NFEDERATE BIOGRAPHY: PHANTOM HILL - Smith County, TX ***************************************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm Submitted by Doris Peirce - ginlu@home.com 20 October 2001 ***************************************************************** TEXANS WHO WORE THE GRAY by Sid S. Johnson PHANTOM HILL This romantic story, written by some one unknown to the author, presents a story with some truth, but with the appearance of romance. However, it goes into these pages without our full endorsement: "Gen. Robert E. Lee, when commander of the department of Texas, United States Army (then a colonel), spent most of his time at the old post, Fort Phantom Hill. The fort is now a dismal and solitary set of ruins, situated in northwest Texas, on the Clear Fork of the Brazos. Within a few hours' drive north from Abilene, a beautiful and prosperous town, may be seen a lonely hill, several spectre like chimneys, standing amid tumble-down rock walls, and a single stone building. All around these ruins are innumerable little heaps of earth, where the multitudinous prairie dog has burrowed his queer hole for a habitation. The scene around the place has been undisturbed so long that there now remains about the ruins no terror for this little animal, and in quiet communtion he shares impartially his house with the poisonous rattlesnake, the uncomely owl, and the timid little cottontail. From the slight eminence upon which the post was situated, may be seen a sea of rich grasses, their waves losing themselves in the azure of the distant horizon. Here and there the sameness of the landscape is relieved by a scraggy mesquite or a clump of catclaw bushes. Forming almost a semi circle about the ruins, the Clear Fork of the Brazos, an ideal clear water stream, wends its way northerly toward the main channel of the Brazos. Twenty-five or thirty solitary and sentinel like chimneys remain standing about the deserted square, formerly used as the parade grounds. The magazine is the only building that has withstood the attacks of time, the other stone structures having long ago tumbled into decay. The ruins cover about four acres of ground. The scene now has a desolate and deserted appearance. The coyotes echo their mournful midnight howls across the phantom hills, while the forlorn owl adds his melancholy hoot to the surrounding gloom. Fort Phantom Hill has a brief but interesting history. Its existence was so short that the historian seems to have forgotten it while chronicleing the many other interesting events in our early Texas history. Phantom Hill was established in 1856 by Robert E. Lee, then a young engineer and Lieutenant Colonel under Albert Sidney Johnston. When Lee joined his regiment at Fort Mason, he was immediately sent north with the First and Fifth squadron as far as the Clear Fork of the Brazos. This section was then in the heart of the Comanche reserve, where the indians were fiercest and most dangerous. Lee's acute engineering skill prompted him to select this hill as an ideal place upon which to establish his post. It is said that when the young commander approached the spot he was struck with its position as a favorable point of vantage in an Indian attack. The hill appeared to be much more elevated than the surrounding territory, and therefore afforded a better outlook. But when it was reached the youthful enginner was suprised to find the hill apparently no higher than the adjacent lands. He remarked that it must have been a phantom hill that he had seen. From this remark and circumstance the hill derived its name. It is a remarkable fact that Phantom Hill now, when viewed from certain points, presents the appearance of a high eminence, but the hill, when it is reached, seems to disappear almost entirely. Phantom Hill was abandoned in January, 1861, consequently its history lasted only four or five years; but during this brief time its life was filled with stirring and tempestuous experiences, not uncommon in frontier life on Texas borders. It is worthy of note that during this stormy period there were stationed at various times, many of the South's and North's most illustrious military leaders. In a private letter from Hon. Fitzhugh Lee, who was then a second lieutenant in the Second Cavalry, United States Army, I am given the following valuable information: "At that time the colonel of the regiment was Albert Sidney Johnston; the lieutenant colonel, Robert E. Lee; the two majors were William J. Hardee and George H. Thomas; and among the captains of the regiment were Earl Van Dorn, Innis Palmer, E. Kirby Smith, James Oakes, Stoneman, Richard Johnson, Whiting, Bracket, Bradfute; and among the first lieutenants were Charles W. Field and J. B. Hood." Many varied and interesting stories are told as to the destruction of the old fort, but all agree that it was burned immediately after the secession of the Southern States. Some of the old settlers affirm that the torch was applied by the soldiers who were encamped there at the beginning of the war. Others associate the name of Mrs. Lee with the circumstances of its destruction. It is said that when the soldiers were leaving the place to enter the civil war, having proceeded five or six miles, Mrs. Lee suggested that the fort should be destroyed, as it would, if left standing, afford a stronghold for the Indians. She therefore headed a small detachment and returned to the deserted barracks, which she set on fire, applying the torch with her own hands. Larry Chittenden, the poet ranchman, whose ranch home was not far from Phantom Hill, has reproduced in his inimitable style a pretty legend concerning the old post. He says that every year during the hush of some silent midnight the scenes around the crumbled walls become reanimated. The sound of revilles awake the spirits of the departed, and to the muffled drum's beat these spectres march in phantom array across the parade grounds. The old veterans who afterward wore the blue and the gray pass once more in review. The "pale bivouac figures" light up the view and throw their long, wierd shadows across the "weeping mesquite vale." The bugle notes call the cavalry forth and the phantom steeds charge across the court and out into the darkness. The night is spent in revelry and many a tale of war is told over the clinking goblet. But when the first pink flush of morning is painted on the eastern sky, the scene changes and again the old ruins rise before the vision.