL
The subject of this sketch was born somewhere in Georgia, March 28th, 1838, and died August 15th, 1887, near Nashville, Berrien County, Ga., thus passing away after a long protracted illness in his 49th year. He was in the ministry seventeen years, and was unswerving in fulfilling every duty which fell to his part. As a citizen and neighbor, Bro. Powell had few equals and no superiors. His generous nature was ever open to the appeals of charity; in him the widow, orphan and poor ever found a true friend. As a follower of Christ, he ever manifested, by humbleness of heart and gentleness of spirit, the truths he held sacred in his heart, and so often ably preached to others; those were the truths that cheered him in the golden hours of life, and supported and comforted him in the sad hours of his affliction. He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and godly conversations, to teach the people how they should live, but that the balance of this life, he expected to devote in teaching them how to die. During his afflictions, his prayer was that the time might speedily come for his departure from this life. He often told his dear companion that he was ready at any time, and really anxious for it to come.
As the preacher, he ever contended for the faith once delivered to the apostles. He was anxious in spirit, strong in his views, earnest and able in the expositions, and charitable and zealous in his exhortations. In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its able, self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for his end is peace."
Bro. Powell possessed a most excellent spirit. At his house he was hospitable and kind to all. He ruled well, his own home, possessing the love and affections of his noble, unassuming and devoted wife, and bringing his children up with all gravity, thus training them early in the way they should ever walk. In his family, he was the center of all earthly love. He leaves a wife and six children, and a host of friends to mourn his loss.
We miss him; we grieve over our loss, but we know it is his eternal gain. He is not dead, but sleepeth. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate watching and waiting for his loved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, they labor is done;
Rest till the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory arise.
ONE WHO LOVED HIM."
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Rev. Thomas Powell's Christian Journey
The full account of Rev. Powell's conversion to Christianity is, perhaps, lost to the ages. In a letter to Allie Whitlow, T.W. Powell mentioned that his mother [Sarah May Powell] had prayed he would be "spared to be used as a vessel for the Lord." Mrs. Powell clearly was an early influence on Thomas Powell's spiritual calling.
No record has been located for his licensing, which presumably came at Stockton Baptist Church in Clinch Co., GA in 1868, in the same manner as described in the biography of Rev. E.B. Carroll in Biographical Sketches of Prominent Baptists (Campbell, 1905): "When the War ended and he (Rev. Carroll) returned home, he could find no employment but teaching, in which he has been engaged ever since. The church at Stockton, where he was teaching, give him, unsought, a license to preach, and in 1868, he was ordained at Macedonia Church, without having requested it, by a presbytery consisting of Rev.s James Williamson and R.S. Harvey."
The record of ministers at Macedonia includes all of the above men: Rev. Raymond S. Harvey 1862-66, Rev. James W. Williamson 1868-69, Rev. Edwin B. Carroll 1869-72, Rev. T.W. Powell 1872-74.
Rev. E.B. Carroll was instrumental in persuading Rev. Powell to return to South Georgia. He was likely equally influential in dissuading him from moving to Texas, where Allie Whitlow's family had removed to, although Rev. Powell admitted in one letter that an inheritance claim he was seeking in his grandmother's estate [Clarissa Akridge Powell] in 1871 Alabama did not work out in his favor thus limiting the financial resources needed to make the long journey to Texas.
In one report to the Mercer Baptist Assn, Rev. Carroll stated that "We have been blessed to secure the services of Bro. Powell, who has agreed to return to his post at Stockton." One letter among several that Rev. Powell wrote in 1872 was postmarked from Quitman, Ga., the location of Hickory Head Bapt, where Rev. Carroll preached. Although not mentioned in his letters, one can assume Rev. Powell visited with Rev. Carroll in Quitman for a short period of time on his way to look for a homestead in Clinch Co., since Quitman seems to be somewhat out of the course of travel from NW Ga. to Stockton, Ga.
Rev. Carroll was stationed at Savannah during the War, the same as Rev. Powell. He, like Rev. Powell, had Tarheel roots, having been born in North Carolina in 1842 before removing to Clinch Co., GA with his father's family in 1849. The influence of Rev. Carroll, Rev. Farley Sweat, who preached at Thunderbolt Battery where T.W. Powell was stationed (from letters at Georgia Archives written by a member of the 63rd GA Regiment), and Bro. John G. Norton, from an old Savannah family, can not be understated.
Rev. Powell's ordination occurred at Waterville Baptist Church, Walker Co., GA in March 1870, as previously noted in The Christian Index article.
Thomas Powell was clearly active in the ministry at Thunderbolt Battery in the early years of the War, so it would be safe to assume that his conversion came before his military service commenced in 1862. Although, given the hardships and danger of war, his tenure with the 63rd Georgia Infantry might well have been his "road to Damascus", serving, perhaps to convert, but more certainly to strengthen his faith, as was so with one of his 63rd Georgia Regiment comrades, in the story recounted below from the Confederate Veteran magazine:
"During the skirmish or battle, between the picket lines of the 18th of June, 1864, in the campaign about Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., Evan Harvey Lawrence, a member of the 63rd Georgia Regiment, carried in his left breast pocket a Bible. A minie-ball struck him, and but for this book over his heart, the young soldier would have been killed. It seems that the Bible had been given to him by his friend, Col. John Q. Adams, of the 63rd Regiment, and after getting in communication with Colonel Adams some years after the War, Mr. Lawrence wrote: "I thought you dead long ago, or would have hunted you up, but, living or dead, I've thought of you for twenty years. Do you remember the Bible you gave me just to fit my side breast pocket? It went through many battles with me, but at Kennesaw Mountain, that Bible saved my life. A bullet hit me in the left side, going through my coat and shirt, then into the Bible, stopping at the fifty-second chapter of Isaiah, seventh verse. I still have the Book, with the ball resting where it stopped. And so, God bless you, old friend, now and forevermore."
Evan Harvey Lawrence, like Thomas Wm Powell, entered the ministry of the Baptist faith after the War, and his first sermon was preached from the text showing the last break made by the minie-ball, that on which it's point rested.
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Thomas Powell's Christmas, 1864:
[Extract from Under the Stars and Bars, by Walter A. Clark, 63rd Georgia Regiment, CSA]
A Christmas Day With Forrest
It was the winter of '64 and to those of us who wore the grey, it was likewise the "winter of our discontent." The hopes of the Confederacy were on the wane. The clouds above it had no silver lining, free or otherwise. Sherman was "marching through Georgia," leaving in his wake the ashes of many a Southern home. Hood's reckless raid on Nashville had ended in disaster and his ragged battalions were making tracks for the Tennessee River, some of them barefeet, at a quickstep known to the Confederate tacticians as "double distance on half rations."
The [63rd] had fortunately escaped the butchery at Franklin against which Forrest had so strongly protested. As this immunity was due to our having been detained with Smith's Brigade to ferry a salt train across the Tennessee River, salt had literally "saved our bacon."
After rejoining the Army, we had been again detached to operate under Gen. Forrest near Murfreesboro and, in this way, had missed the rout at Nashville. Aside from these immunities, the campaign had been one of exceptional hardships. The weather was bitterly cold and our wardrobes were sparse. The writer wore a thread bare thin fatigue jacket, with no overcoat and slept under a single blanket with the thermometer at nine degrees above zero. For a week prior to the retreat, we had been engaged in the pleasant pastime of handling, with ungloved hands, railroad ties and rails encased in sleet and snow. And yet I can not recall a single complaint. It is my deliberate conviction, based upon this and similar evidence, that the Confederate soldier fought harder on shorter rations and grumbled less under greater privations than any soldier in history.
The battle of Nashville began on the morning of Dec. 15th, and for two days, thirty miles away, we listened to the thunder of artillery and anxiously awaited the issue.
At 1 a.m. Dec. 17th, we were aroused to begin the longest, hardest forced march of our four years' service. Columbia, the point of junction with Hood's retreating Army, is sixty miles away and we have to make it in forty-eight hours or risk almost certain capture by a force ten times our own. It is cold, dark and raining - a dreary combination. The roads are a mass of mud. For twenty one hours we plow wearily ahead before being given a brief rest. We are up again on the march with slower step. I breakfast on an ear of corn picked up from a roadside field, smearing it with black grease from the bottom of my fry pan.
On reaching Columbia, we are assigned rear guard under Forrest and Walthall, who are instructed by Hood to sacrifice every man if necessary to ensure the safety of the retreating Army on the Pike moving south towards the Tennessee River.
Manning trenches half filled with snow and holding the enemy in check for a few days so as to give Hood a fair start in the race, we begin our retreat from this point on Dec. 22nd, and on Christmas eve wound up near Pulaski, Tenn.
Coiled up in a blanket on the cold, bare ground, no visions of Santa Claus, nor hopes of a Christmas menu on the morrow brighten our dreams.
Early Christmas morn we are gathered around the camp fire awaiting orders to march. Frank Stone, tall and thin, so thin that Charlie Goetchus had advised him to always present his side view to the enemy, as a minie ball would never reach his anatomy in that position, ambles up on a horse he secured from the cavalry. Frank had manfully tried to keep up with the procession. Half sick, his shoes worn soleless, his feet lacerated and bleeding, he had marched when every step was agony, and crawled on hands and knees until human nature could endure no more.
Fortunately, one of Forrest's cavalry had a spare horse that saved him from a Northern prison and sure death. Frank had no saddle and to supply that need the boys had piled his steed with blankets to a depth of five or six inches. As he rode up, his eye fell on a lot of cooking utensils that had to be left for lack of transportation.
Turning to Will Daniels he said, "Lieutenant, hadn't I better take along some of these?" Gen. Forrest, standing a few feet away unobserved, grave and silent, now announces himself with a blistering retort to Frank's innocent question, "I think you've got a damned sight more now than you're entitled to." Frank, stunned by the General's sharp words, made no reply and that was the end of that.
The bugle sounds and we are on the march again. About midday we halt at the summit of a ridge with an old line of breastworks skirting its crest. We are told "Fall In!" The ranks are hastily formed, the trenches manned and Morton's battery is planted a short distance from us. Our Regiment is placed as support for the battery and, as we make ready, Gen. Forrest passes in front of us, in a half bent position. Reaching the trenches, he watches the advance of the enemy carefully and hurries to the rear.
In a moment we hear the clatter of horse's hooves and the "Wizard of the Saddle" dashes by at half speed, riding magnificently, his martial figure as straight as an arrow, a very God of War, yelling as he reaches the waiting ranks, "Charge!"
Over the breastworks flashes a line of grey and down the slope they sweep, the "Rebel Yell" heard at every step.
The Captain commanding our Regiment is undecided as to his duty, but finally orders us to retain our position guarding the battery. Just then, Gen. Featherston rides up,
"What Regiment is this?"
"63rd Georgia, Sir."
"What are you doing here?"
"Supporting this battery, Sir."
"Battery, the devil. Git over them breastworks and git quick."
We git.
The skirmish is soon over. The Yankees fled, leaving a piece of artillery and a number of horses in our possession. More importantly, our charge stopped the Yankee line of march, for a few hours while they sent out patrols to see if this was the entire Army or just a delaying force.
We hold our position until late in the afternoon when we are relieved by Red Jackson's cavalry. As we are filing off the enemy reappears and the cavalry carbines provide a parting echo. Night comes on and if there ever was a darker or more starless one, I can not place it. Tramping in the cold and mud, companies and regiments are comingled. No one knows where he is supposed to be. Elmore Dunbar was carrying the Regimental colors and but for his occasional whistling imitation of the bugle call, our Regiment would have been lost in the darkness.
I can not conceive how a larger share of unadulterated physical discomfort could have been compressed into that Christmas night. No Christmas has passed since that I have not thought of it, often with tears in my eyes. Of all the Christmas days that have come to me in this life, only this one stands out in gloomy prominence as utterly wanting in every element of the season's cheer and gladness.
Yet, looking backward through the mists of more than thirty years now, recalling its dangers and discomforts, its toil, weariness and hunger, I would not, if I could blot that day's record from the memory, for o'er its somber shadows fell and falls today, the light that comes to every true heart in the path of duty.
[Under the Stars and Bars or, Memories of Four Years Service with the Oglethorpes of Augusta, Georgia by Walter A. Clarke. Published by Chronicle Publishing Co., 1900.]
