We firmly believe that the mule and dog tent, were two great levers in
aiding to put down the rebellion, for it would have been impossible to
have transported, in wagons, tentage enough for that great army. But Oh!
how mad we got when they were first issued to us. We swore "we wouldn't
have anything to do with 'em, they were pretty looking things to give a
man to sleep under," and our anger at the Government was great. But time
makes all things even, and we found that the genius that had invented
the "dog-tent," was worthy all praise. Their erection and taking down
was but the work of a few moments, and when each piece was tightly
rolled up it formed a very small parcel, and handy to carry. So away we
marched from Nashville, as finely an equipped army division as ever took
the field. We were indeed a small world within ourselves, and each man
carried with him his own board and lodging. We were on the march for
Murfreesboro, and camped for the night at Lavergne, a small place
fifteen miles south east of Nashville. Next morning we were again on the
move for Murfreesboro, which place we reached that day, and went into
camp. All around the place were visible signs of the terrible struggle
which had taken place. Here were the rebel breast works and
fortifications, erected by the negroes, under the eye of skillful
engineers who had been educated at the expense of that government
against which they were now directing their best efforts. Here were the
ruts which had been cut by army wagons and artillery, showing the
terrible condition in which the ground must have been. The skeletons of
horses and mules were all around us; here lay a broken and dismantled
gun carriage, yonder a wrecked ambulance, and look which way you would,
desolation and ruin met the eye. Here, also, were the winter quarters
which the rebel army had provided for themselves, thinking that we would
go into winter quarters at Nashville, and perhaps that they might
themselves be able to occupy that place. But they were doomed to
disappointment, and neither place gave them rest for the soles of their
feet. We only remained at Murfreesboro a few days when we were again
ordered to move.
Chattanooga was now the objective point of the General Commanding, and
thither we bent our steps as rapidly as possible. To reach that point
from the position we now occupied, required a march of from sixty-five
to seventy miles, over a country destitute of forage, poorly supplied
with water, and narrow and difficult wagon roads. Before again
commencing active operations however. General Rosecrans determined to
repair the Nashville and Chattanooga rail road, to bring forward the
needful subsistence and forage for the army, which it would be
impossible to transport on wagons. At Stevenson, Alabama, these supplies
having accumulated in sufficient quantities by the eighth of August,
corps commanders were that day directed to supply their troops as soon
as possible with rations and forage for a general movement. We began the
march across the Cumberland Mountains on the morning of the 16th of
August, 1863, and completed the movement by the evening of the 20th. We
made a good part of the march after night, over the roughest roads
imaginable; now winding along the side of the Tennessee River, which we
could see far down below us, with the stars reflected in its bosom; now
down a jump off of at least two feet, tumbling and stumbling over rocks
and boulders, we wended our weary way. It was a hard march, and we were
thankful when it was over. But the object of our General was
accomplished, and the rebels were flanked out of Chattanooga, which had
been very properly called the Gibraltar of the West. It was indeed a
strongly fortified place naturally. It lays on the south bank of the
Tennessee River, and was almost impregnable from the front. But the
flank movement of Rosecrans was too much for the rebels, and on the
eighth of September, they evacuated the place, and our army took
peaceable possession. We were now under command of Major General Gordon
Granger. Marching through Chattanooga, which did not look as if it had
ever been much of a town, we moved out to a little place called
Rossville and went into camp. Here it was that an incident occurred
which for a time threatened to create a great disturbance. General
Granger had issued strict orders, forbidding foraging by the men, but in
spite of all orders to the contrary they would slip out into the
adjacent country and procure what they could in the shape of eatables.
On this afternoon to which we have reference, General Granger was
sitting in the yard in front of his headquarters, when from up the road
which passed in front of him, came a couple of boys loaded down with
fresh meat.
"Halt there," said Granger. "What have you got there?"
"Meat," said the boys.
"March in here," came the command, and into the yard with their meat
they went.
"Did you not know that my orders forbade foraging? Throw your meat down
there, and take one of those rails, each one of you, and march around
that tree," pointing to a tree that stood near by. They silently obeyed.
Granger resumed his position, from which he had arisen, cursing and
swearing. He had not been seated long, however, before another squad
came marching by laden down with eatables.
"Halt!" again rang out. "March in here you men, and throw your stuff on
that meat; pick up a rail apiece, and march around that tree."
As before the order was obeyed. Granger was furious, and striding off to
his adjutant's tent, ordered him to send out some mounted men, and bring
to his headquarters, all men found foraging. The order was given, and
soon the horsemen were seen riding on their errand. They returned after
a while with quite a squad of unfortunates who were loaded down with all
conceivable manner of food. Marching them into the presence of Granger,
they were ordered to do as the others had done, and such another pile of
eatables that yard had never before seen. Chickens, ducks, geese,
turkeys, flour, hams, honey, grapes, potatoes, the carcases of calves,
sheep and hogs, everything almost that could be thought of. On to the
pile they were thrown, and each fellow, shouldering a rail, commenced
his march around a tree. Granger was wild with rage; he stamped and
swore "His orders had been willfully disobeyed, and, by G—d, he was
going to make an example of these fellows." Calling for the sergeant of
his headquarters guard, which, on that evening, happened to be from our
regiment, and which, if we are not mistaken, was under command of
sergeant Poage, of Co. "E.," he ordered him to go to the teamsters and
get a "black-snake." But all this had not happened without the knowledge
of the rest of the command, and soon quite a crowd had collected around
to see the boys as they marched up under arrest, but as soon as they
heard the order for the sergeant to go for the "black-snake," they
hurried off to their quarters. Granger never knew how near he was
death's door that evening, for the boys were about to mutiny, and the
first lash that had been given, would have been the signal for the
trouble to begin. The whole affair had been arranged almost in the
twinkling of an eye, and as soon as the first blow had been struck, the
signal would have been sounded, which would have swept Granger and his
headquarters from the face of the earth. But the cooler reasoning of
General Stedman and Colonel McCook at last prevailed with the maddened
general, and in place of the whipping, the boys, with backs bared, were
tied by the thumbs to wagon wheels, a prey to the voracious mosquito.
What was ever done with that huge pile of provisions in the yard, we do
not know, but are inclined to the opinion that the doughty Granger
feasted on a goodly share of them. From that day on our dislike for
Granger was intense; he had proved himself a tyrant, and a man of
ungovernable passion, and we fairly hated him.
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