Public Ledger, Memphis, Tennessee, October 20, 1866.
Reminiscence of the War

Death of R. Hall Flournoy at Fredericktown, Mo., Oct. 21, 1861

Memphis sent thousands of her sons to battle for the South, and nobly they did their duty. Their valor was unquestioned on numerous battle-fields and their decimated ranks gave proof of their devotion to the cause of their country. Their blood was shed freely – their lives offered up willingly – their graves are scattered over several States – many of them without any mark to tell the passer by that there lies the remains of a gallant spirit. But though their resting place is unmarked, and no monument raised to tell of their heroic and glorious deeds, their memory is still cherished by their relatives, friends and comrades, who have a niche in their hearts where a monument is erected that no tyrant can desecrate, no despot forbid. History will do justice to their deeds in a general point of view, but the heroism of many an untitled brave will never be known in this world, save in isolated cases where some comrade produces a tribute to their memory in the columns of a newspaper.

Among the many who fell into line at the first tap of the drum in this city was R. Hall Flournoy, as noble a youth, as gallant a spirit, and as brave a soldier, as ever shouldered a musket or died for his country. Previous to the war he was attached to the Harris Zouave Cadets, but when the old and glorious 154th regiment was organized, he joined it with the Bluff City Grays, commanded by Capt. James Edmondson. He was with the regiment until sometime in September, 1861, when it was stationed at Columbus, Ky. On the other side of the river was the command of General Jeff Thompson – a brigade of the Missouri State Guards – who were skirmishing with the enemy daily. Chafing at the inactivity of his regiment and wishing to distinguish himself, he obtained a transfer to Gen. Thompson’s command, and was assigned as drill-master, with the rank of Captain, to the second battalion [regiment] of infantry – a position which he was eminently qualified to fill. A short time after he went with an expedition to surprise a camp of the enemy near Bird’s Point, and greatly distinguished himself, leading the charge, and being the first man in the enemy’s camp. His bravery gained him the love and confidence of the officers and men of the battalion, and ever after he was a general favorite.

The command moved to New Madrid. Dispatches were received from Gen. Price announcing that the enemy were concentrating on him, and calling for a diversion in his favor. Gen. Thompson determined to make a raid toward St. Louis, and picked thirteen hundred men – infantry, cavalry and artillery – to accompany him. Captain Flournoy was one of them. The force moved with great celerity, first threatening Bird’s Point, then Cape Girardeau, while the cavalry pushed forward to within thirty-five miles of St. Louis, burning the important bridges on the Iron Mountain railroad, capturing a company of the 33d Illinois, and Home Guards by the hundred. The diversion in favor of Gen. Price was successful. St. Louis became alarmed, and about twenty-five thousand men were sent in various directions to look after Jeff Thompson, who concentrated at Fredericktown on the 19th of October. The next day a courier was captured with dispatches that led to a move southward. After proceeding ten miles, a council of war was held, and it was determined to return and give the enemy battle. On the morning of the 21st line of battle was formed near Fredericktown, the pickets attacked, and the engagement commenced.

Young Flournoy was almost wild with enthusiasm at the prospect of measuring swords with the enemy, and showed an ability and knowledge of the rules of war in giving instructions to the men that was astonishing in one so young. The enemy were [sic] before him – seven thousand well drilled and well armed men against the thirteen hundred badly drilled and ill equipped boys by his side – but he cared not for numbers, for he seemed to th8nk that if all felt as he did, victory would be certain. The second battalion [regiment] were supporting two pieces of artillery which were having a duel with the enemy’s cannon. Orders came for the infantry to lie down to avoid the fire. Flournoy and one or two officers were walking around observing the movement and wishing for the order to advance. Several grape shot fell near them, when Flournoy and a Capt. Nevils [Thomas Neville] advanced to where they fell. As Nevils stooped to pick up the grape, a six pound shot carried away one side of his face and passed through the breast of Flournoy. He neither spoke nor moved after falling, but lay there beautiful in death, with the pleasant smile on his lips that distinguished him in life. He looked so natural that one might have thought him sleeping, but for the blood on the ground and some crimson dyed letters that had been driven from his breast pocket through his body by the fatal shot that had sent two souls to eternity. Strong men weeped [sic] as they picked up his corpse and placed it in a wagon. After fighting for two hours and a half the Federals were victorious. The wagon containing Flournoy’s remains accompanied his comrades on the retreat for forty miles, when the body was placed in a coffin and sent to Bloomfield, where he was interred with military honors. Nine days after, his father arrived and removed the body to this city, and at Elmwood he now sleeps that long rest that will not be awakened until the resurrection.

Young, handsome, brave and intelligent, with a kind word for everyone, whether officer or private, he was beloved by all, and men who had not been acquainted with him for a month felt as if they had lost a brother when he died. Five years have rolled around since then, and more than one-half the Southern hearts that beat with hope by his side on the Missouri hills that October morning have been laid in their graves, but those that remain, so long as life shall last, will cherish the memory of the good, true and brave R. Hall Flournoy.

“He sleeps, all quietly and cold,
Beneath the soil that gave him birth;
Then break his battle-brand in twain,
And lay it with him in the earth.

We may not raise a marble shaft
Above the heart that now is dead;
But nature, like a mother’s hand,
Will ne’er forget her sacred trust.

Young April o’er his lowly mound
Shall shake the violets from her hair;
And glorious June, with fervid kiss,
Shall bid the roses blossom there.”

Note: Flournoy was only 17 in the Shelby Co., TN census for 1860. Thus it appears that he was merely 18 or so at the time of his death.