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Rev. Thomas Wm Powell was born March 23, 1839 in Heard County, Georgia. His obituary in The Christian Index states a birth year of 1838.
The family line of Rev. Powell has been firmly established via DNA testing of Rev. Powell's autosomal and Y-DNA cousins. The Powell family originated in Brunswick Co., VA, migrating to Chatham Co., NC, and into Clarke, Fayette and Heard Co.s, Georgia, the latter county being Rev. Powell's place of birth.
At the beginning of the Civil War, Rev. Powell enlisted in Co. I, 63rd Georgia Infantry in Dec 1862 in Bartow Co., GA. This unit was initially stationed at Thunderbolt Battery near Savannah, GA. While stationed at Thunderbolt, Rev. Powell was instrumental in starting the Young Men's Christian Society. He faithfully served with the Regiment throughout the conflict, ministering to the men as Chaplain when needed, and participating in the battles at Fort Wagner, made famous by the movie "Glory", Resaca, Kennesaw, where the 63rd Georgia was cited for gallantry, Atlanta, Spring Hill, Franklin, Nashville, the delaying action at Anthony's Hill under Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest over Christmas 1864, the skirmishes in South Carolina and the final battle at Bentonville, NC under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston in the fateful Spring of 1865.
Thomas Powell received a pardon at the Surrender, Greensboro, NC, 1 May 1865, along with the tattered remnant of the Army of Tennessee, defeated in battle by a foe ten times stronger but unbroken in spirit, with the full knowledge that he served with honor and distinction. The 1891 veteran records of Bartow Co., GA, the parent county of Co. I, 63rd GA corroborates Thomas Powell's service.
T.W. Powell likely chose this Regiment because of it's coastal location and, perhaps, because the company commander of I Co., CPT C.W. Howard, was a minister. As well, and perhaps most importantly, the 63rd enjoyed the protection of Gov. Joseph Brown, who, chaffing at the demand for more Georgia Regiments to be sent to defend Virginia, promised to keep the 63rd on Georgia's native soil.
The 63rd, as a part of Mercer's Brigade, was referred to as the "Silver Spoon Brigade" by the hardened veterans of the Army of Tennessee, when they reported to North Georgia in April, 1864. Orders for the Brigade had been diverted by Gov. Joseph Brown from Virginia to North Georgia. He would not allow the Brigade to leave Georgia and only agreed to let them join Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's command, under the guarantee they stay in Georgia.
The Brigade was dubbed the "Silver Spoon Brigade" because they were unaccustomed to sleeping outdoors. At Thunderbolt Battery, they slept in cabins, received homespun clothes and wares and had a number of accommodations afforded them by their proximity to Savannah.
Mercer's Brigade was commanded by Gen. Hugh Weedon Mercer, whose grandfather was the only U.S. General killed in action in the Revolutionary War. His great grandson was the famous songwriter, Johnny Mercer.
T.W. Powell was one of only 47 men to surrender out of an original Regiment numbering over 1200 effectives. After the Surrender, by dint of sheer will, he walked home from North Carolina.
After the War, T.W. Powell, returned to Ga., removing to Clinch Co. GA, in the Fall of 1867, where he, along with others that he met at Thunderbolt Battery and Savannah, Ga., notably Bro. (later Rev.) John G. Norton, Rev. E.B. Carroll (who commanded a company at Thunderbolt), Rev. R.S. Harvey and Rev. James Williamson, sought to remove the church building at Stockton, Ga. from it's location on the Alapaha River to the city proper. Rev. Powell became Stockton Bapt Church's first minister after the relocation was concluded in the Spring of 1868.
Rev. Powell was likely licensed by Stockton Bapt church sometime between Fall 1867 & Spring 1868, although no such record has been found to that effect. See commentary later regarding Rev. E.B. Carroll, who was also given a license to preach by this Church, unsought.
Rev. Powell's name is not found on the 1867 Oath of Allegiance rolls in Clinch Co., GA. This omission is likely due to the twelve month residency requirement to take the oath.
After toiling in Stockton for some two years, about August or Sept in 1870, Rev. Powell removed to Walker Co., GA, invited by his friends Jesse Mercer Shaw and Glenn Williamson. Mr. Powell served with Mr. Shaw at Thunderbolt Battery. During his early tenure in Walker County, Thomas read law, was a book agent for the National Publishing Co., a wheat farmer on Henry Hovis' land near Waterville Baptist Church, & a circuit preacher at numerous churches, after his Ordination at Waterville Bapt. Church, as this Christian Index article, x 14 April 1870, relates:
"On the call of the Baptist Church at Waterville, [Walker] County, Ga., the Sabbath, March 20th, Elders [Shattuck], Young, along with the writer, set apart brother T.W. Powell to the full work of the gospel ministry. Elder Shattuck called for the candidate's experience of grace and impressions to the ministry. The writer examined the candidate upon his doctrinal views of theology. Elder Young made the ordaining prayer - [followed by] imposition of hands by the presbytery. The charge was given by the writer, the right hand of fellowship by the presbytery and church. W.T. Russell."
Rev. James Young removed to Arkansas in 1871. In a letter from that year, Allie Whitlow spoke of her regret over not hearing his last sermon at Waterville Bapt Church.
Rev. Powell initially took up quarters in Walker Co. in a room over Spencer Marsh's store in Lafayette, Ga. The fact that Rev. Powell had frequent contact with Miss Tennie Marsh, the daughter of his landlord, elicited mention and some modicum of jealousy by Miss Allie Whitlow in a letter of Sept. 1870.
During this time period, Rev. Powell began his study of law and court procedures under Judge Spencer Marsh and Judge James Bond. This knowledge benefited Rev. Powell greatly later in his life when he fulfilled the duties of Judge in Berrien Co., Ga. A further benefit of Rev. Powell's association with Judge Bond is that he was likely responsible for introducing Rev. Powell to his neice, Miss Allie Whitlow.
After a few months, and perhaps with encouragement from Miss Allie who wanted to see the object of her affection as far away from Miss Tennie as possible, Rev. Powell was able to secure lodging in a log cabin on Cane Creek, on land that he rented from Henry Hovis, an early pioneer of Walker Co. GA. The Heritage of Walker County mentions that Mr. Hovis' "first home, a cabin built of logs obtained by trading with nearby Indians, still stands on what is now known as the Perry farm on Old Trion Highway."
One letter of Rev. Powell dated 1871 mentions "I came home today and found old lady Hovis dead. Spent the remainder of the day working on her coffin." Cane Creek ran near the cabin & Thomas often fished there, as he mentioned in an 1871 letter, "Went fishing for my breakfast but caught nothing, my usual luck."
1870 was a turning point in Thomas' life. Not only was he ordained to his life calling, perhaps as importantly, he met the woman who would be his wife, Albina (Allie) Whitlow, the daughter of Miles Washington Whitlow, the venerable pioneer settler of Cherokee Georgia.
In an 1871 letter, Rev. Powell touchingly recounted the "happy tears shed by the old man" (Mr. Whitlow) when Thomas asked for Allie's hand in marriage. This tender portrayal seems at stark odds with one account that describes Mr. Whitlow as a hardy, industrious pioneer who had to be followed along in the furrow he was plowing if one desired a social confabulation. One pictures the young Parson thusly trying to gain an audience with the old man.
Allie and Thomas pledged their lives to each other in marriage in Oct 1871 at Antioch Church in Walker Co., GA. Jesse Mercer Shaw, who married Allie's cousin, Mary Camp, was Thomas' "Best Man."
Rev. Powell preached, both full charge and as supply pastor, at numerous churches in Northwest Georgia to include: New Hope North, Mount Harmony, Peavine, Woods Station, Waterville, Menlo and Groves Level. As well, he assisted in organizing Peavine Academy during his tenure there.
His travels along the circuit could not but have stirred memory of the Spring of 1864, when the Army of Tennessee was encamped in these environs. Every hollow and cove echoed the stern exhortations of preachers from all quarters who, fearing that the fortunes of the South were waning, descended on the campfires of the Army of Tennessee with the full fury and force of the Almighty. The Army of Tennessee was solemnly called to drink deep from the chalice of courage, to gird themselves to repel the enemy at all costs and for many, to ready their souls for the Judgment Seat of God.
Every veteran knows well the sight, sound or scent that, with only slight evocation, rushes memories forged in battle to fore in advance of gathering thought. Thomas could not have ridden the same paths over which he wearily trudged, under arms, some few years before, from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn as Gen. Walker's foot cavalry, hastily ordered from one Gap to another to repel the invaders, without hearing the accompanying rattle of musketry, the faint bugle call, the long roll attenuated by shot and cannister, and the witching sounds of battle still alive in his mind. Perhaps his sojourn in northwest Georgia, amongst the battle grounds, was his sole venue for securing solace, this side of the grave.
In 1872, at the behest of Rev. E.B. Carroll of Hickory Head Bapt., Quitman, GA, Bro. John G. Norton of Stockton, GA and Rev. Farley Sweat of Savannah, GA, Rev. Powell felt led to return to the fertile missionary fields of South Georgia, moving to Clinch Co., GA where he returned to his old charge at Stockton Baptist Church. Rev. Powell was instrumental in reconstituting Stockton Baptist Church in 1868 - 1870, having superintended the relocation of the church building, board by board, from it's original location at Carter's Bridge on the Alapaha River to the town of Stockton. The same year, Rev. Powell received the call to Macedonia Baptist Church, as well.
By 1880, the Powell family had established on a farm just outside of Nashville, Berrien Co., GA, in order to facilitate Rev. Powell's call to several other churches in the region.
In 1883, Rev. Powell published an article in the Alabama Baptist and the Texas Baptist Standard newspapers entitled "Hindrances Removed", an exhortation to live a triumphant Christian life. He eloquently delivered the keynote address for the Smyrna Baptist Association at Redlands Baptist Church the same year.
In 1885, Rev. Powell was elected Judge, Court of Ordinary, Berrien Co., GA. He held that office until his untimely death from tuberculosis in 1887.
Thomas Powell suffered his afflictions with courage. In a 1884 letter from his wife Allie to her parents in Walker Co., GA, she stated that Mr. Powell's health, even then, was such that he could not make the long journey for a family visit.
As the end drew near, Rev. Powell's faith increased. The writer of his obituary in The Christian Index stated, "He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and daily conversations to teach the people how they should live but that the balance of his life he expected to devote in teaching them how to die."
Rev. Powell died in his home, attended by caring neighbors, his faithful wife Allie Whitlow Powell, and six young children to mourn his death.
The author of Rev. Powell's obituary in the January 6th, 1888 edition of The Christian Index laments his passing thusly:
"In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its ablest self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate, watching and waiting for his beloved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, thy labor is done;
Rest 'til the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory rise."
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Letter from Rev. T.W. Powell's sister-in-law, Nancy Whitlow Williamson of Cedar Bluff, AL, to his wife, Allie Whitlow, acknowledging Rev. Powell's death:
"Cedar Bluff, Ala.
Sat., Septem. 3rd, 1887
My dear Sister Bina,
Oh! Sister, our hearts are struck with grief to learn that Bro. Powell is no longer of this world. Although we long knew the gravity of his affliction, a person is never ready for such sad news. I prayed for so long that God would spare him, if only for your sake. But, alas! He knows best. Bro. Powell truly was the angel sent by God to live amongst us. Oh, Bina, why are we cursed with sickness and death? There has been aplenty of it in our country & too back in the Cove. Why must this be? We can only hope to gather where no tear is shed. I can still hear Bro. Powell's sweet voice ringing out. I dreamt of you and he coming up the road laughing and waving not a night before your letter & now I weep to think he is no more. We must take solace in knowing that he rests in the midst of the heavenly saints. How many times Bro. Powell has preached that & now we must cling to it as truth. I know it is not your nature, Bina, but you must now take concern with your health for the sake of your children. Take your ease if you can, after this long trial. I know nursing Bro. Powell and your baby was about all you can bear. We were making a start to Walker when your black letter of the 25th ult. reached our hand. And so we had the mean task of delivering the news to relations there. We went down to Mercer's and he and Glenn drove on to Burning Bush to tell Bro. Russell as you requested. Cousin Mercer will tell all down at Waterville Sunday next. I am glad you wrote some. You asked what accommodations could be fashioned in Walker if you sold out. Glenn & Mercer & Tobe all said they would come down to move you up if you desire. You only need let them know. I know you have connections there, Bina, but you still have good friends and family amongst us in these mountains. Ma says you are welcome to move up to her old place if it suits you. Bina, the fresh mountain air might revive your spirits. You must be wilting in the heat. This country will be a cool respite for you. Come and let us comfort you, Sister. Tobe will slaughter in a few weeks so the smoke house will be chock full. Suge's kitchen garden has growed the largest tomatos I ever seen. Oh, do come, Bina, if only for a visit. The boys can take care of your affairs there. Ma can not wait to see the red hair on that baby girl. Write and tell us when you will arrive & Glen & I will come up. We send our love and deep sympathy. Do not put this letter down without writing your true Sister back.
I sign myself,
Your devoted sister,
Nanie
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The Alabama Baptist, x 1 Feb 1883:
Hindrances Removed
by Rev. T.W. Powell
What a lesson we have from the faith of the women who went at the early dawn to visit the sepulchre. Genuine love for Christ does not sit down with folded hands and defeated hopes, because of great hindrances. They saw the crucified Savior buried and the great stone rolled to the door. They doubtless knew that a strong guard of Roman soldiers stood to block every visitor. And, yet these women who believed in Jesus as the true Messiah came bearing the spices which they had prepared with as much eagerness and promptness as if no hindrances were in the way.
True Love Begins With Faith
They evidently believed that the hindrances would be removed, though they knew not how. They said as they went, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?" It was not a question as to whether, but how. They had implicit faith that it would be done, though they knew not how, or by whom. Here was faith, when reason failed. They had learned to "trust" where they could not trace. There is no lesson to be learned more needed than that of faith when great hindrances stand in the way. There is a great deal of faith in the world but it is largely the kind of the old market-woman who said she trusted in Providence, until the harness broke. One said, "There is no use to pray for rain as long as the wind is in the north." This aptly describes what passes for Christian faith. We need more of the faith of the women who started while "it was yet dark," toward the stone that was too great for them to move, and in the face of the strong guard, charged, at the peril of their lives, to allow no disciple to visit the tomb. Faith will sometimes question, "Who shall roll us away the stone?" - but will move right on toward opposing guard and closed door.
Faith Rewarded
Is there any more beautiful picture than that which is here given: "The angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it." The affrightened guards stand paralyzed, or flee in terror. The angel beckons the women in, at the open door. What rich reward awaits, always a genuine faith that falters not in the face of great hindrances. Out into the darkness we may go. Opposers hedge our way. A huge hindrance which we cannot move is rolled against the door of our opportunity. Shall we move on bearing the sweet spices of affection and service for our Lord? Oh, my soul, falter not, and thou shall see the good angel of victory seated on hindrance removed. Press out while it is yet dark, toward the sealed stone, in the face of the armed guard. Men vanish; mountains melt away; midnight gives place to the rising sun.
Greatest Hindrances, Best Success
"The stone was rolled away for it was very great." The greatness of the stone is given as reason why it was rolled away. God sent an angel beause their strength was not equal to the task. Faith may make courage, then, just because the hindrances are so far beyond our own power of removing. The greatest anxiety is to be concerning the stones which we, ourselves, can roll away. The angel of the Lord can see to the rest. Genuine love for Christ is prompt in unselfish devotion, bringing early the best offerings. It moves on, in the face of great hindrances and the more insurmountable the difficulty, the greater the assurance that the Lord will provide.
"March on, then, righteous ones,
The sea shall divide,
The pathways made glorious,
With shoutings victorious,
We join in the chorus,
The Lord will provide."
(A copy of this article graciously provided by the Special Collections, Samford University, Birmingham, AL.)
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The Christian Index, x Thursday, 6 Jan 1888:
Obituaries
REV. T. W. POWELL
The subject of this sketch was born somewhere in Georgia, March 28th, 1838, and died August 15th, 1887, near Nashville, Berrien County, Ga., thus passing away after a long protracted illness in his 49th year. He was in the ministry seventeen years, and was unswerving in fulfilling every duty which fell to his part. As a citizen and neighbor, Bro. Powell had few equals and no superiors. His generous nature was ever open to the appeals of charity; in him the widow, orphan and poor ever found a true friend. As a follower of Christ, he ever manifested, by humbleness of heart and gentleness of spirit, the truths he held sacred in his heart, and so often ably preached to others; those were the truths that cheered him in the golden hours of life, and supported and comforted him in the sad hours of his affliction. He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and godly conversations, to teach the people how they should live, but that the balance of this life, he expected to devote in teaching them how to die. During his afflictions, his prayer was that the time might speedily come for his departure from this life. He often told his dear companion that he was ready at any time, and really anxious for it to come.
As the preacher, he ever contended for the faith once delivered to the apostles. He was anxious in spirit, strong in his views, earnest and able in the expositions, and charitable and zealous in his exhortations. In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its able, self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for his end is peace."
Bro. Powell possessed a most excellent spirit. At his house he was hospitable and kind to all. He ruled well, his own home, possessing the love and affections of his noble, unassuming and devoted wife, and bringing his children up with all gravity, thus training them early in the way they should ever walk. In his family, he was the center of all earthly love. He leaves a wife and six children, and a host of friends to mourn his loss.
We miss him; we grieve over our loss, but we know it is his eternal gain. He is not dead, but sleepeth. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate watching and waiting for his loved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, they labor is done;
Rest till the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory arise.
ONE WHO LOVED HIM."
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Rev. Thomas Powell's Christian Journey
The full account of Rev. Powell's conversion to Christianity is, perhaps, lost to the ages. In a letter to Allie Whitlow, T.W. Powell mentioned that his mother [Sarah May Powell] had prayed he would be "spared to be used as a vessel for the Lord." Mrs. Powell clearly was an early influence on Thomas Powell's spiritual calling.
No record has been located for his licensing, which presumably came at Stockton Baptist Church in Clinch Co., GA in 1868, in the same manner as described in the biography of Rev. E.B. Carroll in Biographical Sketches of Prominent Baptists (Campbell, 1905): "When the War ended and he (Rev. Carroll) returned home, he could find no employment but teaching, in which he has been engaged ever since. The church at Stockton, where he was teaching, give him, unsought, a license to preach, and in 1868, he was ordained at Macedonia Church, without having requested it, by a presbytery consisting of Rev.s James Williamson and R.S. Harvey."
The record of ministers at Macedonia includes all of the above men: Rev. Raymond S. Harvey 1862-66, Rev. James W. Williamson 1868-69, Rev. Edwin B. Carroll 1869-72, Rev. T.W. Powell 1872-74.
Rev. E.B. Carroll was instrumental in persuading Rev. Powell to return to South Georgia. He was likely equally influential in dissuading him from moving to Texas, where Allie Whitlow's family had removed to, although Rev. Powell admitted in one letter that an inheritance claim he was seeking in his grandmother's estate [Clarissa Akridge Powell] in 1871 Alabama did not work out in his favor thus limiting the financial resources needed to make the long journey to Texas.
In one report to the Mercer Baptist Assn, Rev. Carroll stated that "We have been blessed to secure the services of Bro. Powell, who has agreed to return to his post at Stockton." One letter among several that Rev. Powell wrote in 1872 was postmarked from Quitman, Ga., the location of Hickory Head Bapt, where Rev. Carroll preached. Although not mentioned in his letters, one can assume Rev. Powell visited with Rev. Carroll in Quitman for a short period of time on his way to look for a homestead in Clinch Co., since Quitman seems to be somewhat out of the course of travel from NW Ga. to Stockton, Ga.
Rev. Carroll was stationed at Savannah during the War, the same as Rev. Powell. He, like Rev. Powell, had Tarheel roots, having been born in North Carolina in 1842 before removing to Clinch Co., GA with his father's family in 1849. The influence of Rev. Carroll, Rev. Farley Sweat, who preached at Thunderbolt Battery where T.W. Powell was stationed (from letters at Georgia Archives written by a member of the 63rd GA Regiment), and Bro. John G. Norton, from an old Savannah family, can not be understated.
Rev. Powell's ordination occurred at Waterville Baptist Church, Walker Co., GA in March 1870, as previously noted in The Christian Index article.
Thomas Powell was clearly active in the ministry at Thunderbolt Battery in the early years of the War, so it would be safe to assume that his conversion came before his military service commenced in 1862. Although, given the hardships and danger of war, his tenure with the 63rd Georgia Infantry might well have been his "road to Damascus", serving, perhaps to convert, but more certainly to strengthen his faith, as was so with one of his 63rd Georgia Regiment comrades, in the story recounted below from the Confederate Veteran magazine:
"During the skirmish or battle, between the picket lines of the 18th of June, 1864, in the campaign about Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., Evan Harvey Lawrence, a member of the 63rd Georgia Regiment, carried in his left breast pocket a Bible. A minie-ball struck him, and but for this book over his heart, the young soldier would have been killed. It seems that the Bible had been given to him by his friend, Col. John Q. Adams, of the 63rd Regiment, and after getting in communication with Colonel Adams some years after the War, Mr. Lawrence wrote: "I thought you dead long ago, or would have hunted you up, but, living or dead, I've thought of you for twenty years. Do you remember the Bible you gave me just to fit my side breast pocket? It went through many battles with me, but at Kennesaw Mountain, that Bible saved my life. A bullet hit me in the left side, going through my coat and shirt, then into the Bible, stopping at the fifty-second chapter of Isaiah, seventh verse. I still have the Book, with the ball resting where it stopped. And so, God bless you, old friend, now and forevermore."
Evan Harvey Lawrence, like Thomas Wm Powell, entered the ministry of the Baptist faith after the War, and his first sermon was preached from the text showing the last break made by the minie-ball, that on which it's point rested.
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Thomas Powell's Christmas, 1864:
[Extract from Under the Stars and Bars, by Walter A. Clark, 63rd Georgia Regiment, CSA]
A Christmas Day With Forrest
It was the winter of '64 and to those of us who wore the grey, it was likewise the "winter of our discontent." The hopes of the Confederacy were on the wane. The clouds above it had no silver lining, free or otherwise. Sherman was "marching through Georgia," leaving in his wake the ashes of many a Southern home. Hood's reckless raid on Nashville had ended in disaster and his ragged battalions were making tracks for the Tennessee River, some of them barefeet, at a quickstep known to the Confederate tacticians as "double distance on half rations."
The [63rd] had fortunately escaped the butchery at Franklin against which Forrest had so strongly protested. As this immunity was due to our having been detained with Smith's Brigade to ferry a salt train across the Tennessee River, salt had literally "saved our bacon."
After rejoining the Army, we had been again detached to operate under Gen. Forrest near Murfreesboro and, in this way, had missed the rout at Nashville. Aside from these immunities, the campaign had been one of exceptional hardships. The weather was bitterly cold and our wardrobes were sparse. The writer wore a thread bare thin fatigue jacket, with no overcoat and slept under a single blanket with the thermometer at nine degrees above zero. For a week prior to the retreat, we had been engaged in the pleasant pastime of handling, with ungloved hands, railroad ties and rails encased in sleet and snow. And yet I can not recall a single complaint. It is my deliberate conviction, based upon this and similar evidence, that the Confederate soldier fought harder on shorter rations and grumbled less under greater privations than any soldier in history.
The battle of Nashville began on the morning of Dec. 15th, and for two days, thirty miles away, we listened to the thunder of artillery and anxiously awaited the issue.
At 1 a.m. Dec. 17th, we were aroused to begin the longest, hardest forced march of our four years' service. Columbia, the point of junction with Hood's retreating Army, is sixty miles away and we have to make it in forty-eight hours or risk almost certain capture by a force ten times our own. It is cold, dark and raining - a dreary combination. The roads are a mass of mud. For twenty one hours we plow wearily ahead before being given a brief rest. We are up again on the march with slower step. I breakfast on an ear of corn picked up from a roadside field, smearing it with black grease from the bottom of my fry pan.
On reaching Columbia, we are assigned rear guard under Forrest and Walthall, who are instructed by Hood to sacrifice every man if necessary to ensure the safety of the retreating Army on the Pike moving south towards the Tennessee River.
Manning trenches half filled with snow and holding the enemy in check for a few days so as to give Hood a fair start in the race, we begin our retreat from this point on Dec. 22nd, and on Christmas eve wound up near Pulaski, Tenn.
Coiled up in a blanket on the cold, bare ground, no visions of Santa Claus, nor hopes of a Christmas menu on the morrow brighten our dreams.
Early Christmas morn we are gathered around the camp fire awaiting orders to march. Frank Stone, tall and thin, so thin that Charlie Goetchus had advised him to always present his side view to the enemy, as a minie ball would never reach his anatomy in that position, ambles up on a horse he secured from the cavalry. Frank had manfully tried to keep up with the procession. Half sick, his shoes worn soleless, his feet lacerated and bleeding, he had marched when every step was agony, and crawled on hands and knees until human nature could endure no more.
Fortunately, one of Forrest's cavalry had a spare horse that saved him from a Northern prison and sure death. Frank had no saddle and to supply that need the boys had piled his steed with blankets to a depth of five or six inches. As he rode up, his eye fell on a lot of cooking utensils that had to be left for lack of transportation.
Turning to Will Daniels he said, "Lieutenant, hadn't I better take along some of these?" Gen. Forrest, standing a few feet away unobserved, grave and silent, now announces himself with a blistering retort to Frank's innocent question, "I think you've got a damned sight more now than you're entitled to." Frank, stunned by the General's sharp words, made no reply and that was the end of that.
The bugle sounds and we are on the march again. About midday we halt at the summit of a ridge with an old line of breastworks skirting its crest. We are told "Fall In!" The ranks are hastily formed, the trenches manned and Morton's battery is planted a short distance from us. Our Regiment is placed as support for the battery and, as we make ready, Gen. Forrest passes in front of us, in a half bent position. Reaching the trenches, he watches the advance of the enemy carefully and hurries to the rear.
In a moment we hear the clatter of horse's hooves and the "Wizard of the Saddle" dashes by at half speed, riding magnificently, his martial figure as straight as an arrow, a very God of War, yelling as he reaches the waiting ranks, "Charge!"
Over the breastworks flashes a line of grey and down the slope they sweep, the "Rebel Yell" heard at every step.
The Captain commanding our Regiment is undecided as to his duty, but finally orders us to retain our position guarding the battery. Just then, Gen. Featherston rides up,
"What Regiment is this?"
"63rd Georgia, Sir."
"What are you doing here?"
"Supporting this battery, Sir."
"Battery, the devil. Git over them breastworks and git quick."
We git.
The skirmish is soon over. The Yankees fled, leaving a piece of artillery and a number of horses in our possession. More importantly, our charge stopped the Yankee line of march, for a few hours while they sent out patrols to see if this was the entire Army or just a delaying force.
We hold our position until late in the afternoon when we are relieved by Red Jackson's cavalry. As we are filing off the enemy reappears and the cavalry carbines provide a parting echo. Night comes on and if there ever was a darker or more starless one, I can not place it. Tramping in the cold and mud, companies and regiments are comingled. No one knows where he is supposed to be. Elmore Dunbar was carrying the Regimental colors and but for his occasional whistling imitation of the bugle call, our Regiment would have been lost in the darkness.
I can not conceive how a larger share of unadulterated physical discomfort could have been compressed into that Christmas night. No Christmas has passed since that I have not thought of it, often with tears in my eyes. Of all the Christmas days that have come to me in this life, only this one stands out in gloomy prominence as utterly wanting in every element of the season's cheer and gladness.
Yet, looking backward through the mists of more than thirty years now, recalling its dangers and discomforts, its toil, weariness and hunger, I would not, if I could blot that day's record from the memory, for o'er its somber shadows fell and falls today, the light that comes to every true heart in the path of duty.
[Under the Stars and Bars or, Memories of Four Years Service with the Oglethorpes of Augusta, Georgia by Walter A. Clarke. Published by Chronicle Publishing Co., 1900.]
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REV. THOMAS WILLIAM POWELL, SR. 1839-1887
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Rev. Thomas Wm Powell was born March 23, 1839 in Heard County, Georgia. His obituary in The Christian Index states a birth year of 1838.
The family line of Rev. Powell has been firmly established via DNA testing of Rev. Powell's autosomal and Y-DNA cousins. The Powell family originated in Brunswick Co., VA, migrating to Chatham Co., NC, and into Clarke, Fayette and Heard Co.s, Georgia, the latter county being Rev. Powell's place of birth.
At the beginning of the Civil War, Rev. Powell enlisted in Co. I, 63rd Georgia Infantry in Dec 1862 in Bartow Co., GA. This unit was initially stationed at Thunderbolt Battery near Savannah, GA. While stationed at Thunderbolt, Rev. Powell was instrumental in starting the Young Men's Christian Society. He faithfully served with the Regiment throughout the conflict, ministering to the men as Chaplain when needed, and participating in the battles at Fort Wagner, made famous by the movie "Glory", Resaca, Kennesaw, where the 63rd Georgia was cited for gallantry, Atlanta, Spring Hill, Franklin, Nashville, the delaying action at Anthony's Hill under Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest over Christmas 1864, the skirmishes in South Carolina and the final battle at Bentonville, NC under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston in the fateful Spring of 1865.
Thomas Powell received a pardon at the Surrender, Greensboro, NC, 1 May 1865, along with the tattered remnant of the Army of Tennessee, defeated in battle by a foe ten times stronger but unbroken in spirit, with the full knowledge that he served with honor and distinction. The 1891 veteran records of Bartow Co., GA, the parent county of Co. I, 63rd GA corroborates Thomas Powell's service.
T.W. Powell likely chose this Regiment because of it's coastal location and, perhaps, because the company commander of I Co., CPT C.W. Howard, was a minister. As well, and perhaps most importantly, the 63rd enjoyed the protection of Gov. Joseph Brown, who, chaffing at the demand for more Georgia Regiments to be sent to defend Virginia, promised to keep the 63rd on Georgia's native soil.
The 63rd, as a part of Mercer's Brigade, was referred to as the "Silver Spoon Brigade" by the hardened veterans of the Army of Tennessee, when they reported to North Georgia in April, 1864. Orders for the Brigade had been diverted by Gov. Joseph Brown from Virginia to North Georgia. He would not allow the Brigade to leave Georgia and only agreed to let them join Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's command, under the guarantee they stay in Georgia.
The Brigade was dubbed the "Silver Spoon Brigade" because they were unaccustomed to sleeping outdoors. At Thunderbolt Battery, they slept in cabins, received homespun clothes and wares and had a number of accommodations afforded them by their proximity to Savannah.
Mercer's Brigade was commanded by Gen. Hugh Weedon Mercer, whose grandfather was the only U.S. General killed in action in the Revolutionary War. His great grandson was the famous songwriter, Johnny Mercer.
T.W. Powell was one of only 47 men to surrender out of an original Regiment numbering over 1200 effectives. After the Surrender, by dint of sheer will, he walked home from North Carolina.
After the War, T.W. Powell, returned to Ga., removing to Clinch Co. GA, in the Fall of 1867, where he, along with others that he met at Thunderbolt Battery and Savannah, Ga., notably Bro. (later Rev.) John G. Norton, Rev. E.B. Carroll (who commanded a company at Thunderbolt), Rev. R.S. Harvey and Rev. James Williamson, sought to remove the church building at Stockton, Ga. from it's location on the Alapaha River to the city proper. Rev. Powell became Stockton Bapt Church's first minister after the relocation was concluded in the Spring of 1868.
Rev. Powell was likely licensed by Stockton Bapt church sometime between Fall 1867 & Spring 1868, although no such record has been found to that effect. See commentary later regarding Rev. E.B. Carroll, who was also given a license to preach by this Church, unsought.
Rev. Powell's name is not found on the 1867 Oath of Allegiance rolls in Clinch Co., GA. This omission is likely due to the twelve month residency requirement to take the oath.
After toiling in Stockton for some two years, about August or Sept in 1870, Rev. Powell removed to Walker Co., GA, invited by his friends Jesse Mercer Shaw and Glenn Williamson. Mr. Powell served with Mr. Shaw at Thunderbolt Battery. During his early tenure in Walker County, Thomas read law, was a book agent for the National Publishing Co., a wheat farmer on Henry Hovis' land near Waterville Baptist Church, & a circuit preacher at numerous churches, after his Ordination at Waterville Bapt. Church, as this Christian Index article, x 14 April 1870, relates:
"On the call of the Baptist Church at Waterville, [Walker] County, Ga., the Sabbath, March 20th, Elders [Shattuck], Young, along with the writer, set apart brother T.W. Powell to the full work of the gospel ministry. Elder Shattuck called for the candidate's experience of grace and impressions to the ministry. The writer examined the candidate upon his doctrinal views of theology. Elder Young made the ordaining prayer - [followed by] imposition of hands by the presbytery. The charge was given by the writer, the right hand of fellowship by the presbytery and church. W.T. Russell."
Rev. James Young removed to Arkansas in 1871. In a letter from that year, Allie Whitlow spoke of her regret over not hearing his last sermon at Waterville Bapt Church.
Rev. Powell initially took up quarters in Walker Co. in a room over Spencer Marsh's store in Lafayette, Ga. The fact that Rev. Powell had frequent contact with Miss Tennie Marsh, the daughter of his landlord, elicited mention and some modicum of jealousy by Miss Allie Whitlow in a letter of Sept. 1870.
During this time period, Rev. Powell began his study of law and court procedures under Judge Spencer Marsh and Judge James Bond. This knowledge benefited Rev. Powell greatly later in his life when he fulfilled the duties of Judge in Berrien Co., Ga. A further benefit of Rev. Powell's association with Judge Bond is that he was likely responsible for introducing Rev. Powell to his neice, Miss Allie Whitlow.
After a few months, and perhaps with encouragement from Miss Allie who wanted to see the object of her affection as far away from Miss Tennie as possible, Rev. Powell was able to secure lodging in a log cabin on Cane Creek, on land that he rented from Henry Hovis, an early pioneer of Walker Co. GA. The Heritage of Walker County mentions that Mr. Hovis' "first home, a cabin built of logs obtained by trading with nearby Indians, still stands on what is now known as the Perry farm on Old Trion Highway."
One letter of Rev. Powell dated 1871 mentions "I came home today and found old lady Hovis dead. Spent the remainder of the day working on her coffin." Cane Creek ran near the cabin & Thomas often fished there, as he mentioned in an 1871 letter, "Went fishing for my breakfast but caught nothing, my usual luck."
1870 was a turning point in Thomas' life. Not only was he ordained to his life calling, perhaps as importantly, he met the woman who would be his wife, Albina (Allie) Whitlow, the daughter of Miles Washington Whitlow, the venerable pioneer settler of Cherokee Georgia.
In an 1871 letter, Rev. Powell touchingly recounted the "happy tears shed by the old man" (Mr. Whitlow) when Thomas asked for Allie's hand in marriage. This tender portrayal seems at stark odds with one account that describes Mr. Whitlow as a hardy, industrious pioneer who had to be followed along in the furrow he was plowing if one desired a social confabulation. One pictures the young Parson thusly trying to gain an audience with the old man.
Allie and Thomas pledged their lives to each other in marriage in Oct 1871 at Antioch Church in Walker Co., GA. Jesse Mercer Shaw, who married Allie's cousin, Mary Camp, was Thomas' "Best Man."
Rev. Powell preached, both full charge and as supply pastor, at numerous churches in Northwest Georgia to include: New Hope North, Mount Harmony, Peavine, Woods Station, Waterville, Menlo and Groves Level. As well, he assisted in organizing Peavine Academy during his tenure there.
His travels along the circuit could not but have stirred memory of the Spring of 1864, when the Army of Tennessee was encamped in these environs. Every hollow and cove echoed the stern exhortations of preachers from all quarters who, fearing that the fortunes of the South were waning, descended on the campfires of the Army of Tennessee with the full fury and force of the Almighty. The Army of Tennessee was solemnly called to drink deep from the chalice of courage, to gird themselves to repel the enemy at all costs and for many, to ready their souls for the Judgment Seat of God.
Every veteran knows well the sight, sound or scent that, with only slight evocation, rushes memories forged in battle to fore in advance of gathering thought. Thomas could not have ridden the same paths over which he wearily trudged, under arms, some few years before, from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn as Gen. Walker's foot cavalry, hastily ordered from one Gap to another to repel the invaders, without hearing the accompanying rattle of musketry, the faint bugle call, the long roll attenuated by shot and cannister, and the witching sounds of battle still alive in his mind. Perhaps his sojourn in northwest Georgia, amongst the battle grounds, was his sole venue for securing solace, this side of the grave.
In 1872, at the behest of Rev. E.B. Carroll of Hickory Head Bapt., Quitman, GA, Bro. John G. Norton of Stockton, GA and Rev. Farley Sweat of Savannah, GA, Rev. Powell felt led to return to the fertile missionary fields of South Georgia, moving to Clinch Co., GA where he returned to his old charge at Stockton Baptist Church. Rev. Powell was instrumental in reconstituting Stockton Baptist Church in 1868 - 1870, having superintended the relocation of the church building, board by board, from it's original location at Carter's Bridge on the Alapaha River to the town of Stockton. The same year, Rev. Powell received the call to Macedonia Baptist Church, as well.
By 1880, the Powell family had established on a farm just outside of Nashville, Berrien Co., GA, in order to facilitate Rev. Powell's call to several other churches in the region.
In 1883, Rev. Powell published an article in the Alabama Baptist and the Texas Baptist Standard newspapers entitled "Hindrances Removed", an exhortation to live a triumphant Christian life. He eloquently delivered the keynote address for the Smyrna Baptist Association at Redlands Baptist Church the same year.
In 1885, Rev. Powell was elected Judge, Court of Ordinary, Berrien Co., GA. He held that office until his untimely death from tuberculosis in 1887.
Thomas Powell suffered his afflictions with courage. In a 1884 letter from his wife Allie to her parents in Walker Co., GA, she stated that Mr. Powell's health, even then, was such that he could not make the long journey for a family visit.
As the end drew near, Rev. Powell's faith increased. The writer of his obituary in The Christian Index stated, "He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and daily conversations to teach the people how they should live but that the balance of his life he expected to devote in teaching them how to die."
Rev. Powell died in his home, attended by caring neighbors, his faithful wife Allie Whitlow Powell, and six young children to mourn his death.
The author of Rev. Powell's obituary in the January 6th, 1888 edition of The Christian Index laments his passing thusly:
"In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its ablest self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate, watching and waiting for his beloved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, thy labor is done;
Rest 'til the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory rise."
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Letter from Rev. T.W. Powell's sister-in-law, Nancy Whitlow Williamson of Cedar Bluff, AL, to his wife, Allie Whitlow, acknowledging Rev. Powell's death:
"Cedar Bluff, Ala.
Sat., Septem. 3rd, 1887
My dear Sister Bina,
Oh! Sister, our hearts are struck with grief to learn that Bro. Powell is no longer of this world. Although we long knew the gravity of his affliction, a person is never ready for such sad news. I prayed for so long that God would spare him, if only for your sake. But, alas! He knows best. Bro. Powell truly was the angel sent by God to live amongst us. Oh, Bina, why are we cursed with sickness and death? There has been aplenty of it in our country & too back in the Cove. Why must this be? We can only hope to gather where no tear is shed. I can still hear Bro. Powell's sweet voice ringing out. I dreamt of you and he coming up the road laughing and waving not a night before your letter & now I weep to think he is no more. We must take solace in knowing that he rests in the midst of the heavenly saints. How many times Bro. Powell has preached that & now we must cling to it as truth. I know it is not your nature, Bina, but you must now take concern with your health for the sake of your children. Take your ease if you can, after this long trial. I know nursing Bro. Powell and your baby was about all you can bear. We were making a start to Walker when your black letter of the 25th ult. reached our hand. And so we had the mean task of delivering the news to relations there. We went down to Mercer's and he and Glenn drove on to Burning Bush to tell Bro. Russell as you requested. Cousin Mercer will tell all down at Waterville Sunday next. I am glad you wrote some. You asked what accommodations could be fashioned in Walker if you sold out. Glenn & Mercer & Tobe all said they would come down to move you up if you desire. You only need let them know. I know you have connections there, Bina, but you still have good friends and family amongst us in these mountains. Ma says you are welcome to move up to her old place if it suits you. Bina, the fresh mountain air might revive your spirits. You must be wilting in the heat. This country will be a cool respite for you. Come and let us comfort you, Sister. Tobe will slaughter in a few weeks so the smoke house will be chock full. Suge's kitchen garden has growed the largest tomatos I ever seen. Oh, do come, Bina, if only for a visit. The boys can take care of your affairs there. Ma can not wait to see the red hair on that baby girl. Write and tell us when you will arrive & Glen & I will come up. We send our love and deep sympathy. Do not put this letter down without writing your true Sister back.
I sign myself,
Your devoted sister,
Nanie
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The Alabama Baptist, x 1 Feb 1883:
Hindrances Removed
by Rev. T.W. Powell
What a lesson we have from the faith of the women who went at the early dawn to visit the sepulchre. Genuine love for Christ does not sit down with folded hands and defeated hopes, because of great hindrances. They saw the crucified Savior buried and the great stone rolled to the door. They doubtless knew that a strong guard of Roman soldiers stood to block every visitor. And, yet these women who believed in Jesus as the true Messiah came bearing the spices which they had prepared with as much eagerness and promptness as if no hindrances were in the way.
True Love Begins With Faith
They evidently believed that the hindrances would be removed, though they knew not how. They said as they went, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?" It was not a question as to whether, but how. They had implicit faith that it would be done, though they knew not how, or by whom. Here was faith, when reason failed. They had learned to "trust" where they could not trace. There is no lesson to be learned more needed than that of faith when great hindrances stand in the way. There is a great deal of faith in the world but it is largely the kind of the old market-woman who said she trusted in Providence, until the harness broke. One said, "There is no use to pray for rain as long as the wind is in the north." This aptly describes what passes for Christian faith. We need more of the faith of the women who started while "it was yet dark," toward the stone that was too great for them to move, and in the face of the strong guard, charged, at the peril of their lives, to allow no disciple to visit the tomb. Faith will sometimes question, "Who shall roll us away the stone?" - but will move right on toward opposing guard and closed door.
Faith Rewarded
Is there any more beautiful picture than that which is here given: "The angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it." The affrightened guards stand paralyzed, or flee in terror. The angel beckons the women in, at the open door. What rich reward awaits, always a genuine faith that falters not in the face of great hindrances. Out into the darkness we may go. Opposers hedge our way. A huge hindrance which we cannot move is rolled against the door of our opportunity. Shall we move on bearing the sweet spices of affection and service for our Lord? Oh, my soul, falter not, and thou shall see the good angel of victory seated on hindrance removed. Press out while it is yet dark, toward the sealed stone, in the face of the armed guard. Men vanish; mountains melt away; midnight gives place to the rising sun.
Greatest Hindrances, Best Success
"The stone was rolled away for it was very great." The greatness of the stone is given as reason why it was rolled away. God sent an angel beause their strength was not equal to the task. Faith may make courage, then, just because the hindrances are so far beyond our own power of removing. The greatest anxiety is to be concerning the stones which we, ourselves, can roll away. The angel of the Lord can see to the rest. Genuine love for Christ is prompt in unselfish devotion, bringing early the best offerings. It moves on, in the face of great hindrances and the more insurmountable the difficulty, the greater the assurance that the Lord will provide.
"March on, then, righteous ones,
The sea shall divide,
The pathways made glorious,
With shoutings victorious,
We join in the chorus,
The Lord will provide."
(A copy of this article graciously provided by the Special Collections, Samford University, Birmingham, AL.)
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The Christian Index, x Thursday, 6 Jan 1888:
Obituaries
REV. T. W. POWELL
The subject of this sketch was born somewhere in Georgia, March 28th, 1838, and died August 15th, 1887, near Nashville, Berrien County, Ga., thus passing away after a long protracted illness in his 49th year. He was in the ministry seventeen years, and was unswerving in fulfilling every duty which fell to his part. As a citizen and neighbor, Bro. Powell had few equals and no superiors. His generous nature was ever open to the appeals of charity; in him the widow, orphan and poor ever found a true friend. As a follower of Christ, he ever manifested, by humbleness of heart and gentleness of spirit, the truths he held sacred in his heart, and so often ably preached to others; those were the truths that cheered him in the golden hours of life, and supported and comforted him in the sad hours of his affliction. He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and godly conversations, to teach the people how they should live, but that the balance of this life, he expected to devote in teaching them how to die. During his afflictions, his prayer was that the time might speedily come for his departure from this life. He often told his dear companion that he was ready at any time, and really anxious for it to come.
As the preacher, he ever contended for the faith once delivered to the apostles. He was anxious in spirit, strong in his views, earnest and able in the expositions, and charitable and zealous in his exhortations. In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its able, self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for his end is peace."
Bro. Powell possessed a most excellent spirit. At his house he was hospitable and kind to all. He ruled well, his own home, possessing the love and affections of his noble, unassuming and devoted wife, and bringing his children up with all gravity, thus training them early in the way they should ever walk. In his family, he was the center of all earthly love. He leaves a wife and six children, and a host of friends to mourn his loss.
We miss him; we grieve over our loss, but we know it is his eternal gain. He is not dead, but sleepeth. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate watching and waiting for his loved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, they labor is done;
Rest till the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory arise.
ONE WHO LOVED HIM."
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Rev. Thomas Powell's Christian Journey
The full account of Rev. Powell's conversion to Christianity is, perhaps, lost to the ages. In a letter to Allie Whitlow, T.W. Powell mentioned that his mother [Sarah May Powell] had prayed he would be "spared to be used as a vessel for the Lord." Mrs. Powell clearly was an early influence on Thomas Powell's spiritual calling.
No record has been located for his licensing, which presumably came at Stockton Baptist Church in Clinch Co., GA in 1868, in the same manner as described in the biography of Rev. E.B. Carroll in Biographical Sketches of Prominent Baptists (Campbell, 1905): "When the War ended and he (Rev. Carroll) returned home, he could find no employment but teaching, in which he has been engaged ever since. The church at Stockton, where he was teaching, give him, unsought, a license to preach, and in 1868, he was ordained at Macedonia Church, without having requested it, by a presbytery consisting of Rev.s James Williamson and R.S. Harvey."
The record of ministers at Macedonia includes all of the above men: Rev. Raymond S. Harvey 1862-66, Rev. James W. Williamson 1868-69, Rev. Edwin B. Carroll 1869-72, Rev. T.W. Powell 1872-74.
Rev. E.B. Carroll was instrumental in persuading Rev. Powell to return to South Georgia. He was likely equally influential in dissuading him from moving to Texas, where Allie Whitlow's family had removed to, although Rev. Powell admitted in one letter that an inheritance claim he was seeking in his grandmother's estate [Clarissa Akridge Powell] in 1871 Alabama did not work out in his favor thus limiting the financial resources needed to make the long journey to Texas.
In one report to the Mercer Baptist Assn, Rev. Carroll stated that "We have been blessed to secure the services of Bro. Powell, who has agreed to return to his post at Stockton." One letter among several that Rev. Powell wrote in 1872 was postmarked from Quitman, Ga., the location of Hickory Head Bapt, where Rev. Carroll preached. Although not mentioned in his letters, one can assume Rev. Powell visited with Rev. Carroll in Quitman for a short period of time on his way to look for a homestead in Clinch Co., since Quitman seems to be somewhat out of the course of travel from NW Ga. to Stockton, Ga.
Rev. Carroll was stationed at Savannah during the War, the same as Rev. Powell. He, like Rev. Powell, had Tarheel roots, having been born in North Carolina in 1842 before removing to Clinch Co., GA with his father's family in 1849. The influence of Rev. Carroll, Rev. Farley Sweat, who preached at Thunderbolt Battery where T.W. Powell was stationed (from letters at Georgia Archives written by a member of the 63rd GA Regiment), and Bro. John G. Norton, from an old Savannah family, can not be understated.
Rev. Powell's ordination occurred at Waterville Baptist Church, Walker Co., GA in March 1870, as previously noted in The Christian Index article.
Thomas Powell was clearly active in the ministry at Thunderbolt Battery in the early years of the War, so it would be safe to assume that his conversion came before his military service commenced in 1862. Although, given the hardships and danger of war, his tenure with the 63rd Georgia Infantry might well have been his "road to Damascus", serving, perhaps to convert, but more certainly to strengthen his faith, as was so with one of his 63rd Georgia Regiment comrades, in the story recounted below from the Confederate Veteran magazine:
"During the skirmish or battle, between the picket lines of the 18th of June, 1864, in the campaign about Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., Evan Harvey Lawrence, a member of the 63rd Georgia Regiment, carried in his left breast pocket a Bible. A minie-ball struck him, and but for this book over his heart, the young soldier would have been killed. It seems that the Bible had been given to him by his friend, Col. John Q. Adams, of the 63rd Regiment, and after getting in communication with Colonel Adams some years after the War, Mr. Lawrence wrote: "I thought you dead long ago, or would have hunted you up, but, living or dead, I've thought of you for twenty years. Do you remember the Bible you gave me just to fit my side breast pocket? It went through many battles with me, but at Kennesaw Mountain, that Bible saved my life. A bullet hit me in the left side, going through my coat and shirt, then into the Bible, stopping at the fifty-second chapter of Isaiah, seventh verse. I still have the Book, with the ball resting where it stopped. And so, God bless you, old friend, now and forevermore."
Evan Harvey Lawrence, like Thomas Wm Powell, entered the ministry of the Baptist faith after the War, and his first sermon was preached from the text showing the last break made by the minie-ball, that on which it's point rested.
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Thomas Powell's Christmas, 1864:
[Extract from Under the Stars and Bars, by Walter A. Clark, 63rd Georgia Regiment, CSA]
A Christmas Day With Forrest
It was the winter of '64 and to those of us who wore the grey, it was likewise the "winter of our discontent." The hopes of the Confederacy were on the wane. The clouds above it had no silver lining, free or otherwise. Sherman was "marching through Georgia," leaving in his wake the ashes of many a Southern home. Hood's reckless raid on Nashville had ended in disaster and his ragged battalions were making tracks for the Tennessee River, some of them barefeet, at a quickstep known to the Confederate tacticians as "double distance on half rations."
The [63rd] had fortunately escaped the butchery at Franklin against which Forrest had so strongly protested. As this immunity was due to our having been detained with Smith's Brigade to ferry a salt train across the Tennessee River, salt had literally "saved our bacon."
After rejoining the Army, we had been again detached to operate under Gen. Forrest near Murfreesboro and, in this way, had missed the rout at Nashville. Aside from these immunities, the campaign had been one of exceptional hardships. The weather was bitterly cold and our wardrobes were sparse. The writer wore a thread bare thin fatigue jacket, with no overcoat and slept under a single blanket with the thermometer at nine degrees above zero. For a week prior to the retreat, we had been engaged in the pleasant pastime of handling, with ungloved hands, railroad ties and rails encased in sleet and snow. And yet I can not recall a single complaint. It is my deliberate conviction, based upon this and similar evidence, that the Confederate soldier fought harder on shorter rations and grumbled less under greater privations than any soldier in history.
The battle of Nashville began on the morning of Dec. 15th, and for two days, thirty miles away, we listened to the thunder of artillery and anxiously awaited the issue.
At 1 a.m. Dec. 17th, we were aroused to begin the longest, hardest forced march of our four years' service. Columbia, the point of junction with Hood's retreating Army, is sixty miles away and we have to make it in forty-eight hours or risk almost certain capture by a force ten times our own. It is cold, dark and raining - a dreary combination. The roads are a mass of mud. For twenty one hours we plow wearily ahead before being given a brief rest. We are up again on the march with slower step. I breakfast on an ear of corn picked up from a roadside field, smearing it with black grease from the bottom of my fry pan.
On reaching Columbia, we are assigned rear guard under Forrest and Walthall, who are instructed by Hood to sacrifice every man if necessary to ensure the safety of the retreating Army on the Pike moving south towards the Tennessee River.
Manning trenches half filled with snow and holding the enemy in check for a few days so as to give Hood a fair start in the race, we begin our retreat from this point on Dec. 22nd, and on Christmas eve wound up near Pulaski, Tenn.
Coiled up in a blanket on the cold, bare ground, no visions of Santa Claus, nor hopes of a Christmas menu on the morrow brighten our dreams.
Early Christmas morn we are gathered around the camp fire awaiting orders to march. Frank Stone, tall and thin, so thin that Charlie Goetchus had advised him to always present his side view to the enemy, as a minie ball would never reach his anatomy in that position, ambles up on a horse he secured from the cavalry. Frank had manfully tried to keep up with the procession. Half sick, his shoes worn soleless, his feet lacerated and bleeding, he had marched when every step was agony, and crawled on hands and knees until human nature could endure no more.
Fortunately, one of Forrest's cavalry had a spare horse that saved him from a Northern prison and sure death. Frank had no saddle and to supply that need the boys had piled his steed with blankets to a depth of five or six inches. As he rode up, his eye fell on a lot of cooking utensils that had to be left for lack of transportation.
Turning to Will Daniels he said, "Lieutenant, hadn't I better take along some of these?" Gen. Forrest, standing a few feet away unobserved, grave and silent, now announces himself with a blistering retort to Frank's innocent question, "I think you've got a damned sight more now than you're entitled to." Frank, stunned by the General's sharp words, made no reply and that was the end of that.
The bugle sounds and we are on the march again. About midday we halt at the summit of a ridge with an old line of breastworks skirting its crest. We are told "Fall In!" The ranks are hastily formed, the trenches manned and Morton's battery is planted a short distance from us. Our Regiment is placed as support for the battery and, as we make ready, Gen. Forrest passes in front of us, in a half bent position. Reaching the trenches, he watches the advance of the enemy carefully and hurries to the rear.
In a moment we hear the clatter of horse's hooves and the "Wizard of the Saddle" dashes by at half speed, riding magnificently, his martial figure as straight as an arrow, a very God of War, yelling as he reaches the waiting ranks, "Charge!"
Over the breastworks flashes a line of grey and down the slope they sweep, the "Rebel Yell" heard at every step.
The Captain commanding our Regiment is undecided as to his duty, but finally orders us to retain our position guarding the battery. Just then, Gen. Featherston rides up,
"What Regiment is this?"
"63rd Georgia, Sir."
"What are you doing here?"
"Supporting this battery, Sir."
"Battery, the devil. Git over them breastworks and git quick."
We git.
The skirmish is soon over. The Yankees fled, leaving a piece of artillery and a number of horses in our possession. More importantly, our charge stopped the Yankee line of march, for a few hours while they sent out patrols to see if this was the entire Army or just a delaying force.
We hold our position until late in the afternoon when we are relieved by Red Jackson's cavalry. As we are filing off the enemy reappears and the cavalry carbines provide a parting echo. Night comes on and if there ever was a darker or more starless one, I can not place it. Tramping in the cold and mud, companies and regiments are comingled. No one knows where he is supposed to be. Elmore Dunbar was carrying the Regimental colors and but for his occasional whistling imitation of the bugle call, our Regiment would have been lost in the darkness.
I can not conceive how a larger share of unadulterated physical discomfort could have been compressed into that Christmas night. No Christmas has passed since that I have not thought of it, often with tears in my eyes. Of all the Christmas days that have come to me in this life, only this one stands out in gloomy prominence as utterly wanting in every element of the season's cheer and gladness.
Yet, looking backward through the mists of more than thirty years now, recalling its dangers and discomforts, its toil, weariness and hunger, I would not, if I could blot that day's record from the memory, for o'er its somber shadows fell and falls today, the light that comes to every true heart in the path of duty.
[Under the Stars and Bars or, Memories of Four Years Service with the Oglethorpes of Augusta, Georgia by Walter A. Clarke. Published by Chronicle Publishing Co., 1900.]
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Rev. Thomas Wm Powell was born March 23, 1839 in Heard County, Georgia. His obituary in The Christian Index states a birth year of 1838.
The family line of Rev. Powell has been firmly established via DNA testing of Rev. Powell's autosomal and Y-DNA cousins. The Powell family originated in Brunswick Co., VA, migrating to Chatham Co., NC, and into Clarke, Fayette and Heard Co.s, Georgia, the latter county being Rev. Powell's place of birth.
At the beginning of the Civil War, Rev. Powell enlisted in Co. I, 63rd Georgia Infantry in Dec 1862 in Bartow Co., GA. This unit was initially stationed at Thunderbolt Battery near Savannah, GA. While stationed at Thunderbolt, Rev. Powell was instrumental in starting the Young Men's Christian Society. He faithfully served with the Regiment throughout the conflict, ministering to the men as Chaplain when needed, and participating in the battles at Fort Wagner, made famous by the movie "Glory", Resaca, Kennesaw, where the 63rd Georgia was cited for gallantry, Atlanta, Spring Hill, Franklin, Nashville, the delaying action at Anthony's Hill under Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest over Christmas 1864, the skirmishes in South Carolina and the final battle at Bentonville, NC under Gen. Joseph E. Johnston in the fateful Spring of 1865.
Thomas Powell received a pardon at the Surrender, Greensboro, NC, 1 May 1865, along with the tattered remnant of the Army of Tennessee, defeated in battle by a foe ten times stronger but unbroken in spirit, with the full knowledge that he served with honor and distinction. The 1891 veteran records of Bartow Co., GA, the parent county of Co. I, 63rd GA corroborates Thomas Powell's service.
T.W. Powell likely chose this Regiment because of it's coastal location and, perhaps, because the company commander of I Co., CPT C.W. Howard, was a minister. As well, and perhaps most importantly, the 63rd enjoyed the protection of Gov. Joseph Brown, who, chaffing at the demand for more Georgia Regiments to be sent to defend Virginia, promised to keep the 63rd on Georgia's native soil.
The 63rd, as a part of Mercer's Brigade, was referred to as the "Silver Spoon Brigade" by the hardened veterans of the Army of Tennessee, when they reported to North Georgia in April, 1864. Orders for the Brigade had been diverted by Gov. Joseph Brown from Virginia to North Georgia. He would not allow the Brigade to leave Georgia and only agreed to let them join Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's command, under the guarantee they stay in Georgia.
The Brigade was dubbed the "Silver Spoon Brigade" because they were unaccustomed to sleeping outdoors. At Thunderbolt Battery, they slept in cabins, received homespun clothes and wares and had a number of accommodations afforded them by their proximity to Savannah.
Mercer's Brigade was commanded by Gen. Hugh Weedon Mercer, whose grandfather was the only U.S. General killed in action in the Revolutionary War. His great grandson was the famous songwriter, Johnny Mercer.
T.W. Powell was one of only 47 men to surrender out of an original Regiment numbering over 1200 effectives. After the Surrender, by dint of sheer will, he walked home from North Carolina.
After the War, T.W. Powell, returned to Ga., removing to Clinch Co. GA, in the Fall of 1867, where he, along with others that he met at Thunderbolt Battery and Savannah, Ga., notably Bro. (later Rev.) John G. Norton, Rev. E.B. Carroll (who commanded a company at Thunderbolt), Rev. R.S. Harvey and Rev. James Williamson, sought to remove the church building at Stockton, Ga. from it's location on the Alapaha River to the city proper. Rev. Powell became Stockton Bapt Church's first minister after the relocation was concluded in the Spring of 1868.
Rev. Powell was likely licensed by Stockton Bapt church sometime between Fall 1867 & Spring 1868, although no such record has been found to that effect. See commentary later regarding Rev. E.B. Carroll, who was also given a license to preach by this Church, unsought.
Rev. Powell's name is not found on the 1867 Oath of Allegiance rolls in Clinch Co., GA. This omission is likely due to the twelve month residency requirement to take the oath.
After toiling in Stockton for some two years, about August or Sept in 1870, Rev. Powell removed to Walker Co., GA, invited by his friends Jesse Mercer Shaw and Glenn Williamson. Mr. Powell served with Mr. Shaw at Thunderbolt Battery. During his early tenure in Walker County, Thomas read law, was a book agent for the National Publishing Co., a wheat farmer on Henry Hovis' land near Waterville Baptist Church, & a circuit preacher at numerous churches, after his Ordination at Waterville Bapt. Church, as this Christian Index article, x 14 April 1870, relates:
"On the call of the Baptist Church at Waterville, [Walker] County, Ga., the Sabbath, March 20th, Elders [Shattuck], Young, along with the writer, set apart brother T.W. Powell to the full work of the gospel ministry. Elder Shattuck called for the candidate's experience of grace and impressions to the ministry. The writer examined the candidate upon his doctrinal views of theology. Elder Young made the ordaining prayer - [followed by] imposition of hands by the presbytery. The charge was given by the writer, the right hand of fellowship by the presbytery and church. W.T. Russell."
Rev. James Young removed to Arkansas in 1871. In a letter from that year, Allie Whitlow spoke of her regret over not hearing his last sermon at Waterville Bapt Church.
Rev. Powell initially took up quarters in Walker Co. in a room over Spencer Marsh's store in Lafayette, Ga. The fact that Rev. Powell had frequent contact with Miss Tennie Marsh, the daughter of his landlord, elicited mention and some modicum of jealousy by Miss Allie Whitlow in a letter of Sept. 1870.
During this time period, Rev. Powell began his study of law and court procedures under Judge Spencer Marsh and Judge James Bond. This knowledge benefited Rev. Powell greatly later in his life when he fulfilled the duties of Judge in Berrien Co., Ga. A further benefit of Rev. Powell's association with Judge Bond is that he was likely responsible for introducing Rev. Powell to his neice, Miss Allie Whitlow.
After a few months, and perhaps with encouragement from Miss Allie who wanted to see the object of her affection as far away from Miss Tennie as possible, Rev. Powell was able to secure lodging in a log cabin on Cane Creek, on land that he rented from Henry Hovis, an early pioneer of Walker Co. GA. The Heritage of Walker County mentions that Mr. Hovis' "first home, a cabin built of logs obtained by trading with nearby Indians, still stands on what is now known as the Perry farm on Old Trion Highway."
One letter of Rev. Powell dated 1871 mentions "I came home today and found old lady Hovis dead. Spent the remainder of the day working on her coffin." Cane Creek ran near the cabin & Thomas often fished there, as he mentioned in an 1871 letter, "Went fishing for my breakfast but caught nothing, my usual luck."
1870 was a turning point in Thomas' life. Not only was he ordained to his life calling, perhaps as importantly, he met the woman who would be his wife, Albina (Allie) Whitlow, the daughter of Miles Washington Whitlow, the venerable pioneer settler of Cherokee Georgia.
In an 1871 letter, Rev. Powell touchingly recounted the "happy tears shed by the old man" (Mr. Whitlow) when Thomas asked for Allie's hand in marriage. This tender portrayal seems at stark odds with one account that describes Mr. Whitlow as a hardy, industrious pioneer who had to be followed along in the furrow he was plowing if one desired a social confabulation. One pictures the young Parson thusly trying to gain an audience with the old man.
Allie and Thomas pledged their lives to each other in marriage in Oct 1871 at Antioch Church in Walker Co., GA. Jesse Mercer Shaw, who married Allie's cousin, Mary Camp, was Thomas' "Best Man."
Rev. Powell preached, both full charge and as supply pastor, at numerous churches in Northwest Georgia to include: New Hope North, Mount Harmony, Peavine, Woods Station, Waterville, Menlo and Groves Level. As well, he assisted in organizing Peavine Academy during his tenure there.
His travels along the circuit could not but have stirred memory of the Spring of 1864, when the Army of Tennessee was encamped in these environs. Every hollow and cove echoed the stern exhortations of preachers from all quarters who, fearing that the fortunes of the South were waning, descended on the campfires of the Army of Tennessee with the full fury and force of the Almighty. The Army of Tennessee was solemnly called to drink deep from the chalice of courage, to gird themselves to repel the enemy at all costs and for many, to ready their souls for the Judgment Seat of God.
Every veteran knows well the sight, sound or scent that, with only slight evocation, rushes memories forged in battle to fore in advance of gathering thought. Thomas could not have ridden the same paths over which he wearily trudged, under arms, some few years before, from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn as Gen. Walker's foot cavalry, hastily ordered from one Gap to another to repel the invaders, without hearing the accompanying rattle of musketry, the faint bugle call, the long roll attenuated by shot and cannister, and the witching sounds of battle still alive in his mind. Perhaps his sojourn in northwest Georgia, amongst the battle grounds, was his sole venue for securing solace, this side of the grave.
In 1872, at the behest of Rev. E.B. Carroll of Hickory Head Bapt., Quitman, GA, Bro. John G. Norton of Stockton, GA and Rev. Farley Sweat of Savannah, GA, Rev. Powell felt led to return to the fertile missionary fields of South Georgia, moving to Clinch Co., GA where he returned to his old charge at Stockton Baptist Church. Rev. Powell was instrumental in reconstituting Stockton Baptist Church in 1868 - 1870, having superintended the relocation of the church building, board by board, from it's original location at Carter's Bridge on the Alapaha River to the town of Stockton. The same year, Rev. Powell received the call to Macedonia Baptist Church, as well.
By 1880, the Powell family had established on a farm just outside of Nashville, Berrien Co., GA, in order to facilitate Rev. Powell's call to several other churches in the region.
In 1883, Rev. Powell published an article in the Alabama Baptist and the Texas Baptist Standard newspapers entitled "Hindrances Removed", an exhortation to live a triumphant Christian life. He eloquently delivered the keynote address for the Smyrna Baptist Association at Redlands Baptist Church the same year.
In 1885, Rev. Powell was elected Judge, Court of Ordinary, Berrien Co., GA. He held that office until his untimely death from tuberculosis in 1887.
Thomas Powell suffered his afflictions with courage. In a 1884 letter from his wife Allie to her parents in Walker Co., GA, she stated that Mr. Powell's health, even then, was such that he could not make the long journey for a family visit.
As the end drew near, Rev. Powell's faith increased. The writer of his obituary in The Christian Index stated, "He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and daily conversations to teach the people how they should live but that the balance of his life he expected to devote in teaching them how to die."
Rev. Powell died in his home, attended by caring neighbors, his faithful wife Allie Whitlow Powell, and six young children to mourn his death.
The author of Rev. Powell's obituary in the January 6th, 1888 edition of The Christian Index laments his passing thusly:
"In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its ablest self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate, watching and waiting for his beloved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, thy labor is done;
Rest 'til the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory rise."
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Letter from Rev. T.W. Powell's sister-in-law, Nancy Whitlow Williamson of Cedar Bluff, AL, to his wife, Allie Whitlow, acknowledging Rev. Powell's death:
"Cedar Bluff, Ala.
Sat., Septem. 3rd, 1887
My dear Sister Bina,
Oh! Sister, our hearts are struck with grief to learn that Bro. Powell is no longer of this world. Although we long knew the gravity of his affliction, a person is never ready for such sad news. I prayed for so long that God would spare him, if only for your sake. But, alas! He knows best. Bro. Powell truly was the angel sent by God to live amongst us. Oh, Bina, why are we cursed with sickness and death? There has been aplenty of it in our country & too back in the Cove. Why must this be? We can only hope to gather where no tear is shed. I can still hear Bro. Powell's sweet voice ringing out. I dreamt of you and he coming up the road laughing and waving not a night before your letter & now I weep to think he is no more. We must take solace in knowing that he rests in the midst of the heavenly saints. How many times Bro. Powell has preached that & now we must cling to it as truth. I know it is not your nature, Bina, but you must now take concern with your health for the sake of your children. Take your ease if you can, after this long trial. I know nursing Bro. Powell and your baby was about all you can bear. We were making a start to Walker when your black letter of the 25th ult. reached our hand. And so we had the mean task of delivering the news to relations there. We went down to Mercer's and he and Glenn drove on to Burning Bush to tell Bro. Russell as you requested. Cousin Mercer will tell all down at Waterville Sunday next. I am glad you wrote some. You asked what accommodations could be fashioned in Walker if you sold out. Glenn & Mercer & Tobe all said they would come down to move you up if you desire. You only need let them know. I know you have connections there, Bina, but you still have good friends and family amongst us in these mountains. Ma says you are welcome to move up to her old place if it suits you. Bina, the fresh mountain air might revive your spirits. You must be wilting in the heat. This country will be a cool respite for you. Come and let us comfort you, Sister. Tobe will slaughter in a few weeks so the smoke house will be chock full. Suge's kitchen garden has growed the largest tomatos I ever seen. Oh, do come, Bina, if only for a visit. The boys can take care of your affairs there. Ma can not wait to see the red hair on that baby girl. Write and tell us when you will arrive & Glen & I will come up. We send our love and deep sympathy. Do not put this letter down without writing your true Sister back.
I sign myself,
Your devoted sister,
Nanie
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The Alabama Baptist, x 1 Feb 1883:
Hindrances Removed
by Rev. T.W. Powell
What a lesson we have from the faith of the women who went at the early dawn to visit the sepulchre. Genuine love for Christ does not sit down with folded hands and defeated hopes, because of great hindrances. They saw the crucified Savior buried and the great stone rolled to the door. They doubtless knew that a strong guard of Roman soldiers stood to block every visitor. And, yet these women who believed in Jesus as the true Messiah came bearing the spices which they had prepared with as much eagerness and promptness as if no hindrances were in the way.
True Love Begins With Faith
They evidently believed that the hindrances would be removed, though they knew not how. They said as they went, "Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?" It was not a question as to whether, but how. They had implicit faith that it would be done, though they knew not how, or by whom. Here was faith, when reason failed. They had learned to "trust" where they could not trace. There is no lesson to be learned more needed than that of faith when great hindrances stand in the way. There is a great deal of faith in the world but it is largely the kind of the old market-woman who said she trusted in Providence, until the harness broke. One said, "There is no use to pray for rain as long as the wind is in the north." This aptly describes what passes for Christian faith. We need more of the faith of the women who started while "it was yet dark," toward the stone that was too great for them to move, and in the face of the strong guard, charged, at the peril of their lives, to allow no disciple to visit the tomb. Faith will sometimes question, "Who shall roll us away the stone?" - but will move right on toward opposing guard and closed door.
Faith Rewarded
Is there any more beautiful picture than that which is here given: "The angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone from the door and sat upon it." The affrightened guards stand paralyzed, or flee in terror. The angel beckons the women in, at the open door. What rich reward awaits, always a genuine faith that falters not in the face of great hindrances. Out into the darkness we may go. Opposers hedge our way. A huge hindrance which we cannot move is rolled against the door of our opportunity. Shall we move on bearing the sweet spices of affection and service for our Lord? Oh, my soul, falter not, and thou shall see the good angel of victory seated on hindrance removed. Press out while it is yet dark, toward the sealed stone, in the face of the armed guard. Men vanish; mountains melt away; midnight gives place to the rising sun.
Greatest Hindrances, Best Success
"The stone was rolled away for it was very great." The greatness of the stone is given as reason why it was rolled away. God sent an angel beause their strength was not equal to the task. Faith may make courage, then, just because the hindrances are so far beyond our own power of removing. The greatest anxiety is to be concerning the stones which we, ourselves, can roll away. The angel of the Lord can see to the rest. Genuine love for Christ is prompt in unselfish devotion, bringing early the best offerings. It moves on, in the face of great hindrances and the more insurmountable the difficulty, the greater the assurance that the Lord will provide.
"March on, then, righteous ones,
The sea shall divide,
The pathways made glorious,
With shoutings victorious,
We join in the chorus,
The Lord will provide."
(A copy of this article graciously provided by the Special Collections, Samford University, Birmingham, AL.)
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The Christian Index, x Thursday, 6 Jan 1888:
Obituaries
REV. T. W. POWELL
The subject of this sketch was born somewhere in Georgia, March 28th, 1838, and died August 15th, 1887, near Nashville, Berrien County, Ga., thus passing away after a long protracted illness in his 49th year. He was in the ministry seventeen years, and was unswerving in fulfilling every duty which fell to his part. As a citizen and neighbor, Bro. Powell had few equals and no superiors. His generous nature was ever open to the appeals of charity; in him the widow, orphan and poor ever found a true friend. As a follower of Christ, he ever manifested, by humbleness of heart and gentleness of spirit, the truths he held sacred in his heart, and so often ably preached to others; those were the truths that cheered him in the golden hours of life, and supported and comforted him in the sad hours of his affliction. He was heard by the writer to say that he had been laboring up to that time by his precepts, Christian walk and godly conversations, to teach the people how they should live, but that the balance of this life, he expected to devote in teaching them how to die. During his afflictions, his prayer was that the time might speedily come for his departure from this life. He often told his dear companion that he was ready at any time, and really anxious for it to come.
As the preacher, he ever contended for the faith once delivered to the apostles. He was anxious in spirit, strong in his views, earnest and able in the expositions, and charitable and zealous in his exhortations. In the death of Bro. Powell, the ministry has lost one of its able, self-sacrificing devotaries, the church an efficient member, and the community a bright and shining light. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for his end is peace."
Bro. Powell possessed a most excellent spirit. At his house he was hospitable and kind to all. He ruled well, his own home, possessing the love and affections of his noble, unassuming and devoted wife, and bringing his children up with all gravity, thus training them early in the way they should ever walk. In his family, he was the center of all earthly love. He leaves a wife and six children, and a host of friends to mourn his loss.
We miss him; we grieve over our loss, but we know it is his eternal gain. He is not dead, but sleepeth. He has passed over the other side, and stands at the beautiful gate watching and waiting for his loved ones.
Quietly sleep, beloved one,
Rest from thy toil, they labor is done;
Rest till the trump from the opening skies
Bid thou from dust to glory arise.
ONE WHO LOVED HIM."
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Rev. Thomas Powell's Christian Journey
The full account of Rev. Powell's conversion to Christianity is, perhaps, lost to the ages. In a letter to Allie Whitlow, T.W. Powell mentioned that his mother [Sarah May Powell] had prayed he would be "spared to be used as a vessel for the Lord." Mrs. Powell clearly was an early influence on Thomas Powell's spiritual calling.
No record has been located for his licensing, which presumably came at Stockton Baptist Church in Clinch Co., GA in 1868, in the same manner as described in the biography of Rev. E.B. Carroll in Biographical Sketches of Prominent Baptists (Campbell, 1905): "When the War ended and he (Rev. Carroll) returned home, he could find no employment but teaching, in which he has been engaged ever since. The church at Stockton, where he was teaching, give him, unsought, a license to preach, and in 1868, he was ordained at Macedonia Church, without having requested it, by a presbytery consisting of Rev.s James Williamson and R.S. Harvey."
The record of ministers at Macedonia includes all of the above men: Rev. Raymond S. Harvey 1862-66, Rev. James W. Williamson 1868-69, Rev. Edwin B. Carroll 1869-72, Rev. T.W. Powell 1872-74.
Rev. E.B. Carroll was instrumental in persuading Rev. Powell to return to South Georgia. He was likely equally influential in dissuading him from moving to Texas, where Allie Whitlow's family had removed to, although Rev. Powell admitted in one letter that an inheritance claim he was seeking in his grandmother's estate [Clarissa Akridge Powell] in 1871 Alabama did not work out in his favor thus limiting the financial resources needed to make the long journey to Texas.
In one report to the Mercer Baptist Assn, Rev. Carroll stated that "We have been blessed to secure the services of Bro. Powell, who has agreed to return to his post at Stockton." One letter among several that Rev. Powell wrote in 1872 was postmarked from Quitman, Ga., the location of Hickory Head Bapt, where Rev. Carroll preached. Although not mentioned in his letters, one can assume Rev. Powell visited with Rev. Carroll in Quitman for a short period of time on his way to look for a homestead in Clinch Co., since Quitman seems to be somewhat out of the course of travel from NW Ga. to Stockton, Ga.
Rev. Carroll was stationed at Savannah during the War, the same as Rev. Powell. He, like Rev. Powell, had Tarheel roots, having been born in North Carolina in 1842 before removing to Clinch Co., GA with his father's family in 1849. The influence of Rev. Carroll, Rev. Farley Sweat, who preached at Thunderbolt Battery where T.W. Powell was stationed (from letters at Georgia Archives written by a member of the 63rd GA Regiment), and Bro. John G. Norton, from an old Savannah family, can not be understated.
Rev. Powell's ordination occurred at Waterville Baptist Church, Walker Co., GA in March 1870, as previously noted in The Christian Index article.
Thomas Powell was clearly active in the ministry at Thunderbolt Battery in the early years of the War, so it would be safe to assume that his conversion came before his military service commenced in 1862. Although, given the hardships and danger of war, his tenure with the 63rd Georgia Infantry might well have been his "road to Damascus", serving, perhaps to convert, but more certainly to strengthen his faith, as was so with one of his 63rd Georgia Regiment comrades, in the story recounted below from the Confederate Veteran magazine:
"During the skirmish or battle, between the picket lines of the 18th of June, 1864, in the campaign about Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., Evan Harvey Lawrence, a member of the 63rd Georgia Regiment, carried in his left breast pocket a Bible. A minie-ball struck him, and but for this book over his heart, the young soldier would have been killed. It seems that the Bible had been given to him by his friend, Col. John Q. Adams, of the 63rd Regiment, and after getting in communication with Colonel Adams some years after the War, Mr. Lawrence wrote: "I thought you dead long ago, or would have hunted you up, but, living or dead, I've thought of you for twenty years. Do you remember the Bible you gave me just to fit my side breast pocket? It went through many battles with me, but at Kennesaw Mountain, that Bible saved my life. A bullet hit me in the left side, going through my coat and shirt, then into the Bible, stopping at the fifty-second chapter of Isaiah, seventh verse. I still have the Book, with the ball resting where it stopped. And so, God bless you, old friend, now and forevermore."
Evan Harvey Lawrence, like Thomas Wm Powell, entered the ministry of the Baptist faith after the War, and his first sermon was preached from the text showing the last break made by the minie-ball, that on which it's point rested.
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Thomas Powell's Christmas, 1864:
[Extract from Under the Stars and Bars, by Walter A. Clark, 63rd Georgia Regiment, CSA]
A Christmas Day With Forrest
It was the winter of '64 and to those of us who wore the grey, it was likewise the "winter of our discontent." The hopes of the Confederacy were on the wane. The clouds above it had no silver lining, free or otherwise. Sherman was "marching through Georgia," leaving in his wake the ashes of many a Southern home. Hood's reckless raid on Nashville had ended in disaster and his ragged battalions were making tracks for the Tennessee River, some of them barefeet, at a quickstep known to the Confederate tacticians as "double distance on half rations."
The [63rd] had fortunately escaped the butchery at Franklin against which Forrest had so strongly protested. As this immunity was due to our having been detained with Smith's Brigade to ferry a salt train across the Tennessee River, salt had literally "saved our bacon."
After rejoining the Army, we had been again detached to operate under Gen. Forrest near Murfreesboro and, in this way, had missed the rout at Nashville. Aside from these immunities, the campaign had been one of exceptional hardships. The weather was bitterly cold and our wardrobes were sparse. The writer wore a thread bare thin fatigue jacket, with no overcoat and slept under a single blanket with the thermometer at nine degrees above zero. For a week prior to the retreat, we had been engaged in the pleasant pastime of handling, with ungloved hands, railroad ties and rails encased in sleet and snow. And yet I can not recall a single complaint. It is my deliberate conviction, based upon this and similar evidence, that the Confederate soldier fought harder on shorter rations and grumbled less under greater privations than any soldier in history.
The battle of Nashville began on the morning of Dec. 15th, and for two days, thirty miles away, we listened to the thunder of artillery and anxiously awaited the issue.
At 1 a.m. Dec. 17th, we were aroused to begin the longest, hardest forced march of our four years' service. Columbia, the point of junction with Hood's retreating Army, is sixty miles away and we have to make it in forty-eight hours or risk almost certain capture by a force ten times our own. It is cold, dark and raining - a dreary combination. The roads are a mass of mud. For twenty one hours we plow wearily ahead before being given a brief rest. We are up again on the march with slower step. I breakfast on an ear of corn picked up from a roadside field, smearing it with black grease from the bottom of my fry pan.
On reaching Columbia, we are assigned rear guard under Forrest and Walthall, who are instructed by Hood to sacrifice every man if necessary to ensure the safety of the retreating Army on the Pike moving south towards the Tennessee River.
Manning trenches half filled with snow and holding the enemy in check for a few days so as to give Hood a fair start in the race, we begin our retreat from this point on Dec. 22nd, and on Christmas eve wound up near Pulaski, Tenn.
Coiled up in a blanket on the cold, bare ground, no visions of Santa Claus, nor hopes of a Christmas menu on the morrow brighten our dreams.
Early Christmas morn we are gathered around the camp fire awaiting orders to march. Frank Stone, tall and thin, so thin that Charlie Goetchus had advised him to always present his side view to the enemy, as a minie ball would never reach his anatomy in that position, ambles up on a horse he secured from the cavalry. Frank had manfully tried to keep up with the procession. Half sick, his shoes worn soleless, his feet lacerated and bleeding, he had marched when every step was agony, and crawled on hands and knees until human nature could endure no more.
Fortunately, one of Forrest's cavalry had a spare horse that saved him from a Northern prison and sure death. Frank had no saddle and to supply that need the boys had piled his steed with blankets to a depth of five or six inches. As he rode up, his eye fell on a lot of cooking utensils that had to be left for lack of transportation.
Turning to Will Daniels he said, "Lieutenant, hadn't I better take along some of these?" Gen. Forrest, standing a few feet away unobserved, grave and silent, now announces himself with a blistering retort to Frank's innocent question, "I think you've got a damned sight more now than you're entitled to." Frank, stunned by the General's sharp words, made no reply and that was the end of that.
The bugle sounds and we are on the march again. About midday we halt at the summit of a ridge with an old line of breastworks skirting its crest. We are told "Fall In!" The ranks are hastily formed, the trenches manned and Morton's battery is planted a short distance from us. Our Regiment is placed as support for the battery and, as we make ready, Gen. Forrest passes in front of us, in a half bent position. Reaching the trenches, he watches the advance of the enemy carefully and hurries to the rear.
In a moment we hear the clatter of horse's hooves and the "Wizard of the Saddle" dashes by at half speed, riding magnificently, his martial figure as straight as an arrow, a very God of War, yelling as he reaches the waiting ranks, "Charge!"
Over the breastworks flashes a line of grey and down the slope they sweep, the "Rebel Yell" heard at every step.
The Captain commanding our Regiment is undecided as to his duty, but finally orders us to retain our position guarding the battery. Just then, Gen. Featherston rides up,
"What Regiment is this?"
"63rd Georgia, Sir."
"What are you doing here?"
"Supporting this battery, Sir."
"Battery, the devil. Git over them breastworks and git quick."
We git.
The skirmish is soon over. The Yankees fled, leaving a piece of artillery and a number of horses in our possession. More importantly, our charge stopped the Yankee line of march, for a few hours while they sent out patrols to see if this was the entire Army or just a delaying force.
We hold our position until late in the afternoon when we are relieved by Red Jackson's cavalry. As we are filing off the enemy reappears and the cavalry carbines provide a parting echo. Night comes on and if there ever was a darker or more starless one, I can not place it. Tramping in the cold and mud, companies and regiments are comingled. No one knows where he is supposed to be. Elmore Dunbar was carrying the Regimental colors and but for his occasional whistling imitation of the bugle call, our Regiment would have been lost in the darkness.
I can not conceive how a larger share of unadulterated physical discomfort could have been compressed into that Christmas night. No Christmas has passed since that I have not thought of it, often with tears in my eyes. Of all the Christmas days that have come to me in this life, only this one stands out in gloomy prominence as utterly wanting in every element of the season's cheer and gladness.
Yet, looking backward through the mists of more than thirty years now, recalling its dangers and discomforts, its toil, weariness and hunger, I would not, if I could blot that day's record from the memory, for o'er its somber shadows fell and falls today, the light that comes to every true heart in the path of duty.
[Under the Stars and Bars or, Memories of Four Years Service with the Oglethorpes of Augusta, Georgia by Walter A. Clarke. Published by Chronicle Publishing Co., 1900.]
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